Otherworldly Bad Boys: Three Complete Novels (52 page)

I paid a dollar at the keg to get a red cup, and I filled it with beer. Then I hung out next to a table that was set up in the middle of the amphitheater, eating chips from an open bag.

A few of the people from my freshman acting class came over to talk to me. They tried to convince me to buy cups for them, considering that they were underage, and the guy at the keg was checking IDs. I couldn’t believe the party was so responsible.

I was telling them that I was sorry, but I didn’t want to get into trouble, when Harper appeared behind the guys. “Wait until later,” he said, clapping his hands on their backs. “Everyone gets looser later. It’ll be easier to get to the keg then.”

The freshman guys seemed heartened by this, and they wandered off.

“And here I thought you had a big test in chemistry,” he said.

“I do,” I said. “But Nell convinced me to come. I’m not planning on staying out too late.”

He grinned. “I’m teasing.”

I smiled back. I really did need to study for that test.

He took a flask out of his pocket. “Care for a little nip of something stronger than beer?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe. I’m not trying to get wasted or anything.”

He handed it to me, and I upended into my mouth. Grimacing, I handed it back. When I looked up, I saw that Reba had approached us. She was holding a large Tupperware container and beaming at Harper.

Harper took a step back. “Oh, um, hey, Reba.”

She opened the container. “Want a brownie?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are those
brownie
brownies?”

She laughed. “Absolutely. I had to commandeer a kitchen on the A-wing of the dorm to make them, and I was sure someone was going to smell the pot butter. But nothing happened.”

Harper took one. “Thanks.” He took a bite. “Um, Teagan, you want one? They’ll go fast. Reba’s brownies are famous.”

“Oh,” I said. “No thanks. I don’t... no.”

“Isn’t that sweet?” said Reba, cocking her head to size me up. “Little Teagan just says no.”

“I have this chemistry test,” I said, feeling embarrassed. I’d never done marijuana, even though I knew people who had, because I simply didn’t have any desire to try it. But she’d managed to make me feel like an idiot. “I need to stay—”

“Oh relax,” she said. “Here, I made some unleaded ones.” She pulled a brownie out from the other side of the container. “It’s just chocolate and sugar, I swear.”

I narrowed my eyes. Why was she being nice to me? Maybe she was trying to look good in front of Harper. I accepted the brownie. Giving me desserts did not mean that I thought she was okay.

“You should probably get Harper to give you another pull from the flask. We’re all going to be high, and you’re not. You should drink more just to catch up.”

I raised my beer. “I’m fine.” I surveyed the brownie. Maybe she
wasn’t
being nice. Maybe she was—

“You gonna eat that?” said Harper.

“Um, yeah,” I said.

“What?” she said. “You think I’m giving you one with pot in it or something? I already told you, the ones on this side are unleaded. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I wasn’t saying that you would.” The brownie
smelled
okay.

“Harper, tell her I wouldn’t lie to her.”

He smiled. “Eat it. It’s safe.”

I took a bite. It tasted okay too.

And as the party wore on, I stopped worrying that maybe she had been lying, because nothing happened. I felt fine, even though I did end up getting a little bit buzzed from the beer I was drinking.

Harper and I hung out together, sitting on a railroad tie, and talking about why we thought that theater was important. He said that he thought that it was sacred, because it had its roots in early religious ceremonies, when people did plays, had festivals, and gave sacrifices to the gods. And when I looked around at the forest, everything did seem primeval and connected. I could see his point.

And the stuff in his flask stopped tasting so bad after a while.

* * *

Carter

They were having one of their parties in the woods when I left the inner sanctum of the society. Our headquarters were located underground, beneath the dead tree in the woods behind the college. We had a large library of old books there, things about the ritual. And I’d been there reading away, looking for some kind of alternative.

Not seriously, I supposed. I had every intention of going through with the ritual.

It was only that I wondered if there weren’t some way to... maybe use someone besides Teagan Moss. Or, if it had to be Teagan, to make it so it didn’t destroy her mind. Or, at the very least, to try to find a way to do it without causing her a lot of pain.

From what I’d read, there was no way to do any of that. The ritual was ancient, and it had been performed this way for centuries. Before coming to the new world, the ritual had been performed in Europe. It had to be Teagan because she was the heir of the power that we needed. It was passed down in her family from generation to generation.

It seemed that her family used to be more numerous, but that—several generations back—someone had gotten greedy and tried to take the power from all of the Moss women at once.

It hadn’t worked, because no matter how many Moss women there were, there was only one heir at a time. That heir was Teagan.

So, there was no other way.

It had to be her. I had to do it.

But damn it. I didn’t like the thought of it. She was beautiful and talented and interesting, and I didn’t want it to be her.

Was this how Armstrong had felt before he did it? Was that why he’d been consumed by his guilt, killing himself after twenty years?

I was almost glad of the noise of the party, because it made it harder for me to have thoughts like that. Instead, I had to focus on keeping to the periphery, trying not to be seen.

Everyone knew that these parties went on, but everyone pretended that they were secret. The faculty turned a blind eye, and the students did a very good job of cleaning up after themselves. Technically, they happened on Thornfield property, and if anything happened, then the college could be liable. But Thornfield seemed to pull through scrapes like that fairly easily.

Thornfield housed Scales and Fangs, and the society took care of its home. The ritual I was about to do would make sure that the society had the power to do just that. I couldn’t stop the ritual. I had to perform it. I would be hurting more than just myself if I backed out.

Which I wasn’t thinking of doing. Not in the slightest. No way.

Instead, I was staying on the edges, keeping out of sight of drunken undergrads.

Ahead, I saw a shadowy form bending over and a retching noise. Someone’d had too much to drink and was throwing up.

I walked wide, not wanting any part of it.

“Oh, man, you’re throwing up, aren’t you?” a male voice was saying. “I’m sorry, Teagan, but I’m really not good with vomit.”

I froze. Teagan?

Yes, I could now make out that the huddled figure was Teagan, and that Harper was standing over her, looking disgusted.

That little weasel. He’d probably gotten her that drunk on purpose. Now he couldn’t deal with the consequences of what he’d done? I wanted to pummel him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Teagan was saying. “I swear I didn’t drink that much.”

“I can’t stay here.” Harper was backing away.

Coward.

Another retching noise. I watched as Harper disappeared back towards the party, mumbling apologies.

Teagan fell over, lying against the ground.

I hurried to her, kneeling down.

She gazed up at me. “Professor Alexander?”

“I’m going to get you home,” I said. “You shouldn’t let boys pour shots down your throat all night, Miss Moss.”

“No, I didn’t drink that much,” she protested, but her voice was weak. “I swear. I’ve drunk way more than this before and not gotten sick. It’s just that everything’s so tingly and spinning.”

“Tingly?” I helped her stand up. Tingling was an odd drunken symptom.

“Yeah,” she said. “And my mouth is really dry.” She slumped against me. “Eew, I think I threw up part of that brownie. All over my shirt. Gross.”

“Brownie?” I said. This was starting to make sense.

“You shouldn’t be touching me, Professor. I’m all disgusting.” She looked up at me with mournful eyes.

“I’ve seen worse,” I told her. “Can you walk?”

“Of course,” she said, pushing herself away from me. She stumbled and fell. “Ouch.”

I helped her back up.

“So he fed you a brownie,” I said. “One of
those
kinds of brownies.”

“No, it was Reba, and she said it was a normal brownie, and—” She broke off. “That’s why I’m sick, isn’t it? She gave me a pot brownie.”

“Mixing alcohol and marijuana is generally a bad idea,” I said. “It’s good you learned that sometime. College is probably the time.”

“But I didn’t feel anything. I mean, nothing happened. What kind of drug makes nothing happen?”

I laughed. “Everyone says that the first time.” I braced her against me. “Let’s try a couple steps.”

She staggered, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. “I feel like I’m a very big tomato.”

“Really?” I asked, amused.

“A kind of squishy one,” she said.

“You are most definitely high, Miss Moss. And you’re too drunk to walk either.” I put my arm under her knees and hoisted her into my arms.

“Oh! You just—I don’t think I like this.”

“You going to throw up again?”

“Maybe,” she said. “No. Definitely no. But, Professor, you can’t take me back to my dorm. People will see you.”

* * *

I carried her to my house instead, going through the woods to my back door to stay out of sight. She passed out in my arms after a few minutes, and she lay against my chest, asleep. She looked beautiful. Innocent. She looked alive and adorable and sweet.

I really didn’t want to have to hurt her.

She had vomited all over her shirt, and it had gotten on mine too. For some reason, this didn’t even bother me. I took her into the bathroom and propped her up against the wall. She didn’t wake.

I changed my shirt, and I came back to her.

She hadn’t moved.

Well, was I going to leave her in her own vomit just because I was afraid to undress her? I’d be taking advantage of her, looking at her nudity without her consent. Of course, I planned to rape her and steal her power and ruin her mind. Taking off her vomit-stained shirt sort of paled in comparison, didn’t it?

I eased it over her head and threw it in the trash can. I’d give her something else to wear home.

Her bra was simple blue cotton. There was a tiny bow between her breasts, which filled the cups nicely. Her bra didn’t have a lot of padding or shaping to it. She didn’t need that. It was only thin fabric stretched over her skin.

I was getting hard.

I stood up, thrusting my hands into my hair. So, I’d taken home one of my students when I found her drunk at a party and undressed her in my bathroom.

I imagined trying to explain my actions to someone accusing me.
What? Her bra had vomit on it. I
had
to take it off of her.

I settled back down next to her. I didn’t know why I was worrying so much about it. I didn’t care about her. I was going to use her. If I used her now, what was the big deal? It wasn’t as if I wasn’t planning on taking her against her will eventually, anyway.

I reached around her and unhooked her bra.

There was still sickness on her skin, marring her beauty.

I ran a washcloth under warm water, wrung it out, and sat down next to her again.

This was wrong, wasn’t it?

No, I was only cleaning her up. That was all. I put the washcloth on her, gently rubbed at her skin.

She moaned, shifting slightly. She smiled in her sleep.

Yes, she definitely liked it. She responded in her sleep. So I obviously wasn’t molesting her or anything.

She was clean now. Her skin was a little bit damp. I could see the sheen left behind from the water. I touched one of her nipples, and it tightened right away.

My crotch throbbed.

Her breathing changed.

The other nipple, then. It wasn’t fair to leave anyone out, was it? It stood up straight and hard, just like its twin. Man. She had heavenly tits. They were so perfect.

She sighed.

I swallowed.

I lowered my mouth to one of the nipples I’d just made hard. I put my lips around it and sucked it into my mouth. My hand found her other breast, cupping it, stroking that nipple.

Yeah. I could do this for a while. It was too bad she wasn’t awake.

I pulled away.