“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.
“What would you be willing to do to get one?”
I yank my hand free and groan in disgust. “Go. Now. Before I murder you and let the rats eat your carcass.”
“Sexy,” he says with a chuckle.
I take in a breath, preparing myself before following after him. I stay close behind so I can see each step as we squeeze down the passage that looks like it was hand-dug and re-enforced haphazardly with piles of stones. I try not to think about whether it’s stable, or what it would feel like being trapped in here if it caved in around us. Dizziness makes my steps falter as a light coat of sweat breaks out along my skin. By the time we reach a set of steep stone steps, I have to use the wall’s support to stay upright.
The stairway is so narrow Brendan slides through sideways. The tight space makes my pulse thrum. My lungs feel like I’m breathing through cotton. I press against the stone, but I swear it’s closing in around me … a trickle of sweat rolls down my cheek.
I catch the scream in my throat when a hand comes down on my shoulder. I swipe it away as if it were a spider.
“Touch me again and you bleed,” I seethe.
He slides open a door and we enter the Quiet Room on the main floor with its worn leather couches and wingback chairs.
My entire body is shaking when I step through. I collapse against the cool stones of the fireplace, fighting to catch my breath, bent over with my hands on my knees.
Brendan slides the bookcase back into place.
“You gonna be okay?” he asks, his hand hovering above my back, but he doesn’t make a move to touch me.
“Yeah,” I breathe out with a shudder.
Once I’ve pulled myself together, I stand and cross the room toward the shadowy foyer. Brendan follows. I don’t expect to find him still behind me when I reach the stairs. I turn to face him from atop the first step.
“Where are you going?” I demand, not even trying to be nice about it.
“Making sure you get to your room okay.”
“Thanks for sneaking me in, but I can manage from here,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Are you sure? I’d hate for you to get lost on your way to your room.”
“I’ve got it.” There is no way in hell he’s getting near me or my room … ever. Even if he does smell good.
Brendan steps up next to me.
I can finally see his face. And I think I may hate him.
His hair is naturally platinum blond, not silver. I wasn’t wrong about the angles of his face, but he doesn’t have the deathly pallor of a vampire. His bronze skin makes him look like he’s spent the summer on a yacht. To make things worse, he has big, brown eyes lined with thick lashes and beautiful full lips a guy should never be allowed to possess.
I hate him.
“I’m in room 14, on the fourth floor.”
When I just stare at him like he’s delusional, he adds, “So you can find me when you want me.”
“Which will be never.”
“You don’t lie, Lana. Don’t start now.” He winks.
I glare at him.
He leans down until he’s within a breath of kissing me, and defiantly I grit my teeth and don’t move away. “You’re going to need something from me eventually.”
“Go away.”
There’s something intrinsically captivating about him. Hypnotic. Like the call of a siren luring a ship into the rocks. Treacherous, yet seductive. I back away, the hairs on my arms standing on end in warning.
“Sweet dreams, Lana.”
I watch him exit the door leading into the Court. After a few seconds, I rush over to it and pull to be certain it’s really closed.
A thumping sound breaks the silence. I freeze halfway across the foyer and listen. A scraping noise comes from … somewhere. And because I haven’t learned a single thing from any of the horror movies I’ve watched, I follow it.
Another thump can be heard down the hall. Slowly, I continue toward it, hugging the wall. Not sure how this will help protect me, but it’s what feels right, so whatever.
I stop in front of a door that’s cracked open. I hear a muffled grunt and swearing. Poking my head in, I blink in surprise when I find Ashton staring at me from the other side of the window, trying to force it open. I rush over to unlock the window and slide it open.
“Omigod, I cannot believe you were here. Thank you so much,” she gushes as she ducks in and closes it behind her.
“How were you able to reach the window?” I ask, recognizing how far the window is from the ground.
“Step ladder,” she explains. “I keep it hidden under the bushes. But I swear I left the window open.”
“The security team saw it,” I tell her. She opens her mouth to ask how I know this, but I stop her. “Don’t ask. It’s a long story.”
She quirks a brow, intrigued. “Well, thank you for rescuing me.” She smells of beer and … something earthy. I can’t quite place it.
I must be wearing a similar curious expression, because she silences me with the same response. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I really want to go to bed.”
“Me, too.”
I’m exhausted by the time we climb the five flights of stairs to my room, silently cursing every single step, parting with Ashton at the top. This has been the longest day, but not the longest. Nothing will ever compare to that night.
I enter my room and find “Lana” shining on my wall. I must have forgotten to shut it off. I keep it lit while I change and wash my face. When I click the switch off, the wall beneath it is … glowing.
“What the …” My heart thumps hard in my chest. I turn on the lights and look around my room, searching for any other sign that someone was, or may still be, in the room. There’s nothing except for the words written on my wall that scream at me in the dark.
The beast watched Thaylina from within his dark cavern as she came and went from the tower, waiting for the day that he would ensnare her. And harness her power for himself. Preying on the deepest desires would leave no one invulnerable to his charm.
I was up until after two in the morning scrubbing the glowing message off my wall with a round-bristle hairbrush and body wash, so I am not happy when my phone starts beeping at eight, demanding a fingerprint. The screen glows with a follow-up message, letting me know I’m scheduled to work from ten ‘til four o’clock today. Except, it leaves out where.
“Shoot me,” I groan, pulling the covers over my head.
Twenty minutes later, I’m awoken again by a knock on my door. “Go away!” Whoever it is, and I’m assuming it’s either or both of the girls, knocks again. Bleary-eyed and disoriented, I shuffle across the room to answer it. “I need—”
It’s Brendan. Before I can shut the door in his face, his foot jams between the door and the frame. I hope I broke his toe. “Good morning, my fiery little nymph. How’d you sleep?”
“Get out!” I shove at the door, but he opens it without much effort and steps in. He begins looking around in much the same way Ashton did when she entered. Despite the hype about being big on privacy, there are evidently no personal boundaries at this school. “What do you want?” I demand, crossing my arms over my braless chest, not that it helps much considering I’m standing in the middle of the room in just a tank top and underwear.