I wrapped a towel around myself and padded back into my room. Nerves crawled between my shoulders.I fucking hate this.I tipped my chin defiantly. If one of the guys was watching, let them have a fucking show.
At the thought of their eyes on me, warmth flared between my legs. My body betrayed me, aching for something that didn’t exist.They’re trying to destroy me, and all I can think about is how much I want them. Any of them. All of them. I’m sick. I need help.
Fuck you, Dorien, Titus, Ivan. You’re going down.
I dropped the towel to the floor.
In the storage room next door, something banged. I jumped ten feet in the air, my heart in my mouth.
It’s just the pipes clanging.They always do that after you’ve had a shower. Calm down. There’s no one here.
My fingers trembled as I unhooked the clasps and pulled the slinky material over my head. Crimson satin pooled over my legs, clinging to my hips and flaring out into a fishtail skirt that accentuated my hourglass shape. A panel of red lace between the sweetheart neckline tied in a halter round my neck, leaving my shoulders bare. I did a little twirl and smirked at my reflection.
I might not be a skinny rake like Heather, but I could still lookdamn fine.
I stuffed the cocaine into the secret pocket, picked up my violin case, and descended the staircase as the other students gathered in the entrance hall. Even though it was just 10AM, Heather and Elena clutched glasses of Champagne - Elena’s pixieish beauty only enhanced by her sky-blue dress, while Heather looked like she was auditioning for season 1 ofMy Big Fat Baroque Weddingwith an enormous, puffy-sleeved monstrosity. The Broken Muse boys could pull off pseudo-Baroque frippery because of their superhuman good looks, but Heather didn’t have the same blessings.
As I descended the staircase, my leg rubbing against the cocaine with every step, three pairs of eyes followed my every move. The grey storm, the dark blaze, the sapphire shard – their collective gaze turned me about and did strange things to my insides. I didn’t understand how this sexual tension had risen up between us in the midst of the power struggle we had going on. But for today I was determined I wouldn’t let the Muses see how they affected me. Tonight was my turn to fight back.
Madame Usher swept in, her black skirts trailing behind her. “You all look fantastic. If you haven’t already, please go to the music room and tune your instruments.”
“I tuned earlier, and so did Titus and Ivan,” Heather said in that annoying trill of hers. “It’s always good to be prepared and treat your instrument well.”
Gag me.
I followed Aroha into the music room, setting down my violin case next to Ivan’s. While she shut the door behind us and pulled the lock across, I flicked the latches on Ivan’s case and shoved the bag of cocaine inside. I stood up just as she turned to me, a vicious smile playing across her lips.
It was a symptom of the Muses’ bullying that my mind immediately jumped on the idea that she was going to do something to me.
“Why did you lock the door?” I tried to keep my voice even as I wiped my sweating palms on my dress.
“Chill out, trash. I just didn’t want to share with the others.” Aroha set down her violin case and withdrew something from the inside pocket. A tiny bag of white powder. “Want some? I always take it before a performance. Helps with the nerves.”
Cocaine.
Blood rushed to my ears. After I’d spent the last twenty-four hours with Ivan’s stash in my possession, I was being offeredmoredrugs?Is this some kind of test?
When I’d reeled from the shock, I shook my head. I was held to a different standard than the others. If I was caught with illegal drugs in my system, it would give Madame Usher the excuse she needed to get rid of me.
Aroha smirked. “Suit yourself.” She knelt down beside the coffee table and tapped out a line. My fingers shook as I unlocked my case and removed my instrument.Don’t think about what she’s doing. It’s not your concern. It doesn’t matter.
But itdidmatter. It mattered so much that my hands shook as I tried to tune. And I couldn’t figure out why. Aroha wasn’t really my friend. Why did I care what she did?
Is it because I know she didn’t come from the kind of wealth the others enjoyed? That Ivan was a drug dealer taking advantage of her nerves to get her addicted to a habit that could cost her career?
Yep. That probably had something to do with it.
When she’d finished, Aroha wiped her nose and stood up. “That’s better. Now I can face them.”
“Was that from Ivan?” I tried to keep my voice casual.
“Ivan?” Aroha’s giggle had a slightly manic quality to it. “Fuck no. That straight-edged posh pimp won’t even let a sip of alcohol touch his precious lips, let alone evil drugs.”
My stomach lurched. Had I made a big mistake? But no, the coke was in Ivan’s drawer. It had to be his. Besides, it was too late to fix it now.
Let him dig his own grave.
We finished tuning and left our instruments ready on opposite corners of the room. I followed Aroha as she joined the others in the entrance hall. Dorien passed us on his way to the bathroom, and she grinned and sashayed her hips at him. Her behavior puzzled me – Aroha was a strong, sassy woman who never had any trouble speaking her mind or talking to the others – why did she need drugs to get her through an informal performance?
