“She’s nother,” Bad Wolf snarls.
Good Wolf, for once, agrees.“Make her go away.”
They make me want to down Melissa’s glass instead of mine, pink cocaine and all.
Parker turns, starting when she sees me so close behind her. I step away, but she’s quick to follow, misreading revulsion for restraint.
When I take another step, she looks briefly confused, and then picks up her glass as if she had meant to all along. But the suggestion I planted hours ago has taken root, and the chemicalsare doing the rest. She’s on a trajectory now. And I have no interest in redirecting it.
“May I ask you something personal, Professor Rooke?” She takes a sip of wine as she waits for me to respond. The second dose of pink cocaine was double the first, but she doesn’t seem to register the extra bitterness.
Christ, what now?
“Of course, Melissa.” I switched to using her first name moments after we arrived.
She hasn’t noticed.
There are so many things the silly girl hasn’t noticed.
She glances away, playing coy. When she looks back, her pupils are blown wide. The drugs are in her bloodstream now.
I do love this part.
Watching them unravel.
Watching them fight for control as their mind and body split apart. The confusion when they register what’s in my eyes but can’t make their legs cooperate.
This is where the real fun begins.
Usually.
But I want this over. I want the sharp bite of peroxide to replace her infernal perfume.
I should suggest we take a shower together.
Or I could drag her into the yard and hose her down.
“Do you ever…” She bites her lip. “Do you ever think about your students? Like, reallythinkabout them?”
“In what context?” I lean back on one foot, watching her with a clinical detachment she completely fails to detect.
“You know.” She sways as she glances away, sways as she looks back at me. Pauses for a big, loopy sigh and a slow, fluttery blink. “Like…thinkabout them.”
Iceberg ahead.
“That’s it.” I set down my glass and reach for hers. “I’m cutting you off.”
“I’m fine.” She moves closer, a lopsided smile pulling at her mouth. “I’mtotallyfine. I just—I think you’re really interesting. And maybe…maybe you think I’m interesting too?”
Her hand lands on my chest.
My wolves fall silent.
Not in anticipation.
Indisgust.
My body registers her touch with all the enthusiasm of a corpse. No quickening pulse. No surge of heat. Nothing but a visceral wrongness that makes my skin crawl.
