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My sister comes back around the pristine, white granite counter and drops her clipboard in front of me. “Okay, let’s talk about last night.”
I groan, her voice splitting the hair on the back of my neck. “I sincerely don’t want to.”
She frowns, maneuvering herself onto the stool next to me; it’s no easy feat, considering the ever-increasing size of her belly, but she makes it work. Propping her elbows up, she swivels and faces me. “How much did you drink?”
“At the party? Almost nothing.” Her blue eyes narrow, studying, and I let out a huff of air, pressing my forehead onto the cool countertop. “At home, I don’t even remember. Too much, probably.”
It’s a lie, but she doesn’t notice.
She nods, unsurprised.Of course, she’s always worried about me backsliding.“I thought we were done with this, Jules. You said when you wanted to avoid any more videos getting leaked online that you’d be more careful.”
“I am being more careful. I drankat home. Under the watchful gaze of you and my crazy, over-protective brother-in-law.”
“We weren’t watching you, and he’s not crazy.”
“Caroline.” I slide my hands over hers, giving her a pointed look. “He’s alittlecrazy. But it’s fine; I always knew whoever you ended up with would be.”
She rolls her eyes, pushing me away with a soft laugh. “We’re just worried about you, you know. It feels like you closed up after… well, everything with Mom and Dad, and we’re just trying to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” I bite the inside of my cheek, steeling myself against the pang in my chest. “Peachy, even.”
“That’s what everyone always says.” She glances over her shoulder, checking on her daughter, and then leans in closer to me. “So, you and Kieran?”
My face pinches like I’ve just sucked on a lemon. “We had aconversation.Seriously, that’s all.”
“He was touching your face. Guys don’t do that to girls they aren’t interested in.”
The memory of his breath, peppermint and hard liquor mixed together, coasting over my skin sends a wave of hunger through me, twisting my stomach until it feels like a tornado within. How he peered into my eyes as if trying to figure me out, find what makes me tick; how badly I wanted him to.
If I’m destined to carry this heavy soul, burdened with the weight of my convictions, I can at least have a little fun first. And when he slipped a dated business card into my palm last night before we parted, I knew instantly that’s what I wanted to do.
Necklace or not.
But Caroline doesn’t need to know that. Doesn’t need to know how I plan on letting this evil, rotten creature devour me, stake me through the heart and leave me a bloody, bruised,satisfiedheap of quivering flesh.
That’ll be our little secret.
I clear my throat, redirecting my thoughts and the conversation. “So… is Eliareallymad?”
She heaves a sigh, and I swear I feel it settle, heavy between us. “He’s not mad. Just confused, I guess. I mean, neither of us thought youknewKieran Ivers, and the next thing we know, you’re ditching me to go speak to him.”
“I don’t know him,” I mutter, thinking about the mystery hidden in those electrifying eyes, the demon he keeps as a soul.
“Right.” She gives me some serious side-eye, but doesn’t press further. “In any case, just make sure you’re safe around him. He’s… not like the Montaltos. Or even Kal. Kieran’s a different breed entirely.”
Nodding, I don’t mention how I already know this, don’t say I can see it in the ghost clinging to his back. In his haunted gaze, the sunken shape of his cheeks when he isn’t paying enough attention to puff them up. How I can practically taste the danger when he’s close.
A different breed, indeed. Something terribly dark and sinister.
The beautiful face of evil.
* * *
Later that week, I meet up with Avery, Selma, and Carter at The Bar in Stonemore, a town slightly more urbanized than ours. It’s just far enough away that I can drink to my heart’s content and not feel guilty for being unable to control my every urge.
I’ve curbed theproblem—excessive drinking—and I’m of age now, so where’s the real danger?
Sitting here in a dimly lit corner of the venue, pacing myself and listening to my friends bicker, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. But that’s the thing about going out in public after holing up by yourself for months—paranoia strikes, lacing your every thought, until you can’t even enjoy a group outing.
