Page 47 of The Honor Society

Subconsciously I reach up to pull my hair forward when a leathered hand snaps out and catches my wrist. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Why is my heart racing?

He tugs me roughly against his chest. The smell of pine and fresh citrus washes over me. I like it. Not familiar, but comforting, sexy. No, not sexy. None of this is. “Hide.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“My mark.” He clarifies leaning down so his mask brushes up against my cheek. “I find great pride in seeing the outline of my teeth in your delicate skin, Famine.”

“Is that why you bit me?”

“No.” His chuckle is rough with the voice modifier. “I bit because I wanted to. I bit because I fell. I bit because I liked knowing people would see.” He pauses. “And finally I bit, because I knew who would suffer because of it. Fuck I love this bite almost as much as I could love starving for one of Famine’s kisses…then again, you’re used to going without, I should probably get used to it too.” And just like that he straightens and walks into my apartment like he owns it. Drops his ass onto my couch and goes. “Pour me a glass of whiskey.”

“I’m not a servant.”

“And yet, you’ll pour.” He says patiently.

“Why?” I put my hand on my hip.

“Because,” he doesn’t look at me. “I’m the only one who can tell you where to find Death.”

14

Twelve Days Until The Convocation

AXEL

“Something happen today, Famine?” She’s always had the prettiest hair, I can’t help myself, I’m like a man starved for attention, affection, whatever the fuck you want to call it. I’m dying to feel that silk between my fingertips, to roll it round and round my finger, give it a little tug, pull her close.

“No.”

I smirk beneath the mask. “Liar.”

“Nothing,” I twist, and twist, I imagine that silk going around my finger tighter and tighter until she lets out the smallest of gasps. “Unusual?”

She’s pressed up against me, her hand on my chest should feel familiar, but it’s astonishing what people believe when you hide behind masks, even if the ones that are the scariest are the ones we wear and call skin every fucking day.

“I saw Axel.”

“How is the heartbroken lad? Begging for you back? Crawling on his hands and knees. Sobbing?”

“You tailed me. You saw.”

“Unaffected.” I say purposefully waiting for her to tense which she does. “In fact, he seems, very angry that you so easily tossed him aside. I wonder what he would do if he knew I bit, I tasted, I liked…”

She pulls away.

I hold her tighter. “Don’t, it hurts.”

“You?”

“You’re skull.” Will she confess? Does she trust me? Or is she keeping all the secrets to herself. “Death, won’t approach you.”

Her eyes search mine. “Why?”

“So many reasons.” I release, her hair, sadly, and get up, I walk over to the door and tighten the gloves on my hands, they feel rough against my skin where they used to feel smooth, damn hair, damn touching, fuck this shit. “I’ll show you where to look.” I pause. “But first, give me the note.”

She stares at my outstretched hand. And strangely enough that’s when it clicks for me, she’s in this game, she’s in it and I didn’t have to ask. Normally, she’d call for Axel, tonight, she’s fucking staring down The Proctor ready to go to war. Bravo, Charlie, bravo.