I bent down and slid the bolt free.
The doors fell open, clattering against the platform. A shadow rushed forth to surround me. Darkness blanketed me, of the beginning of the universe. From inside the shadow, form and substance stretched from another dimension to rake at my flesh, rolling over my body, invading every pore and orifice. I longed to slink away, but I stood my ground.
You hurt me,it seemed to be saying, although there were no words, only a sensation of speech touching the edges of my mind.
“What are you?” I screamed into the hatred. “What do you want?”
I want what you want. You and I are the same.
“I’m nothing like you! I don’t steal the futures of innocent kids.”
I don’t understand—
A thump startled me from my dream state. I bolted upright, my breath catching in my throat as I remembered where I was. In Zehra’s RV, in the woods, with no cosmic deities present. I fumbled for my knife, my fingers closing with satisfaction around the handle as I listened hard.What was that sound?
The still night closed in around me. I dropped the knife.I must’ve imagined it. There’s no one…
Thump. Scrape… scrape.
Fuck shit fuck.
Someone… or something… was outside the RV. Right outside. I could hear breathing, heavy and hard. I palmed the knife handle again, sliding out of bed as silently as I could and flattening myself against the cabinets. My breath hitched as a shadow moved across the window, obscuring the square of pale moonlight.
A voice cursed as they tripped up over the stoop. A man.
It’s probably just a drunk trying to find his way to his RV in the dark,I told myself, but I didn’t believe it. The god’s presence still scratched behind my eyelids. I wasn’t safe anywhere, not even inside my own head.
Whoever it was, I wasn’t going to wait for him to come in and rape me. Or worse.
I crept as silently as I could toward the door. Zehra’s research I’d left spread everywhere muffled my steps. The man outside tried the handle, tugging it so hard the entire RV rocked, but the door remained locked.Idiot.
The man let out a grunt of defeat. His footsteps shuffled away, probably to try the window. I raised the knife above my shoulder and slid my hand across the door, turning the lock and pushing down the handle as silently as I could. With a click like a gunshot, the door unlocked. The shadow lurched toward the noise, and I threw the door open, barging out with knife raised and fire rising through my chest.
“Arrrrghh!” I wailed like a banshee, lunging at the man. He raised his hands to cover his face, dropping a satchel into the dirt. The moonlight caught high cheekbones and wide, terrified eyes. The knife froze midair, and I gaped.
Cowering under the window, wearing a black death metal hoodie pulled tight over a rumpled Derleth uniform… was Trey Bloomberg.
Chapter Eight
The knife clattered from my hand. Trey jerked back as the blade bounced down the steps. I managed to force air into my lungs long enough to form the words, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hello to you, too.” Trey tried to shove his way past me into the RV. I blocked the door with my body, which meant he pressed himself up against me instead. My breath hitched as he sizzled against me, his fingers hot as they brushed the back of my hand. Even now, he could make me feel completely turned about.
Well, fuck him.
Trey was a revenant who wasn’t able to leave the school, which meant this wasn’t Trey. It was an apparition, or a trick of the god, or some new horror sent from Vincent and Ms. West to torment me—
I lunged for the knife, but Not-Trey was too fast, his fingers closing around my wrist and pressing it against the wall. Heat sizzled beneath his fingers, jolting straight down my arm to warm my core.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he growled.
“Funny. You could’ve fooled me,” I shot back, but the words came out breathy, thick with lust. It smelled like Trey – fresh herbs and sweet cypress. Itfeltlike Trey – hard and hot and immovable. I had so many questions, but my eyes fixed on those pouty lips, and I struggled to form the words.
“Hazel, it’s me.”
“You’re not Trey. It’s impossible.”
“Oh, I assure you, I’m me.” There was that familiar voice, thick with scorn but dripping with barely-concealed desire.
