Maleficium (Devil's Playground Book 2) Page 5

  After the second filing cabinet turned up nothing but more dead folks’ files, I rushed over to the desk. Yanking open the top drawer, I shuffled everything around and tossed some crap out. I should have asked Dion what this master key looked like. Was it big? Small? Silver? I had to be careful I didn’t somehow miss it.

  I moved to the center drawer next, shoving aside some scissors and paperclips to lift out a large wall calendar. A flash of silver fell from between its pages, hitting the floor with a soft jingle.

  A bundle of keys.

  Dion said there’d be one specific key that would get the job done, not an entire ring.

  These didn’t look any different than the kind I used to unlock my front door. As I crouched to scoop them up, the light went off in the main office. Complete darkness draped over me like a thick velvet curtain.

  I ran my fingers over the carpet until I found the keys, quickly retrieving them. I jammed the ring into my back pocket so I wouldn’t lose it.

  Knowing I was no longer alone, I slowly rose. I doubted whoever had arrived was on my side. Their presence brought an unmistakably sinister aura. It crept into the room and surrounded me on all sides, tainting the air with a wickedness that was both intriguing and unnerving.

  The PA system clicked back on. “Five minutes.”

  I had to get out of this room and back to Mel. I took a few steps forward, pausing when a familiar scent hit my nose.

  Ciaran.

  He was there, blending with the darkness. I took another step forward and realized he had to be standing right in the doorway.

  I could feel the solidity of him without having to lay a single finger on his body. My pulse picked up—palms beginning to clam.

  I wanted to see him again. Not like this, though. Not when I was at a severe disadvantage. There were a thousand questions to ask and a dozen more things I could say. But I couldn’t do any of that here or now.

  Unable to see any part of his face, I rushed forward and shoved as hard as I could to get him out of my way. I felt his body shift backward, but it wasn’t enough that I could get around him and make it out of the door.

  “Puppet, I expected better from you,” he chided, dragging out the nickname he’d given me.

  Gloved hands closed around my wrists in a bruising grip, the cool leather rubbing against my skin as he used his body to propel me in the opposite direction.

  My boots skid over the carpet as I pushed back, struggling to free my hands. The edge of the desk hit the back of my legs and wedged beneath my ass. He forced me down until I was almost lying flat, placing himself between my thighs.

  “Four minutes.” Crackled over the PA.

  “Get off!”

  “Make me,” he taunted with a laugh.

  I growled in frustration, putting all my effort into getting away from him. I managed to get my left wrist free and shoved at his face. Something that wasn’t flesh met with my palm. He knocked my hand away and grabbed hold of my throat, forcing me the rest of the way down.

  “Relax,” he soothed, his voice low. “Didn’t I say I’ve got you?” His grip tightened, placing pressure on my windpipe.

  An unintelligible sound flew from my mouth. I pulled at his wrists to no avail. He held me in place, not letting up.

  Eyes burning with unshed tears, I reached blindly around the desk. My lungs started to ache, desperate for the air they couldn’t receive. Skimming over paperclips and post it notes, the handle of the scissors bumped against my fingertips.

  I managed to get hold of it after a few attempts. Gripping as tightly as I could, I swung. They found a mark, sinking into some part of Ciaran’s body. It took him another few seconds to release his hold on my throat and he did so with a curse. The moment I was free I jerked upright, coughing as air smelling of nothing but him expanded within my chest.

  “You fucking stabbed me!” his voice was a mixture of anger and amusement.

  “You’re lucky I don’t have time to saw your goddamn dick off!”

  “Two minutes,” the PA chirped as if to further remind me I was out of any seconds to waste.

  I scooted backward to get away, tumbling off the desk and landing on the floor in a disgraceful heap. I scrambled to my feet and took off at a sprint, not waiting around to see the damaged I’d done to him.

  The asshole had it coming.

  I made it to the doorway of the main office, barely avoiding a collision with someone wearing one of the LED masks. They moved out of the way rather quickly, allowing me to slip right by them.

  I retraced my initial path back to the media room. Adrenaline had me reaching Dion in record timing. He was pacing back and forth when I came barreling around the corner.

  “You got it?”

  I reached into my back pocket and retrieved the key ring, slapping it into his extended hand.

  “Eighty seconds.”

  “There should only be one key,” he stressed.

  He whirled around and began trying to open the lock. I waited on pins and needles as we lost another six seconds. When he finally unlocked the door, we wasted no time going inside. He got to Mel before me, and immediately knelt and got to work on the locks.

  “About damn time,” she chastised.

  I ignored her and watched on anxiously, glancing at the clock every time a lock failed to pop. When the first padlock finally opened, I expelled a deep breath.

  “Thirty seconds.”

  “Hurry,” I implored.

  “I’m trying! They don’t take the same key.”

  I kept my mouth shut after that, not wanting to increase the pressure I’m sure he was already feeling.

  He finally undid the last lock with only seconds to spare and together we shoved the remaining restraints off Mel just as the PA crackled to life again.

  “Eleven seconds.”

  Mel jumped up and grabbed hold of my hand. “Glad to see you’re alive and well. We’re leaving now.”

  “Wait,” Dion objected, kneeling back down beside the girl that was beginning to wake. We stopped our hasty retreat and watched him from a few feet away. He managed to unlock two of the four chains before the timer hit zero and a buzzing noise filled the room.

  “Dion.”

  He ignored me and reached for the third lock, sweat pouring down the back of his head and drenching his shirt.

  “Hey!” the voice that’d been speaking over the PA suddenly carried from the rear doorway. “You’re not allowed to cheat.”

  A light clicked on, revealing the same jester from Goetia.

  She took her time walking into the room, dragging a large pickax along the floor. From the immaculate buns on top of her head to the red and white costume dress, she looked almost the same. The only difference from before was that she had added a pair of frilly white gloves to her ensemble. Oh, and she wasn’t alone. Another jester stood watching over her. A blonde with two pigtails, rocking an entirely different getup.

  Dion rose to his feet, balling his fists at his sides. “What are you going to do to her?”

  “Nothing too outrageous. After all, this is my prize. Unless you’re volunteering to trade her places?” she questioned with a wide grin.

  He didn’t reply, inciting her to lift the pickax with both hands and swing. The girl in the chair was just beginning to lift her head as it came down.

  An audible crack seemed to echo throughout the room as the T-shaped metal tip pierced her scalp.

  The girl’s eyes flew open upon impact. She stared at us with a deer in the headlights look. Blood began to run down either side of her face, rapidly pooling onto the floor. The jester pulled the tool back out with a look of pure concentration.

  There was a crack followed by a liquid pop, like opening a can of soda. Visible pieces of bone and brain matter were ripped from within the skull, landing in various places on the floor. That effectively snapped Dion out of his frozen state. He yelled something unintelligible, gagging as he walked backward.

  I reached out and balled a ha
nd in his sweaty shirt, pulling until he turned around and started running on his own. We were able to make a smooth exit through the doors we’d entered the room from.

  I risked a glance back as they were swinging shut, catching the brunette’s eye.

  She blew me a kiss and waved. The last thing I saw before the door slammed shut was a maniacal smile on her painted face.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  You know the saying that everything happens for a reason?

  It’s bullshit.

  Things happen due to a little something called cause and effect. Me and Liliana for example. I made a move and she countered it.

  That’s cause and effect.

  To distract myself from what Charon was doing, I flipped her necklace between my fingers, watching the pendant catch in the light. She hadn’t the faintest fucking clue how significant it was.

  She didn’t know what it meant to wear or why her grandfather had given it to her. I couldn’t imagine being so sheltered, purposely shut in the dark by my own family.

  “You’re lucky she didn’t aim any higher,” Charon grumbled, pushing a needle through my flesh for the third time.

  I grunted in response, ignoring the sting.

  “He’s right,” Jewels echoed his concern. “She could have killed you.”

  “You both know better. I wouldn’t go out that fucking pathetic.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t trying to go in for the kill?” Kyrous asked.

  “That’d be anticlimactic, don’t cha think? It’s too early in the show for that.”

  “You’re good,” Charon cut in, finishing off the last stitch and snipping the extra away.

  “Why drag it out? I thought you were in it for the hunt this time,” Jewels stated.

  She was still in her full getup, face freshly applied, blonde hair in pigtails. Kinks was already on her way to the next set, otherwise she’d have been here too. I’m sure she was causing as much havoc as she could along the way. She lived for that shit.

  “You know Ciaran likes to play with his toys before he breaks them,” Maverick replied to her.

  “Don’t we all?” I probed.

  “I’ll get back to you on that. In the meantime, can you not try to break mine too?”

  “Sure,” I replied nonchalantly. I had no reason to feed into his melodrama. He knew I had control of this situation. I could have kept Lana right where she was until that timer hit zero. I chose to let her go.

  His piss poor veiled worry for Melantha alerted me that he was more affected by all of this than he wanted to admit.

  There wasn’t any other reason for him to be so on edge. Between the four of us, Maverick had always been the most sensitive, but he usually did a much better job of hiding it then he was now. I wished he wouldn’t hide it at all. None of us were ashamed of who he really was. Besides, any concerns he had were unnecessary, which is why I wasn’t didn’t go out of my way to console him.

  This wasn’t my first rodeo—or theirs. I’d done these segments so many times I could go through the motions with my eyes closed. The only difference this time around was that I gave a fuck about who I’d be tormenting. And yet, I couldn’t--wouldn’t make this easy for her. Doing that would fuck everything up. There was no room for error. I needed Lana to come out of this alive. Death wasn’t an option, not for her.

  I’d never believed in soul mates or fate. I don’t think any of us did. I wasn’t big on relationships either.

  While I could easily have been a man-whore fucking someone new every day of the week, I preferred for my dick to remain disease free.

  That lifestyle never appealed to me.

  There was the occasional groupie but that never lasted long. They ultimately joined all the others we grew tired of, down at the bottom of an unmarked grave.

  I’d never saw a point in forming any kind of lingering attachment. My older brother was still reaping the consequences from doing just that. I knew one day I would have to marry someone of my parents choosing. That’s the way the founding families worked. Bringing in an outsider was asking for problems. They lacked the understanding or ability to learn what was necessary to thrive.

  Trying to be with someone terrified of you wasn’t all that enticing.

  I had zero interest in placating anyone that thought there was something wrong with me. With any of us. We had no reason to be ashamed of who we were. They could get fucked with a nine to the temple.

  So, for my sanity and my family’s sake I was prepared to deal with whoever was tossed at me. Not ecstatic about it, but willing to comply. And then I met Lana.

  I wasn’t seeking a damn thing.

  She didn’t want to be sought.

  We were an unlikely match, one that shouldn’t have been lit but I couldn’t deny we made a fuck ton of sense.

  She’d simply come to the wrong place at the wrong time. I couldn’t tell you if I noticed her first or vice versa. We skipped over attraction and went straight to a carnal kind of lust. Half the night was spent avoiding the unavoidable.

  We engaged in a game of cat and mouse where both of us believed one was the predator and the other the prey.

  It was amusing, the way she tried to come off as such a simple, ordinary girl. I saw right through the façade when she let me stare into her pretty brown eyes for a second too long. You can’t hide a beautifully demented soul from someone born to raise hell.

  The night ended the only way it could’ve--with blood on our hands and our bodies tangled together. Everything in our lives changed after that. It was a shame she couldn’t remember all our firsts together, but that only gave me stronger incentive to recreate the moment--bloody corpse and all.

  Jewels came further into the room, her eyes going from the monitors to me. “You sure you’re really up for this?”

  Wasn’t that a loaded fucking question?

  I gave a non-verbal reply and took another sip from the bottle of rum loosely dangling from my right hand.

  On candid camera, the sound of Dion throwing up half his stomach lining while Lana stood a few feet away from him with Mel, reverberated through the room. The two of them were talking quietly together, voices too low for whatever they were saying to be audible.

  Lana’s hair had freed itself from the messy blob she’d initially put it in. The long tresses were half-way down her back--perfect length to pull on when I fucked her from behind.

  She was doing a good job concealing whatever emotions she had simmering beneath the surface. I knew shit had to be a mess inside that pretty head of hers. The proverbial rug had been swept from beneath these girls’ feet.

  There was still oh, so much for her to learn. So much more blood to spill. We hadn’t got to the fun parts yet. Not remotely close.

  There’s always a method to the mania, though. If she thought for one second that she’d make it out of this in one piece or free herself from what we’d started, she was about to find out just how far I would go to ensure otherwise.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  We burst through the front doors of the school and raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time. None of the masked figures were anywhere to be seen. That was both good and bad. I didn’t like not knowing where any of those assholes were.

  “Which way?” Mel asked, maintaining her death grip on my hand.

  “Wait,” Dion choked out.

  He stumbled over to the lawn and fell drunkenly to his knees. With a violent spasm, his back muscles contracted and bile the color of melted Cheetos expelled from his mouth.

  “What--?” he tried to speak, his words jumbling together with another spasm.

  I rubbed my neck and did a quick scan of the street, giving him as much privacy as I could. Now that my adrenaline was waning the soreness from being put in a chokehold was setting in.

  I wished I could say I was shocked Ciaran just choked the shit out of me, but I couldn’t. Besides, he’d proved my hunch correct. He was involved with the masked lunatics that’d been tormenting us since w
e stepped foot off our shuttle bus.

  This was one area I wasn’t venturing too deeply into. I’d already been shoved headfirst down one rabbit hole. This thing with Ciaran would knock my ass right through another.

  Looking Mel over from head to toe, I noticed that the unfamiliar tank top she was wearing had the same logo as my shirt did.

  There was a slight bruise on her right arm from where she’d been grabbed by someone and her peacock-colored hair was a bit messy but that was to be expected. We weren’t here to look like runway models.

  “How are you holding up?” I asked quietly.

  “Honestly? I have no fuckin clue. Ask me that once we’re free.” She glanced at Dion with a frown. “And who is he?”

  “That’s Dion. He said he and his girlfriend were taken by some guys in masks.”

  “You believe him?”

  “I think so. He claimed an ice-cream truck ran them off the road. I found him when I was walking through the woods. Actually, he found me.”

  “Doesn’t seem like one of us.”

  By that she meant he wasn’t a moral piranha.

  He couldn’t see someone die in a hundred different ways without batting an eye. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with that, but we lacked whatever it was he had. Dion shouldn’t have been stuck in this living nightmare. He had a good heart. That would be what got him killed. Just like it did all the people back in Goetia. But him being a decent person didn’t explain what the reason was for him getting brought here in the first place was.

  I told her just as much.

  “I don’t entirely disagree with you, but can we get away from this building before having any deep discussions?”

  “Yeah, we probably should.” I forcibly pulled my hand from hers and approached Dion as if he were a timid deer. His skin was still sweaty, his head bowed. The smell wafting from the puddle of orange goop now coating the blades of grass had me wrinkling my nose.

  “Hey,” I spoke softly, mustering up a bit of sensitivity. “We’ve got to go.”

  “What the fuck just happened?” he rasped. “She killed her. Why did she kill her?”