Prologue
Lilith
Age 19
Hallowsdeepisbasicallythetaint of the tri-state area. Yet, I find myself here at a ridiculous house party… on Halloween of all days. I can’t lie and say I don’t have a morbid curiosity about the obscure town, but coming here on Halloween wasn’t my idea. It was my sister’s—my twin—Diana. I sure as fuck wasn’t going to let her come here by herself. It’s not safe, and Diana can be so naive sometimes.
Even if it means that I have to sit here and listen to MMMBop while watching her sit on the campus asshole’s lap. It’s what a good sister should do, and it doesn’t hurt that the party is being held at a mansion that I’m growing more and more curious about each time I look around. I stare at an old portrait for a moment before my gaze sweeps back to my sister.
Diana looks pretty tonight, wearing a pink skirt and top with the butterfly wings that she made by hand, sitting gently on her back. We might be twins, but tonight I’ve dressed like a character fromMen in Black. It goes above most of the party-goers’ heads. I’m just a girl in an awkwardly large suit that I dug out of my dad’s old things.
I cross my legs, sitting in an oversized chair in the corner and watch. It’s what I do best. Diana is the bubbly one, the one with all the friends and the budding social life. It’s not that I don’t know how to talk to people or that I dislike people... well, I do dislikea lotof people. It’s just that something has always felt off. Like I don’t belong.
And not in a socially awkward way. In a way that makes my skin itch and has me wanting more than this mediocre life of frat parties and white picket fences. It’s not that I think I’m better than most people, I just know there’s more to my life than a white picket fence and some stale American dream. I’m not sure what my destiny is, but I know it’s got to be more thanthis.
God, I sound like an asshole, and maybe I am. I can live with that.
While my purpose in life hasn’t been given to me by some burning bush or written out for me in the stars, I know that I have one. I shake off my nearly narcissistic train of thought as I watch Diana. Right now, my purpose is to make sure she gets home safe and doesn’t do anything she’ll regret later. She snuggles deeper onto Tyler’s lap, and it makes me want to vomit.
He’s a known player throughout campus, and my sister seems to think she can change him or that she’ll bethe oneto make him settle down. Men like him can’t be changed. I think they’re born defective. Mix that with a life of privilege, where mommy and daddy get them out of every situation, and it leads to them being an insufferable douche.
He drapes his hand on her hip as he speaks to her, and I do my best to stay put and just watch.
“Wanna dance?” he asks her.
“Sure,” she replies, grinning happily while shooting me a look that screamsplease stop staring at me and being a freak.
They dance together, and it’s gross to watch her touch him, so I make my way to get a drink. The guy who owns the place, Doug, is standing next to the keg.
He looks me up and down before smiling wide; it’s creepy. It looks like he’s about to turn around and try talking to me again. So I quickly turn away and make my way down a hallway in the opposite direction of the dance floor.
The mansion is odd, to say the least, like it was built in the early forties and hasn’t changed much since. The floors look to be original, but that’s not the most interesting thing about the house. It’s the items in the home. As I walk through the corridor, the bass of the music quiets while I snoop through dear-old-Doug’s house.
Old art lines the walls, easily dating back to the Renaissance era. Every six feet, there is a pedestal with a different artifact. Some are covered by glass, like the book I’m currently standing in front of. The language is one I don’t recognize, and the pages are worn, having yellowed over time. I shrug my shoulders, walking to the next piece. It’s a decanter of some sort, and it looks ancient.Who in their right mind would invite all of these people here when they have so much interesting—and very stealable—stuff?I pass by a few pieces of jewelry in protective glass cases as I reach the door at the end of the hall.
It feels like something behind the door is calling to me. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Like a dark pull gripping me around my heart, and it tugs at me relentlessly. I can’t stop myself from grasping the crystal doorknob, turning the handle, and walking into the room.
The door creaks loudly with my entry, but no alarms go off. As I look around, it’s obvious that it’s an arms room. Swords, knives, daggers, and other sharp weapons line the walls, along with the trays laid out on the three tables inside this small room.
I glance at all the different weapons. Some of them look so old I wonder how much they’re worth and what I could sell them for. I shake the thought out of my head when I calculate the possibility of getting caught. I need to be smart about this.
My hands glide against the wooden edge of the table when the glint of a dagger draws my attention, and I stop dead in my tracks. The hilt is black with roses chiseled into it. The blade doesn’t look particularly sharp, but something about it screams ‘danger’. When my finger touches the cool metal, it’s as if something powerful shoots through me. A dark deep strength I’ve never felt before touches every nerve, forcing me to wrap my hand around the handle and fully examine the dagger.
The way it feels against my skin is indescribable, like this dagger is meant to be mine. It feels warm under my palm. Weird thoughts creep into my mind about all of the things I’ve wanted to do but haven’t acted on. I attempt to put the dagger down, but it’s like my body is acting of its own accord. My fist is unrelenting as my grip unintentionally tightens. I swear it’s like I’ve been reunited with a parted item; that this dagger was always mine, but now we’re reconnected. I know I said I was going to be smart about not stealing anything tonight, but…fuck it!
I take it, tucking it in the waist of my black slacks as I leave the room.
I walk back to the party, worried that someone will know I stole something. I should get Diana and get the fuck out of here as soon as possible. I have to push people out of the way asThe Signby Ace of Base blasts throughout the expensive mansion. It feels poetic in a sense as the dagger warms my hip. It felt like a sign, like a blaring neon sign sayingwe’ve found each other at last.
“Woah, where’s the fire?” a masculine voice asks as a hand cups my shoulder. I hold back a shiver, my instincts immediately firing off that the touch is unwanted. I pull the sunglasses that go along with my costume, which have been sitting on top of my head, down to cover my eyes. I can not get caught stealing what I’m sure is a priceless antique.
I look up at the guy, who gives me another one of those creepy grins. “I’m Doug Cummings, this is my house.”
“Oh, hi. Sorry, just looking for my sister.”
“Men in Black, right?” he says, ignoring the fact that I said I was looking for my sister.
“Yeah. My sister is dressed like a butterfly,” I say sweetly. I’m great at mimicking my sister and how she speaks to people. It makes people underestimate me, and that’s how I always want to be seen.
