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“Actually,” I drawl, affecting a tone of bored indifference, “I think these two have come up with some rather interesting concepts. It's refreshing to see people thinking outside the box. Lord knows dull masquerade themes have been done to death.”
Melanie's jaw drops slightly before she catches herself. Shiloh looks equally shocked, her eyebrows shooting up towards her hairline.
“It’s a good thing you have me as your sponsor,” I continue, “pulling off something this ambitious will require a significant budget. And seeing as we’re representing Blackwood Enterprises, I want this to be an event people talk about for years to come.”
Excited murmurs ripple around the table. Melanie looks hilariously pained, like she's trying to shove those fangs back up into her gums through sheer willpower. Meanwhile, Jemma is practically bouncing out of her seat–but, of course, it's Shiloh's reaction that interests me most.
She's watching me warily, her eyes narrowed in clear suspicion. I gladly return her gaze, allowing a satisfied smirk to play at the corner of my mouth while I pour every ounce of my desire, my dark intentions, into that look. I want her tofeelit, to understand on a primal level that she's well and truly trapped within my sights.
Shiloh's eyes widen almost imperceptibly, a pink flush creeping up her face before she quickly looks away. But it's enough. I've seen it. That flicker of realization…ofintrigue.
A wider, teeth-baring grin spreads across my face as Melanie grudgingly brings the meeting to a close and I slowly rise from my seat. The game is on, and Shiloh is well aware just how much I love to win.
17
SHILOH
As everyone beginsto gather their things, Cornelius appears from Lord Knows Where, an ancient set of keys jingling in his hand.
“For you, Miss Wilson,” he chimes merrily, dropping them into my palm. “You are welcome to drop by whenever you’re ready to make a start on your decorating plans. I’m afraid I won’t be much help with the finesse of it all, but I’ll be sure to convene with the spirits so that you can work without any hindrance from them.”
I choose to smile graciously rather than comment on his bizarre offer of support. “Thanks, Cornelius. I'll do my best not to, um, let them down.”
“I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job, dear child,” he beams. “You’ll see over in the corner there I’ve brought out several boxes of old bits and pieces that decorated our illustrious venue in days gone by. I must tell you, Old Prudencelovedthe year we had a black and red theme, the predictable old maid.” A distant look fills his eyes for a moment, and then he visibly twitches. “Alrighty then, I’ll be heading home.” With that, he dawdles off,muttering to invisible figures with the occasional conspiratorial cackle.
While the rest of the group files out, I turn toward the dusty boxes, surprised to see Dom lingering behind. He's rifling through one, seemingly absorbed in the task. I try to ignore the prickle of awareness that crawls up my spine as we’re suddenly left completely alone.
The silence between us is heavy, charged with an energy I can't quite name. I want to thank him for supporting me in the meeting, but the words stick in my throat. I catch myself stealing glances at him, watching the way his hands move deftly through the box with a slight furrow of concentration between his brows. Try as I might, I still can’t put my finger on why he’s suddenly so committed to making our trivial event a resounding success.
It’s so out of character, I might accuse him of being possessed.
As I watch, thoroughly distracted from sorting through my own box, Dom pulls something dark from the depths of his. I stare transfixed as he turns an ornate mask over in his hands. It appears to be a wolf’s head fashioned out of black lace with glinting metallic teeth. Without a word, he slips it on, obscuring the top half of his face. My breath catches at the sight of him, taking in the mysterious and somehow seemingly more dangerous persona it gives him. It’s as if the last of his humanity has suddenly been locked away, revealing the beast within.
He reaches back into the box and pulls out a fake meat cleaver, the plastic blade dull in the low light of the room. When he speaks, his voice drops an octave from his usual mocking timbre, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Do you remember that game we used to play, Shy Girl?Run and Hide?”
I can't contain the nervous laugh that escapes me. “You can’t be for real. We're not kids anymore, Dom.”
But there's something in the way he's standing, in the predatory tilt of his head, that tells me he's far from joking. My heart begins to race, torn between allegiance to the voice in my head screamingthis is ridiculousand the primal instinct in my gut urging me to flee.
“Dom, we shouldn't…” I begin, but the words die on my tongue as he takes a slow step toward me. It’s a clear, imposing warning–one that leaves chills raking down my spine.
“What’s the matter, Shy? Afraid you can't resist me?” he taunts, flashing his gleaming teeth beneath the jaws of the wolf. “Let’splay.”
And just like that, he lunges and I'm running. My feet carry me out of the room and down the winding hallways of the Manor before I can even conjure a rational thought. I hear Dom's steady footsteps behind me, unhurried but relentless, as if he knows he has all the time in the world to track me down.
I can’t believe we’re doing this right now.
But I also can’t believe I feel so fucking alive.
The sprawling house is a maze of shadows and cobwebs, the fading afternoon light casting eerie patterns through the dusty windows. I skid around corners and dash through doorways, my breath coming in ragged gasps. All the while, I can feel Dom behind me, his pace never faltering. I know he could’ve caught me by now, and the fact that he’s prolonging it only serves to frighten me further.
I finally burst through a set of double doors at the end of another corridor and find myself in the library. Rows upon rows of bookshelves tower around me, the musty scent of old paper filling my nostrils. Without hesitating for a second, I weave between the stacks, hoping to lose Dom in the labyrinth and circle back to freedom.
But as I round the corner of another shelf, I suddenly find myself face to face with a dead end. Cursing under my breath,I spin around, trying to remember which direction will lead me out again. Just as I pause to wipe the sweat from my brow, I gasp.
He’s right there.And blocking my escape.
