CHAPTER 6
A MASQUERADE PARTY ON A SCHOOL NIGHT
Lexi
“Stop fidgeting, you look gorgeous.” Cordelia grinned at me from beneath the colorful mask she wore, one half painted in white and the other a brilliant red. Half angel, half devil, and pure sin. Her costume was completely over the top with a fluffy feathered wing shooting out from one shoulder blade and a crimson pointy tail pinned to her ass. The tight bodysuit, like the mask, was split in half, showcasing her naughty and nice sides, not to mention every curve of the girl’s body.
I, on the other hand, had selected a short, deep crimson lace dress and a simple black lace butterfly mask encrusted in rhinestones from my roommate’s treasure trove of goodies. And I still felt uncomfortable as all hell as we strode up the walkway to the Sigma Delta house.
Maybe it was because the stilettos I’d also borrowed from Cordelia ensured the short dress rode up so high on my thighs that if I bent over, the entire frat would see my matching lacethong. At her compliment, I stopped tugging at the indecent hem and focused on the looming house ahead instead.
Housewas an understatement, though. The Sigma Delta frat was a freaking sprawling mansion with creepy gothic details and towering spires. I was just waiting for Dracula to descend from the roof and sink his fangs into my neck.
An unexpected chill raced up my spine at the idea of it.
Cordelia strutted up the steps, her dark bob swinging in perfect rhythm, and I quickened my pace to catch up. She was the one with the magic invites after all. I doubted I would’ve ever gotten an invitation otherwise. From everything she’d told me about the party, only the most elite of the university were included.
A big guy in all black stood at the door, wisps of dirty-blonde hair tumbling over his glittery black mask. The guy was built like a freaking ox, his shoulders so wide I wondered if he could fit through the doorway. Light blue eyes glinted through the mask, a hint of amusement despite the tight set of his lips. “Invitations?” he crooned.
Cordelia handed him the soft vellum envelope. He eyed it for a second, then his icy blue gaze fell on me before settling on my friend. “Have fun tonight, ladies.”
“Thanks, Ax.” My roommate shot him a mischievous grin.
“Cordi,” he growled. “It’s all supposed to be anonymous and shit, remember?”
She ran a perfectly manicured finger across his button-down shirt, lingering for a long minute when she reached his belt buckle. “Oops, sorry, I forgot.” Releasing him, she grabbed my hand and towed me through the doorway.
Shit. I had not been prepared for this.
I couldn’t get my eyes to settle on any one thing. Crushed velvet settees and chaise lounges curved around the room like something out of a decadent dream, while servers in tuxedosand black half-masks drifted through the crowd offering flutes of champagne. This wasn’t a typical college frat party. It wasn’t anything like I’d imagined.
The farther inside I moved, the more out of place I felt. The great room dripped with excess, from towering crystal chandeliers to the gold-leaf accents gleaming on nearly every surface. The guests were just as intoxicated as any frat crowd, but there were no plastic cups, no kegs, no bass-blasting pop music. Instead, low laughter and hushed conversations threaded through the space while a slow, sultry melody floated through the air.
Everything about it felt too polished. Too controlled.
Like a party thrown by kings instead of college students.
“Holy shit,” I finally muttered.
Cordelia spun around, a huge grin on her face. “Nice, huh?” That was the understatement of the year.
A server weaved through the crowd and paused in front of us, offering a glass of champagne. “Ladies?”
“Yes, please.” Cordelia grabbed two for each of us.
A nervous bout of laughter bubbled up as she handed me the sparkling crystal flutes which I was fairly certain cost more than my first car.
“Keep ‘em coming, pledge,” she called out after him.
“Those are freshmen?” I blurted.
“Most of them. Some guys pledge the frat later, I’m sure, but it’s not typical. The Sigma Delts always make their pledges do this sort of crappy shit.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Serving drinks at a party is nothing from what I’ve heard. Rumors abound about their grueling pledge term and the initiation...” Her words trailed off. “I’m just glad I’m not a guy. There’s some fucked up shit that goes on in this house.”
Another chill rippled up my spine. There was something about this house, the opulence, the lavishness that sent mythoughts to a dark place. To that terrible car ride. No matter how much I tried to forget that day, it was etched into my skin for eternity. I couldn’t carve it out no matter how much I wanted to. And trust me, I'd tried.
I brought one of the flutes to my lips and gulped down the contents in one swig. The tart bubbles slithered down my throat, quenching the encroaching darkness.
“That’s my girl,” Cordelia sang. “And that’s exactly why I started us off with two. These fancy glasses don’t hold shit.”
