“I don’t like this,” Cal whispers, giving voice to my own thoughts.
“Maybe we should turn around…” I begin hesitantly, peering over my shoulder at the waning sunlight illuminating the numerous skyscrapers. If Dimitri’s wrong—or if he’s just fucking with me—then I have inevitably led Cal to his own death. “If we make it to the hospital and discover that’s not the way out of this hellhole, there’s no way we’ll be able to make it to the central part of the city before our time is up,” I implore. “So we need to make a choice. Trust Dimitri, or follow the rest of the monsters.”
We pause in the middle of the street, our chests heaving as we whip our heads from one direction to the other. This decision feels monumental, like that moment in chess when you have the capability to capture the other player’s king. Check-fucking-mate. But in this scenario, I’m unable to see the entire game board and the rules have been written in gibberish. One wrong move, and it’ll be game over for all of the players.
“Violet, you know Dimitri better than any of us. Can we trust him?” Cal stares earnestly into my eyes, beseeching me with just his look to trust my instincts.
But…
But what if my instincts are wrong? What if my decision leads to Cal’s death? I can feel myself balancing on a scale, one foot on either surface, but try as I might, I can’t get it to settle. It keeps tilting precariously in one direction. And I know immediately, unerringly, what we need to do.
“We need to get to the hospital,” I tell Cal at last, and I can only pray that my decision isn’t my final one. Cal smiles, nodding briskly, before we continue in the direction of the hospital, just barely visible through the smog.
“Cal! Cheese Curd!” a voice screams from behind us. We both turn to see Barret barreling towards us, a wide grin on his handsome face. He captures me first, immediately spinning me in a circle. His strong arms are like bands around my waist, refusing to release me.
“Barret!” I squeal, relieved to see him in relatively one piece. Besides a blood wound curving down his cheek, he appears to be unharmed. His eyes are alive with happiness and joy. “You’re okay!”
“Of course I’m okay,” he states, confused. “You’re looking at me right now.”
When he places me on my feet, he turns towards Cal with another beatific grin.
“Come here you, asshole,” Cal says, relieved, and Barret wraps the cupid in his arms, being extra aware of his feathered red wings. Cal gently grabs Barret’s chin and guides his lips to his own. The two begin to kiss tentatively at first, almost shyly, before Cal’s tongue snakes out and enters the Boogeyman’s mouth. It’s oddly erotic to watch, and I can feel myself begin to grow wet. When Cal glances at me out of the corner of his eye, I realize the bastard did it on purpose.
“We should get going.” I clear my throat around the sudden onslaught of arousal that floods my system.
Cal pulls away, lips wet and swollen from Barret’s kisses, and turns towards me slowly. “Did you like watching me kiss him, Vi?”
Barret’s eyes immediately smolder, turning heated, as he glances between me and his friend with curiosity.
Honestly, I have no idea how I’m feeling right now. A part of me is jealous…mainly because I want to be in between them while they’re kissing. Like the vampire meat in a sexy sandwich. At the same time, those thoughts are dangerous to have. Extremely dangerous. Cal and Barret are two of my closest friends, and the last thing I want or need is my attraction getting in the way of that.
“Let’s go,” I squeak, flames entering my face. Cal laughs heartily, patting Barret on the shoulder as the gentle giant steps up beside me. Pink dots both his cheeks as he wraps his pinkie around my own.
“You okay, Cheese Curd?” he asks softly, eyes focused straight ahead.
“I’m just peachy.” My eyes automatically flicker to his cock, which is still hard from Cal’s kisses. “Super duper peachy.” Did I sound like a strangled hyena? Fuck me.
“You’re prettier than a peach,” Barret says, his blush deepening. “Cal is more in the peach category.”
“I heard that!” the man in question exclaims immediately. “And I’m offended. What—or who—is prettier than me?”
“Violet,” Barret answers automatically, and god help me, but I swear I melt into a puddle of goo right then and there.
“Y’all are good for my ego,” I tease, releasing Barret’s hand to face them both. Walking backwards—and trusting they would stop me before I tripped over anything—I point first at Barret and then at Cal. “But keep talking. Boost my ego. Make me fly.”
“Make you fly?” Cal asks with a snort. “Really, Violet?”
“What? Isn’t that a saying?”
“You’re saying it, so yes,” Barret pipes in helpfully, and when I flash him a grateful smile, he positively preens. Cal merely pinches the bridge of his nose.
“It is not a saying. No one says shit like that.”
“Violet just did,” Barret points out, and I could kiss him. But I don’t, of course. Because we’re buddies and nothing more. Absolutely nothing. With a capital N. And a capital O. And a capital T. And a capital—
“Violet!” Cal screams abruptly, and I turn just in time to see Alex’s father point a dagger at my neck. His black eyes are swimming with pure, unrelenting darkness, like the deepest depths of the ocean. Pure madness and hatred reflect back at me. Alex stands behind his father, looking small and shaken with his pasty skin and tousled black hair. I can’t help but note that his mother
