Page 86 of Sinister

Though they can’t pinpoint the exact source of tension in the room, the senses of this mob, which is composed of incredibly spoiled teenagers with a greater-than-average penchant for casual cruelty, are finely attuned enough to detect an incoming tussle.

The SAH crowd loves nothing more than a messy spectacle.

“Petra, I’ve been thinking—” Harry begins, but stops abruptly. Because he has also sensed the shift in the general mood.

Following my line of sight, he sees Sin making his way over to our table with purposeful strides. Instantly, Harry tenses beside me.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck⁠—

“Harry, is it?” Sin’s chilly words cut into my inner monologue. “Can I talk to Petra for a sec? Alone?”

Harry turns to me, as if he’s trying to show that he only cares about what I want in this situation.

“Is something wrong, Petra?” he says in a level voice.

Sin’s the one who replies. “I need to speak with her,” he says in a crisper tone than before. “Privately.”

I see the confusion and underlying fear on Harry’s face.

“Sin,” I interject here, a barely veiled impatience in my voice, “what’s so important that it can’t wait?”

When Sin glances at me, his expression softens slightly, but the hard lines on his face don’t relax fully.

“Please, Petra. It’s important.”

Harry hesitates for a second more and then reluctantly stands up. “Okay, Petra, if you’re sure. I’ll . . . catch you later,” he finishes in a sheepish tone, giving me a questioning look.

“Thanks, Harry,” I try to reassure him with a small smile.

Sin sits down the moment Harry walks away. His eyes follow Harry like a hawk before turning back to me. The kids around us are furiously whispering among themselves, and Sin’s friends look pretty annoyed, but Sin’s gaze stays focused on me.

“Sin, what are you doing?” I’m beyond pissed at the scene this man is creating, so I try to infuse each word with the utmost derision I can muster. And why does he have to look so good? With his hair perfectly tousled, and his lips plump and inviting, and⁠—

No, no, we’re not going there!

Yet the fact that he looks identical to the man from my dreams makes the situation worse. The memory of our night together at Elias’s party is now gaining depth with the addition of these new emotions from my dreams. Where the alcohol-clouded kisses we shared might be a little fuzzy, the dream kiss was not. It was . . .

I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck this and fuck him, and while we’re at that, fuck my idiotic brain, too, for conjuring up those dreams.

“Petra,” Sin begins in a voice thickened with some ineffable emotion. “Look, I’m really sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean for things to escalate like that.”

I cross my arms tightly, not giving him an ounce of sympathy. “Sin, you can’t just scare off my friends and demand that I talk to you.”

Seriously, who the hell does he think he is?

“I know,” Sin replies with an agonized expression. “I shouldn’t have done that. I know I can be overbearing. And I’m sorry for that. I just really wanted to tell you⁠—”

I guess I will never find out what he wanted to tell me at that moment because his words are drowned out by a loud comment from a nearby table.

“Whoa, Sin Arnoult the First is wooing Petra Valentine. Isn’t he scared his dick will freeze off from her frost?”

The remark is followed by snickers and sharp laughter as St. Anselm Hall’s students display their mettle—and taste—for jokes of the lowest possible caliber. Even then, I wince because the cruel words hit home.

But Sin looks positively thunderous, and his jaw tightens. Before I can react, he stands up abruptly. The room falls silent, and the whispering voices are completely cut off.

“Listen up,” Sin says, and the edge in his voice could have beheaded a thousand French nobles. “I know you all like to gossip, but if I ever hear anyone say anything bad about Petra Valentine again, I’ll make you pay for it—and dearly.”

He looks around the cafeteria with fire in his eyes, and I notice some of the students sitting closer to us physically flinch away from his gaze.