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She recovers quickly, but it landed on her like a gut punch. “It’s still suspicious. If anyone has secret society written all over them, it’s that group. I found an article yesterday that says they mark the flesh of the ones they kill. I want in that house tonight. I’m very curious to see inside. I have a feeling they are the key to everything.”

I suspect Dani isn’t telling me everything, either. She’s always believed so strongly of her father’s innocence. She must be connecting some dots, and I might be starting to connect them, too.

My stomach burns as I reach for my mark and tickle it with my fingers.

He’s already chosen someone.

I’m thinking it doesn’t matter. He’s made it clear I’m not the only blonde in his sights.

Maybe he’s done the same thing to Misty, and that’s why she’s acting so strangely. If she keeps glaring at me like that, I’ll be the one to leave marks on her skin.

I keep my face neutral, knowing Dani is watching me. I vividly imagine Misty’s eyes gouged out, and that thought brings a sweet smile to my face, even though it shouldn’t.

Fuck. What is wrong with me? These aren’t my thoughts. This isn’t how I think…

The room grows quiet, each of us in our own thoughts. Dani musing, Misty gleaming and me…I have no clue what’s going on with me, my body doesn’t even feel like my own.

Dani draws out a long blink, then claps her hands. “Alright, let’s get ready. I want to be there by ten.”

I let out an audible sigh and gulp down my last sip of wine.

“This,” Dani says, her eyes darting between us as she slams her hands on the island, “is going to be so much fun.” Dani has a knack for relieving tension.

I finally make it into the bathroom and eagerly step into the soothing shower. The hot water cascades over my chilled skin, instantly warming me up. I gently slide my hands down my breasts and glide them over my stomach, and a sense of relaxation washes over me. The mud oozes off my body as I clean between my legs, and I turn the water up so hot, it nearly burns.

As I lower my gaze, a gasp escapes my lips as blood slowly streams down and forms a crimson whirlpool in the drain. My stomach and breasts bare deep cuts, leaving gashes scattered across my body. These wounds mirror the exact slashes depicted in the photograph Lincoln had sent me.

My heart nearly stops.

Breathe, Summer…one shallow breath. I close my eyes and focus on inhaling oxygen, and when I open my eyes, the blood is gone. And for a moment, I am grateful for the all-consuming terror. Fear is the appropriate emotion.

But a clear pulse hits my center, and that’s when I realize I’m absolutely fucked.

I can imagine how soft he was before he killed Cali. How he spoke to her…so smart, so dirty, so fucking sexy.

Did he fuck her before he did that to her?

What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

This isn’t a kink or a sexual preference; I am actually fantasizing about being murdered. Pure, steely jealousy overtakes any other logic, and my jaw clenches just thinking of it.

Do you want me to kill you, Summer? Well, I sure as hell don’t want him killing someone else. Why the fuck do I keep fantasizing about it?

I shut off the water, head upstairs, and throw some makeup on while blasting music so my roommates can’t hear me scream. I stare at myself in the full-length mirror in my room, completely nude. Then I pull out my lace bra and matching panties—the ones he likes so much—and slide them on.

Then I toss on my tightest black dress and curl my hair in beach waves before adding some thick black mascara.

I pull out my phone and hesitate for only a moment before I click on his name. The picture of his slaughtered victim is still fresh in my messages, reminding me of what he is. My eyes linger on it for much longer than they should, and I decide not to text him.

It’s best if he doesn’t know I’m coming. I’ll keep my face covered the entire time, and he shouldn’t even notice me.

The address on the invitation brings us to an imposing property on the outskirts of town. Dani’s eyes pop out of their sockets as we pull up to the front. The house—if that’s what you want to call it—is more like a compound with remnants of what looks like it used to be a Victorian manor. It’s hauntingly gorgeous, shrouded among the trees, and the lawn surrounding it is immaculate.

The place screams money, darkness, and slaughter.

We drove twenty minutes in the dark to get here and cars are lined up down the street. Shadows are darting around the lawn, swarming everywhere, with hanging lights dangling from the trees. The entire party looks as though it’s outside.

Dani finds a parking spot and pulls the car in, turning off the engine. “Look at how many people are here,” she says, twisting her head, trying to get a feel for what we are walking into. “I can’t believe we almost missed out on this.”