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I have no idea what they’ll make of me or what they’re going to do.
Except Elias sounds concerned right now, genuinely, and that’s even more confusing.
Panic flutters in my chest, and it tastes like copper on my tongue. I need to find out exactly what I’m dealing with here.
“Y-yeah. I’m okay. Just a little startled,” I begin. My voice comes out far too shaky, fear obvious.
Dammit.
Then I notice Elias staring specifically at the side of my face, where I thought I got hit.
I’m starting to readjust to the fact that this is apparently my bizarre reality now, and as the shock eases, I can focus more on the sensation. It hurts. It hurts a lot more than it should for having fallen into the door, which was what I’d assumed had happened. But it doesn’t just feel bruised. It feelswarm?
I lift my hand to my cheek. Warm and seemingly wet as well. When I pull it away, there’s blood on my fingers. A lot of blood. “Oh.”
I didn’t crash face-first into Caelan. I crashed face-first into his knife.
Being sprawled on the floor with both looming over me is getting more than a little intimidating. With determination and panic, I push myself up and scramble to my feet. It’s possibly not the best idea I’ve ever had. My head spins, and now the wound on my cheek ispulsing.
“Whoa, hey,” Caelan protests, darting to grab my shoulder when I tilt forward.
“I’m okay,” I insist. Instinct screams to not show weakness. Besides, it’s not a lie. It’s not like I’ve lost that much blood. The combination of shock and standing too fast is what has me feeling dizzy for a moment.Probably.
“You should sit down,” Elias suggests, placing his hand on the small of my back. Stools line one wall of the lobby, and Elias guides me to one, where I take his advice and sit.
My hands grip either side of the stool to steady myself. It’s not so much the cut that’s bothering me. While it is sore, and the amount of blood pumping out is alarming, it’s a head wound. They always bleed a lot. It’s probably not even that bad. In a weird, masochistic sort of way, I don’t exactly mind. It’s not like I didn’tenjoythe aesthetic of that video with Caelan and the dagger or thought about what it would be like to be in the victim’s place.
No. The cut doesn’t bother me. It’sthem, the way they are acting compared to some of the things I’ve seen.
It was all supposed to be a stupid fantasy. I believed they were just acting for a few cool videos. Now, seeing them in person, it’s hard to reconcile when they are so clearly inhuman—every inch the deadly, otherworldly beings they portray.
I have never judged them as people based on their music before. But if it’s not for show, if they’re actually thesethings, then how much is even made up? I have no idea what to expect from them.
And yet, they’re being nice. Shockingly nice, considering the whole demon thing.
Elias reaches out and cups my face in his hand—he’s touching me. He’s actually touching me, and I desperately will myself not to blush. Then he turns my head so he can inspect the cut and frowns.
“Caelan, see if you can find a first-aid kit and something to wipe up this blood, would you?”
“What am I, your goddamn errand boy?” Caelan complains but doesn’t show any hesitation in searching for the required items. Probably because it’s extremely obvious they’re needed.
That leaves me alone with Elias for a moment, and what thehellam I meant to say? My chest is tight. I have so many questions, but my head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. I don’t even know where to start.
“Why are you doing this?” I finally ask. “I mean, looking after me.”
Elias cocks his head as he stares at me. “Why wouldn’t we? It’s Caelan’s fault you were harmed.”
“Oh. I mean, not really. I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, and he didn’t know I was there, so…” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend Caelan or take all the blame on myself. I cut myself short. “I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be so nice.”
Not after realizing that it’s no gimmick—they are actual supernatural creatures.
The smile on Elias’ face has a cold, ironic twist to it. “Make no mistake, dear. We’re notgoodpeople by any means. But what you see in the videos we make is… exaggerated and reference to times long past. If that’s your concern.”
I nod. That makes sense.
“I presume by the fact you clearly recognized us that you are a fan.” His hand brushes against mine, just the lightest of touches, but it’s enough to make my breath catch. “It’s your attention and your adoration that is most important to us. Why would we drive you away by hurting you?”
Oh, God. He’s extremely close.I’ve seen this too, how he acts so charming to get what he wants. Playing the part of the smooth, suave man of seduction. At least until the act breaks down to reveal the truth beneath—a simmering, vengeful animosity against the world.
