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Anolder gentleman walking toward the courtyard at a snail's pace gazed back at me in disbelief.Ifought an eye roll.Didhe expect me to die on an empty stomach?Ibarely had two bites of my dinner.Evidently, eating without the detested company of others could only be achieved through the help of a fire.
Thebrittle man was small enough to disappear behind a grain of rice.Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t pry open the heavy door separating the courtyard from the main room, nor was he agile enough to walk to another exit.Ithad already taken him several minutes to cross the grand ballroom.Realizingeveryone else had fled the scene, he looked back at me with hope.Hisincredulous stare burned a hole into my skull whenIseparated the bread, picked off the peppers, and popped it into my mouth.Idid the same with two more finger sandwiches.
Istood onceIfinished chewing, mostly because he wouldn’t stop gaping with doe eyes. “Alright, alright.I’llrescue you.”
Unbelievingeyes followed me whenIgrabbed a chair to stand on instead of advancing toward him and fiddling with the alarm.Simultaneously,ItextedMomthatIwas fine and there was no fire.Oneof the smoke detectors must be malfunctioning.Itwas better to find and defuse it instead of having the old man walk outside.Hedidn’t seem equipped for the cold or the exercise.
Thestate-of-the-art extinguishers would have doused us with sprinklers if there were a fire.Thesensitive technology reacted to any traces of smoke.Zanewas aware of this feature but used the fire alarm as an excuse to get rid of guests.Itwas one of those rare instances in which we put aside our differences for a greater cause.
Whenthe alarm didn’t shut off,Ireset the remaining ones in the vicinity.TheCinderellaslipper fit the smoke detector nearest the courtyard exit, and the earsplitting sounds and flashing lights ended.
Theold man mumbled a thanks, though he didn’t bother returning to his previous seat.Hedropped his butt on the nearest couch, turned sideways, and propped his feet up.
Ishrugged. “Goodcall.”
Examiningthe alarm,Ichecked for malfunctions.Nothing.Thenearest door opened to the courtyard.Therewas no one around.Theonly incriminating evidence appeared to be something that didn’t fit the picture-perfect yard.Asmall portion of the ground next to the exit was covered in a gray film of dust.Ata closer look, it appeared to be ashes from cigarette butts.Theash felt warm between my fingers.Someasshole lit a cigarette under one of the smoke alarms, then took off.
“Falsealarm, everyone.Let’sgo back inside,” someone shouted, andIcould’ve swornIheardZanegrit his teeth from a distance.
AlthoughI’dheard engines revving, not all the guests evacuated the premises.Brushingthe ashes off my hands,Itook off.Iwould’ve investigated further, but my interest in a false fire alarm paled in comparison to avoiding murder conspiracy theories and setups.
Joggingup the stairs to my room,Ilocked the door behind me.Istripped off my dress, undid my hair, and changed into black sweats and a tank top.Ieyed my balcony before stepping out and turning on the lights.Itwas otherwise indistinguishable from the outside.
Thiswas my favorite part of this house, though the weather was disappointing tonight.Theheated enclave turned the freezing cold conditions into crisp, fresh air.Abird on a nearby tree chirped happily, and the moon shone brightly without a cloud in sight.Damn.Iwished the sky was beautiful tonight, maybe a downpour of rain, perhaps some tornado-like wind.Hell,I'deven settle for a bit of lightning.
Ileaned my elbows against the balcony railing, scrolling through my phone for updates onRose.Rubbingmy cheeks,Istared at the fountain in the middle of the courtyard whenIsaw the unmistakable shape of cigarette fumes twirling from behind a tree.
Someonewas watching me.Thesame someone who set off the fire alarm.
ChapterTwelve
DAMON
Thesmokefrom my cigarette curled and twisted, giving the illusion of warmth.Inreality, the night was full of shadows and chills.
Seton the farthest corner of the house and overlooking the courtyard,Poppy’sroom was subjected to minimal attention.Thebalcony attached to her room was barely visible in the moonlight.Alight came on, followed byPoppy’ssilhouette.Shestood with her elbows against the stone railing covered in vines.Headbowed, she scrolled through her phone before pocketing it and studying the fountain instead.
“Messageme back, little demon spawn,”Iwilled her, fingering the tattoo hidden underneath my shirt’s collar.
Ichecked my messages for the hundredth time.Textsfrom my uncle about work.Textsfrom girlsIdidn’t know.Textsfrom myPRcompany.NothingfromPoppy.Frustratedwith her lack of response,Iwondered if she was messaging the man her grandmother had set her up with.
Icould understand why her grandmother fixed her up.Poppywas expected to marry someone who fit the expectations of their company’s board.WhileIempathized with the significance of tradition,Icouldn’t allow it.Poppywouldn’t marry out of love, but she would marry for her career.Ifthe douchebag had her family’s stamp of approval, it would close the door on us forever.Thethoughts sent me into a downward spiral.Thissavage reaction to a womanIofficially met last night was unprecedented.Animaginary string pulled me back to this property.Ididn’t resist the festering insanity.Instead,Iembraced the darkness and went off the deep end.
Iwas already in their courtyard, surrounded by tall, whitewashed walls, whenPoppytold me about the little date.Isomewhat disguised myself by pulling my cap lower onto my forehead.Luckily, a zillion people were in the house forRose’svigil.Itwas still a suicide mission, consideringAmbanisoutnumbered me.Thirtymore seconds, andPoppyherself would’ve caught me red-handed.Isaw her striding into the grand ballroom asIlifted my lit cigarette.GoodthingIwas tall.Swirlingthe cigarette under the smoke alarm was the easiest way to break up the non-date.Everyoneflooded outside except forPoppy.Shewas too smart to be cold without a good reason.
Iftheir grand ballroom hadn’t been so large and crowded, sneaking out unnoticed would’ve been impossible.Talltrees with colorful fall leaves encompassed the insides of the courtyard, providing me with the necessary cover to remain hidden.Lurkingaround the yard was still a bad idea.
Ifinished my fifth cigarette, putting the bud out with my shoe.Thewind picked up, along with the sound of waves from a distance.Theminutes passed slowly, butIwaited untilIwas positive the premises was clear.Finally,Iadvanced toward the fountain underneath her balcony.
Poppydidn’t flinch whenIstepped out of the shadows. “Youknow how to make an entrance;I’llgive you that.”Shesounded bored. “Butreturning to the scene of the crime is indicative of serial killer behavior.”
“Weneed to talk.”Igot straight to the point.
“About?”
Ishook my head. “Notgoing to shout it from here.I’mcoming up.”
IexpectedPoppyto protest, refusing to be alone with a stranger.Poppypreferred calculated risks, and being this close to aMaxwellwasn’t in her favor.However, she said nothing.Therewas no change in her expression, either.
