Page 22

Her head whips around again.

“Whoever you are, this isn’t funny,” she calls out, and I smile. Her eyes adjust to the shift in light, and her breath shallows as she senses me watching her.

“I’m not as innocent as I seem,” she warns.

She freezes, staring right at me and from my vantage point, innocent is exactly what she is. I can’t help the smile that forms under the sack. How haunting I must be to her.

We stare at each other for a moment, and instead of leaving, she surprises me by walking toward me, tilting her head, exposing the smooth lines of her neck.

My erection is relentless, straining against my jeans, fueled by thoughts of how to possess her. I imagine all the ways to make her fall for me, because that’s the crucial element for her to become a sacrifice. She needs to love me.

She doesn’t move as I take a few steps, closing the distance between us. As I stare down at the rise and fall of her chest beneath her little white dress, I notice the small cross she wears close to her heart. She stands in front of me so raw and pretty.

Like a little lamb.

Her eyes focus on mine and a flash of fear courses through her. The day I met her, she saw me; I don’t know how she did, but she saw me.

My hand finds her face, my knuckles rubbing over her cheeks. Hitching a breath, she clasps my hands and stares into the depths of my eyes as I move my hand along her collarbone.

“Who are you?” she whispers.

My head tilts in response.

She swallows hard and lifts on her toes, reaching up to pull my mask up. I stop her grabbing both hands into mine.

“Remy, is that you?” she asks. I like the way my name sounds from her lips. Her irises are so white they flicker, and she leans into me. I want to kiss her but stop myself. Not yet…not like this.

“I can be whoever you want me to be, little lamb. You shouldn’t let them treat you like that.”

Her lips part open slightly. “You need to leave me alone.” She turns away from me, running back to her seat. By the time she turns back, I’m already hiding again. She gathers her things and hurries out of the library, and I let her run away from me.

I go back to my spot, sit, and rest my elbows on my knees, trying to slow my pounding heart. I think about the shift in my thoughts, and how complicated things have gotten.

Diana’s arrival to Kinsmen was unexpected, and perfect at the same time—almost like she is meant for me. Now that she’s here, I’m in no hurry for her to die. I plan to have some fun with her before I make her mine for eternity.

A month ago, I watched my sister stand over her boyfriend’s body with a bloody knife in her hand. She took her place as the leader of the Order of the Shadows; an ancient society that worships death. The god we serve expects each of us to offer a sacrifice—the blood of the one we love—to take our rightful place.

I lived with the thrill that I can kill and get away with it since I learned about what my family is involved in as a child. At any moment, I can wreak havoc on this entire town. My father told me to pick my sacrifice soon—and kill her by the end of the summer. Talia expects the same.

Looks like I just found her.

DIDI

Ituck my hair behind my ear and make my way into the class. I blink as the light shifts around me, the fluorescent lights searing into my eyes. All eyes are on me as I feel my way to my desk, desperately trying not to make my condition too obvious by bumping into anything.

I hear the usual teasing—Freak. Weirdo. Cursed.

I ignore them.

It feels different here than in other places I’ve lived. The hatred in this place feels more personal. More jarring. Evil. The fear and anger are so thick, it seeps into my bones.

I recently overheard girls talking in the bathroom about a boy who was stabbed only a few weeks before my arrival and how everyone thinks Remy did it. It’s the reason everyone is on edge. The girls said the name Shadowface. My arrival at Kinsmen is a bad omen—just like Mama always said.

I sit quietly and ignore them, and after a few seconds, my sight corrects itself. Blinking a few times, the room starts to come into focus, and when my vision returns, a few people are staring at me, but it’s Tommy Landry I notice first.

That face… Oh God. Why does he have to look like that?

His soft sandy eyes stare back at me from his seat a couple of rows up and off to the left. I give him a weak smile, but Cindy and her friends are staring at me, too, with their perfect curls and tight blouses and bell-bottom jeans, and they notice him watching me. Cindy shakes her head, her lips curled with disgust, and I clutch my dress, wishing I could look like them. Tommy seems oblivious to her, and her ears are firing red.