AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The dark-haired psycho just laughed and—kissed me.
A high sound of panic and surprise and hysteria escaped as his mouth crushed mine, a rough hand finding my hip, pressing cruelly. I shoved at him, my breathing faster, that dark voice far louder, but he was undeterred, his lips moving over mine, tongue flicking out to trace my bottom lip. I wished I knew how to summon a death god, because I’d call Death right now to rip the soul out of this bastard.
I drove my knee up into his balls, braced to shove him aside and run, but he just moaned and leaned into me like I’d stroked him.
“I like it when you play rough,” he told me, icy eyes hooded. “And the way you taste…” He licked my bottom lip again. Darkness surged and the next thing I knew, the tang of copper filled my mouth, and he staggered back, his hand to his chin.
Blood dripped.
When he grinned, tongue flicking out, I realised I’d bitten him. Good. He deserved it. But my heart beat panic-fast. I hadn’t meant to bite him. The blackness took me. It only stole seconds this time, but it was bad enough that chills covered my arms.
I darted out of the alcove, but he caught my shoulders and crowded me back into the stone nook, his eyes bright, glowing with something that made me shake harder, something that made the dark voice roar.
“You drew my blood,” he said, rough, quiet.
“Let me go, or I’ll do worse,” I threatened, shaking uncontrollably.
For a moment he just stared at me, then his lips surged against mine, tongue forcing its way inside. “You drew my blood, so take what you claimed.”
When his knee pressed between my legs, adding sudden and visceral pressure to my clit, I jolted at the shot of pleasure to my fear. My clit was already swollen. Oh god, I was wet. Shame heated my face.
“You drew it, so it’s yours,” he panted and tore himself away from me. “Vile, intoxicating creature. Stay away from me, Prick.”
“You stalked me,” I snapped, rage and arousal mingled with fear. “You picked the wrong girl to fuck with, psychopath. I have very dangerous friends.”
“So do I, Prick,” he replied, licking blood off his bottom lip as he backed up a step, then another. This time I realised it wasn’t an insult, but a name. Prick. A cactus reference, no doubt.
He took another step back, his body vibrating with tension, and I bolted through the space he put between us, my hand clammy where I gripped my phone. I didn’t look back as I fled.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CAT
Ididn’t meet Honey in the library, didn’t do anything except run all the way to my room in Lawrence Hall, lock the door, and prop a chair against it so it couldn’t be rammed open. First Alastor and now this black-haired, blue-eyed psycho. Two students who lived in the same building as me, who both wanted to hurt me. And then there was Nightmare’s cult and whoever the disciple who summoned her was.
I shook so hard my bones rattled. The blue-eyed guy had to be one of them. Nightmare’s followers. Miz was right; she would drive me into a breakdown. I was already halfway there.
“Fuck,” I exhaled in a shuddery breath, my hands shaking as I dragged them over my face.
All I wanted to do was crawl into bed, but I still had that asshole’s blood on my face and I had chapters to read before tomorrow.
“You can do this,” I psyched myself up. “Shower, bribe By and Honey into bringing dinner up, speed-read two chapters, then sleep for ten hours. Easy.”
It didn’t sound easy. It sounded impossible. But I threw clean clothes, underwear, and my toiletries into a Ford School of Medicine bag, the dark green of the serpent emblem watching me with red eyes. Reluctantly, I pulled the chair away from the door.
Ten minutes and I’d be back. Fifteen tops. I could do this.
I opened the door and locked it behind me before I could doubt myself, rushing down the hall to the shower room. My hands shook as I fumbled open one of the stalls and hung the bag on the back of the locked door where it wouldn’t get wet.
You can do this, I told myself over and over, spinning my crown ring for courage as I undressed and turned the taps of the bronze overhead shower, probably the newest thing in the whole building. The water was ice cold when it sprayed out, but I was already shivering so I barely noticed.
I stepped fully under the spray and kept going until my forehead rested against the cool white tile, tears burning the backs of my eyes. I couldn’t do this. My encouraging motto was bullshit; I really couldn’t do this. I didn’t mean the shower—I meant Ford, Nightmare, threatening assholes in my classes, and curses turning people into clowns and priests and fuck knows what else. I’d been on edge all day, and my mind was all too happy to replay the reasons I got that way—Alastor cornering me against the mausoleum, the silent phone call, Honey chattering at the bird, Byron glancing at us like he knew something was different, the chanting during the lecture, and then whatever the fuck that was in the alcove.
I only realised tears streaked my face when my breath hitched, stuck, and broke apart. A sob crashed from my chest, loud enough to be heard over the drumming of water on white tile. I wanted to spool the cries back into my chest, keep them there where no one might overhear them, but I couldn’t stop them now. They had their own force, like a storm that wouldn’t be slowed, let alone stopped.
I screwed my eyes shut, my face against the wall, and gave up trying to fight the sobs. They came in ruthless waves, crushing my chest until it hurt, tears streaking my face until my skin was puffy and tight. The water slamming into my shoulders was too hot now but it didn’t matter. None of this mattered.
I wanted to go home, to drop out of Ford, but I was cursed. I didn’t think going back to Harrogate would really be escaping from Nightmare. I’d only drag her to my family, get them cursed too, and I couldn’t bear that. Thoughts of what she’d do to Mum and Dad burned vividly in my mind and I flinched. What if she didn’t curse them; what if she killed them, like she killed Lindgren?
