When she’s gone, I let the mask slip a little. The hunger is real, rolling in my gut, gnawing at my rationality. I want her scared, but I want her hungry more. I want the moment she lets go, gives up the need to pretend, and lets me have her, all of her.
Midnight can’t come soon enough.
Ten
Rose
It’s midnight.
All the grown-ups (and the fake grown-ups, because being real, I don’t feel like one and I’m probably still going to be trying to figure my life out at eighty years old if I make it there) are asleep, except for the monsters in the woods. Which is probably Ash.
The quad is empty, and it’s a freezing walk across it, so I pull my coat tight around me, listening to my steps in the silence, shoes crunching on frozen grass. Every few feet I look over my shoulder, convinced I’m being watched.
The edge of the trees looms up fast, their branches climbing up to the sky. It’s dark tonight, and I can’t see the moon, just heavy clouds promising snow. The night has a strange, muffled hush that happens before a snowfall.
Ash is supposed to be waiting. He’s not.
That ticks me off. This is his idea, and he can’t even show up on time? I hesitate at the tree line for a minute, staying still to try and spot any hint of movement.
Nothing.
Great. Guess I’m just a dumbass standing alone in the dark, freezing my tits off.
Against my better judgement, I take a step into the woods. The path is barely visible, just the suggestion of an opening between the trees, and with every step forward the forest swallows me deeper. It’s even darker in here, and I can barely see a thing.
I don’t want to admit it, but I’m scared. The woods are so black I can’t see my own hand in front of my face, and the silence is absolute. Just a dead, heavy nothing.
I keep walking slowly and carefully, picking my way over roots and rocks.
After another ten steps something moves behind me.
There’s no sound, but I can sense the air shifting, or maybe it’s the way the hair lifts on the back of my neck. My whole body goes rigid, and then I spin around, heart hammering. Nothing. Just trees, rocks, and my imagination working overtime.
I take one step forward. Then, snap. Something grabs me from behind.
I don’t even have time to scream. An arm catches me around the waist, hard enough to lift me off my feet, and my back collides with a solid wall of muscle. For a second, everything in me panics—fight, flight, full-on freak-out—but before I can do either, his hand closes over my mouth.
“Quiet,” Ash says in a low voice, right at my ear.
He’s pleased with himself in a way only a complete bastard like him can manage. I hear it in his voice, feel it in the mark. I twist, furious, and he just holds me tighter, like I’m a kitten trying to claw my way out of a cardboard box.
Asshole.
He waits a beat, then drops his hand. I whirl, fists balled, ready to bash his perfect face in, but Ash is already a step back, smirking.
My voice comes out shaky with adrenaline. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He shrugs those broad shoulders. “You were too easy to catch. Didn’t even try to run. I’m disappointed.”
I really want to hit him.
“That’s because you’re a psycho who gets off on scaring innocent women,” I snap. “Congratulations. You got me. Can we do the part where you tell me why I’m out here freezing my ass off in the murder woods at midnight?”
Ash’s eyes flash in the dark. For a heartbeat, he just studies me, like he’s sizing up prey. “You are far from innocent, Rose. Woman, yes. Innocent? No, I don’t think so.”
I refuse to back down, even though the smart part of me wants to run. “Says the murderer.”
He takes a step closer, invading my space, letting the silence grow, watching me squirm.
