“A team…chant?” one of the girls asks, quirking a brow. The guy beside her covers his mouth to keep from laughing.
“Yes.” I narrow my eyes at her before turning towards the rest of the group. “How about… Blue Team, Blue Team, don’t be shy, stand right up and stick your foot up Cheryl’s ass until she’s coughing up blood and shoelaces.” I eagerly place my hand in the center of the makeshift huddle.
Only Cal, Barret, and Mason join me in my chant.
“For fuck’s sake, Violet,” Vin grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. I swear the man always does that around me—as if my stupidity is capable of oozing up his nostrils. Well…who’s the stupid one now?
Stupidity is not contagious. Idiot.
“I’m sorry,” I say with an over-exaggerated pout. “Did you not want me talking about murdering your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he hisses, glaring at me.
I place my hands on my waist and raise my chin. “Do you want her to be?”
“Fuck, no. There’s only one person I want—”
Before he can finish whatever he was going to say, Mummy lifts his whistle to his lips, and a shrill sound pierces the air.
“Let the games begin!” he roars.
Immediately, my teammates disband, leaving me standing there awkwardly with Mason, Frankie, Vin, Jack, Barret, and Cal. I stare into each of their handsome faces before sheepishly holding up the flag.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I question. On the other side of the unofficial line marking each territory, Cheryl and Alex watch me closely. Have you ever been stripped naked and jabbed in the stomach with a hot poker? If you answered yes, then that is what this feels like. I’m on display for them to see, with the sole goal of inflicting as much pain as possible.
“You protect it,” Mason says casually, reaching into his flannel pocket to grab a joint. I eye it—and him—distastefully, but choose not to comment. He knows how I feel about that shit. According to Dracula, my mom died of some hardcore fairy weed when I was just a child. I don’t remember much about her, except for the color of her eyes…and even that is fading with time.
“And we protect you,” Vin adds curtly. He crosses his burly arms over his chest and lowers his face so he can make and maintain eye contact. “I’ll always protect you, Violet. Even when you hate me.”
I roll my eyes in exasperation. This man can be so fucking confusing. One second, he’s saying sweet shit like that, and the next, he’s sucking faces with my moral enemy. And yes, I meant moral, not mortal. I am virtuous; she’s sin personified. I have morals; she takes those morals and shoves them up her petite ass.
Thus, she’s my moral enemy.
“So…shouldn’t we, like, run and hide?” I ask warily, eyeing the collection of monsters lining up at the barrier. I notice that Cheryl and Alex have already disappeared, no doubt to hide their own flag. What I wouldn’t give to pry that flag from their cold, dead fingers…
Instead of responding, Jack grabs my hand and pulls me out of the cemetery, through the woods, and up the steep staircase leading to the academic building. It’s an old structure, its bricks bleached from sunlight and vandalism, with ivy crawling up and down its sides. At this early in the morning, the building is empty, the silence almost deafening in a macabre sense of irony.
“So this is where the other half lives,” Cal murmurs lazily, shoving his hands into his pockets and meandering farther down the hall. Despite his nonchalant tone, I catch a flicker of pain in his eyes, one he quickly tries to hide.
“Actually,” Mason drawls, taking another long drag. “It’s where we have our classes. There are dorms for the underclassmen, like Violet, to live in. We live in a house.”
Cal and Barret exchange an unreadable look.
“A house,” Barret repeats wistfully, and my mind flashes back to their abandoned floor at the top of this building. There are a dozen classrooms lining the walls and a dusty teacher’s lounge, but there’re no bedrooms. No beds. No television and no couch.
My heart breaks for these men, and I make a vow that after the Roaring is over, I’ll find a way to free them. No monster should be locked away.
Well, except the ones who murder small children.
And the ones who decimate entire cities.
And the ones who hang their enemies by their fingernails in the rafters of a gymnasium.
And the ones who—
You get the idea.
But Barret and Cal? Boogeyman and Cupid? They don’t deserve the shit hand they’ve been dealt. If I can do something about it, I will in a heartbeat. Hell, I’ll even seduce and sleep with Dimitri Gray if it’s required of me.
The things I do for my friends.
“So, we just sit here and wait for someone to try and steal the flag?” I inquire, stepping into an empty classroom and pulling myself onto the teacher’s desk. I recognize the room as Dimitri’s old one, before he became the headmaster.
“Yes, ma’am.” Mason climbs onto the desk beside me and places his head on my shoulder. “Until then, we can finish what we started…” He trails off suggestively, his fingers walking down my stomach until it reaches the apex of my thighs.
“Don’t be a turd,” I hiss, shoving his hand away. I know my face is flushed, and I can literally see my chest heaving as desire courses through me. All I can picture is Mason finger fucking me while the rest of the guys watch.
Fortunately, all of the guys—sans Cal—remain oblivious as they attempt to fortify the classroom. The cupid is staring at my legs intently, pink brows furrowed. When I clear my throat pointedly, his head whips up, and he flashes me a sheepish smile.
“We have to hope that the rest of our teammates find the other team’s flag,” Vin mutters, shoving a desk in front of the door.
“What happens if
