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“Nope,” he grunted.
We stood off to the side, keeping an eye on Grace as she looked at the drinks on the table. They were either pre-made and waiting for someone to drink them or abandoned and forgotten.
A goofy-looking guy wearing a green shirt and brown pants stepped in front of us. A massive grin appeared among his patchy facial hair.
What in the Scooby-Doo . . .
“Sick costumes, dudes,” he said with a laugh.
I stared at him with a blank expression. Daiman did the same and crossed his arms over his chest.
The Wish-version of Shaggy looked between us, still enthusiastic as he waited for one of us to say something. “So you guys, uh, dressing up as that kid fromAmerican Horror Story?”
“Never seen it,” Daiman said while rolling the toothpick between his teeth.
“What?” the college kid exclaimed while making a gesture with his hands that his mind was blown. “Dudes.” His overexaggerated laugh sounded like it belonged in a cartoon. “You guys gotta see it. In fact . . .” He pulled out his phone and thumbed at the screen.
Having had enough of his shit, Daiman knocked the cell phone out of the kid’s hands. The stoner looked at Daiman in shock, then bent to pick it up.
“Fine,” he huffed. “I didn’t want to watch it with you guys, anyway.”
The college kid wandered off, and I returned my attention to where Grace was. Keyword, was.
“Where the fuck did she go?” I hissed.
“We’ll split up,” Daiman said.
We parted ways, and I walked into the room attached to the kitchen. I searched the sea of dancing, kissing, beer-pong-playing humans.
Where did you go, little sinner?
22
GRACE
Imoved through the crowded house as if on autopilot, seeing things through someone else’s eyes. Off to the side, a couple tongue-fucked each other’s throats. If I focused on them hard enough, I could taste the lust protruding from them like a yummy treat.
Yummy treat? What the heck, Grace?
Since when did two people getting it on tasteyummy? Normal people couldn’t sense something like that.
Once again, it’s because I’m not normal. What regular person can revive themselves?
Exactly.
I couldn’t control my body. The hunger had returned four days after the incident with Sebastian. He was still in the hospital—thankfully out of the ICU—but he didn’t want to see me.
Something awful was happening to me. I didn’t know what was going on or how to fix it.
I should be dead.
Yet there I was, breathing and sofuckinghungry.
“Hey, little devil,” someone whispered into my ear.
I turned my head, looking at the shirtless man who’d hit on me. A tie hung around his neck, and rips decorated his bleached jeans. He must have been in college because he didn’t hold any of the softness in his face like the guys at my school had.
My lips crept into a smile. I screamed inside my head, commanding my body to turn and leave, but the controlling entity ignored my demands as it wrapped my fingers around the man’s red tie. He smirked as he stepped closer, leaving little space between our bodies.
