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My body locked up, but Miz’s hand was still wrapped around mine, and even if I wanted to break his face, I’d choose him over Alastor a thousand times. I might not feel safe with Misery, but I didn’t feel unsafe, and that was a powerful distinction.
“I’d call you a dirty stop-out,” Honey teased, jogging across the park to us, eyeing up Miz’s blue-eyed asshole disguise, “but I’m guilty of the same crime. Alastor, you remember Cat from the party, right? Or were you too trollied to remember anything?”
Trollied? I almost laughed.
“The latter,” he replied, his golden face friendly and harmless. My heart stuttered in my chest. “But I’ve seen Cat around campus. I don’t know you, though,” he added, glancing at Misery with that same bright, open expression on his face. It was a fucking lie.
“I don’t do parties,” Miz said coldly, tugging me closer, and I didn’t know if it was male possessiveness or if he was reading my body language, but I was glad for the back up.
Cat shot me a wide-eyed look at the don’t fuck with me attitude Miz gave off, but I didn’t mirror it. Even if I didn’t have the nerve to show my real feelings about Alastor, I was glad someone did. He was evil at his core. I needed to get Honey away from him, but I knew what she got like when she had a crush—she was all in, and completely blind to red flags. If I tried to get her to see the real him, she’d cling to him harder.
“I don’t blame you,” Alastor replied to Miz, completely ignoring his tone of warning. “That night was a shitshow. You didn’t miss much.”
“Where are you going now?” Honey asked, a smile tugging at her lips again like she couldn’t resist it. I hated seeing her so happy when I knew I’d have to pop the bubble eventually. I hated knowing her crush was a monster and not knowing how to convince her of that.
“Lawrence Hall,” I replied, and tried to keep all my true emotion out of my voice.
Something came flying at us and I flinched hard, seeing only a fast-moving shape. Nightmare, my instincts screamed, and I twisted away, my breathing wrecked. Miz squeezed my hand so tightly it hurt and put his lips to my ears.
“I would take every threat to you apart piece by piece, bone by bone, but you’re safe, Cat. It’s a frisbee.”
I exhaled a hard breath, unable to say why the violent comfort worked so well, and I noticed both Honey and Alastor watching me with matching worried expressions. Like he’d studied hers and mirrored it. I wondered if he stole pieces from everyone, flawlessly mimicking human emotion.
“I’m fine,” I told Honey, a chill rushing down my spine at the way her crush—boyfriend?—watched me. It was so believable, I’d never guess he was so dangerous. “Just shaken because of… you know…”
The Halloween party. Nightmare cursing us.
“Come on,” she said kindly, her expression so soft it killed me. “We’re heading that way so we’ll walk with you.” She gave Miz a stern look. “You better protect my girl.”
“With my life,” he swore, and sounded so believable I thought he must be mimicking the emotion like Alastor did.
“And if I find out you hurt her,” Honey said, going into scary sunshine mode as we crossed the park, “I will end you, and I’ll make sure the pain lasts a long time.”
“Good,” Misery said softly, quietly. “I’d deserve nothing less.”
I squeezed his hand, not quite believing this was fake anymore. That was real, and I didn’t like the sound of it—small and loathing and fragile.
Honey nodded though, satisfied. “Alastor, tell Cat about the gala.” She shot me an excited stare that softened to pleasure when Alastor held open the door to Lawrence Hall for all of us. A perfect gentleman.
“You have to come,” Alastor said, smiling at both me and Miz, his mask impeccable. “I need all the numbers I can get. I’m organising a charity gala for the week before Christmas.”
“It’s for this group of injured kittens someone dumped in the village,” Honey said, her lip pushing out in a sad pout. “It’s awful, Cat. The poor things, left out in a cardboard box in the cold.”
“I’m taking it as a chance to raise awareness about animal cruelty,” Alastor went on as we headed upstairs, a riot of noise coming from the dining hall. Right, it must be lunch time by now. I was glad it was Saturday; I couldn’t bear classes right now. “There are so many animals abused, so many pets discarded, but we have the money and privilege to do something about it.”
One look at Honey and I knew she was a goner. The sun might as well have shone out of Alastor Carmichael’s ass, and I really did not know how to tell her this was all a clever alibi while underneath he was poison and malice. I held onto Miz’s hand for dear life.
“We might be busy that day,” Misery said when I forgot to reply. “Cat will have to check her calendar.” He said it with a tight smile that told him my calendar would be fully booked. But Honey shot me a pleading look and I knew I’d cave, that I’d end up going to the gala organised by a man who threatened me.
“I can’t remember the date,” Alastor said when we reached the second floor, glancing at Honey. “You wrote it down, didn’t you, dear? Can you go check in your diary?”
Honey leaned up to kiss his cheek and darted to her room. When she was gone, Alastor kept up his good natured routine, but he said, “The gala’s for injured cats actually,” and looked right at me.
My stomach squirmed. That was a threat. I knew it was. He was threatening to hurt me, right here in the corridor in front of Miz. I cringed away, and expected Miz to jump in and threaten him back, maybe even eviscerate him, break his bones apart like he’d promised, but he was frowning down the hallway, distracted.
“Your door’s open,” he pointed out, his voice strange. He shook his head hard, like he was trying to dislodge something.
He was right. Shit. My door was open. And when I rushed down the hallway, releasing my death grip on Miz’s hand, I saw the gouge the lock had left in the frame. It had been forced open.
