Wicked Games

by Wood, Vivian

  “I could have been right,” she whispers.

  “But you weren’t. And now...”

  “Now what?”

  Ellis turns on his heel and leaves. I never asked him what game he wanted to watch. It must not have been more important than this.

  I’m not Emily’s boyfriend. Not yet. So I choose my next words deliberately. “Be careful.”

  Spring

  41

  Emily

  Is this just more evidence that is unrelated, or is this really a clue?

  Pursing my lips, I put the heavy wrought iron skeleton key on my bed. Then I lay a long chain necklace by its side, the two metals matching perfectly. If I’m not wrong, and I don’t think that I am, they used to be a set.

  A set that belonged to Asher Radcliffe, once upon a time.

  And I just found the necklace in the trunk of Dr. Napier’s car. I was helping her load some ancient Greek artifacts into her vehicle. She borrowed them from a museum to show them off in class. After class, I stayed behind to help…

  And found this necklace, wedged deep in the trunk of her Nissan Altima. When I saw a glint of metal winking at me, I grabbed it, just the way I grabbed the key on my first day at Campbell.

  Then Dr. Napier started to come around the car and I just…

  I shoved it in my pocket without thinking.

  Now I’m sitting here, staring at the two objects, and wondering.

  Is this the chain that Asher was wearing the night he was killed?

  If so, how does Dr. Napier have the necklace?

  A feeling of dread fills my belly. What if Dr, Napier killed Asher?

  But that’s crazy. I mean, why would she?

  I’ve already pointed the finger once at the wrong person...

  So now I’m sitting in my bedroom, staring at the two objects. I sigh and tuck them away in my purse, pulling out the things to work on my paper for the Henry David Thoreau scholarship instead. I spread my books and papers out around me in an arc. I have most of the paper done, except for one thing.

  The real killer is still a mystery. Who had the means, motive, and opportunity to kill Asher? I’ve been puzzling over that for an hour this morning. My mind shifts off topic again, wandering where it shouldn’t.

  What’s really on my mind is so far away from the murder mystery, though.

  A choice has to be made between Wolf and Max, that much is clear enough to me. And I’m not foolish enough to think that waiting any longer is smart. I know what needs to be done.

  I’m just not clear on the details.

  Wolf is amazing, admittedly. He’s the leader of the Skulls, a standout on campus, and he has those navy eyes that ensure me time and time again. Wealth and privilege run in his blood. He can have any girl he wants. The fact that his attention has been on me recently…

  That is more flattering than I can say. Honestly though, I get the feeling that he resents the fact that my head has also been turned by Max. It’s subtle, but I can tell that time is running out to declare myself Team Wolf.

  In fact, I’ve come very close, even going so far as to give up my v-card to Wolf.

  So what’s my problem?

  The only reason I don’t jump at the chance is Max. Insanely good-looking, wealthy, and so smart it’s not even funny. He’s from the same world of the elite as Wolf, but I’ve never felt out of step with Max. He’s right by my side, making a good point about a poet I’ve never even read.

  And there is the fact that Max makes my soul feel good, even if he doesn’t heat my blood the same way that Wolf does. The question is…

  Is that enough?

  Cassandra comes running into the room, an excited look on her face. She’s going a little too fast and skids to a stop before me, kneeling. She holds two ivory envelopes, presenting each one to me in her two palms. Looking closely, I notice each envelope has a large gold coin, embossed with the words Et Charonis Unum. Stamped across the coins, in unmissably large font, are two names.

  Alexander and Maximus.

  I look up at Cass. “What are they?”

  Her eyes sparkle. “They are only the invitations to the biggest party you’ll ever attend. It’s called the Wolf and The Crossing. I’ve been waiting for my chance to go for years. The messenger just came with them. These two are yours.”

  Setting aside the pen I’m holding, I gingerly reach out and take both invitations. Turning them over, I see that both are addressed to me. Cass clears her throat.

  “Whichever one you don’t want, give it to me? I want to go to this party so, so badly.” She pulls a face. “Unfortunately most of the Skulls are only inviting the girls they date.”

  I look from Cass to the envelopes, biting my lip. I was literally just thinking about which guy I should choose. And then, lo and behold, here are two invitations to the same event courtesy of those same two guys.

  In my heart of hearts, I already know which envelope I have to choose. I may have kissed Max, but I trusted Wolf to take my virginity. If I had it over to do again, I would choose exactly the same. I don't know what it is about Wolf, what kind of magnetism draws us together again and again…

  But I like it. I want to be closer to him, entwined with him, all the time.

  Let’s face it. I’m every bit as hung up on Wolf as Lily is. The only difference is that I’ve got him, through some kind of magic. And I’ll hold onto him as long as I can… even if it means letting Max go.

  I reach out and pick up Wolf’s envelope, feeling its cool weight in my hand.

  “So… can I have Max, then?” Cass asks.

  Startled, I realize I forgot she was there for a second. My cheeks turn pink.

  “Of course.”

  Cass turns her mega watt smile on me. “Thanks! And for what it’s worth… I think you made the right decision.” She looks at her envelope, thoughtful. “Now the real question, as always, is… what will we wear?”

  Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “I’m not sure, honestly.”

  “Well, it’s black tie.” She stands up, cocking her head. “And it starts in about two hours, so…”

  My hand flies to my messy hair. “Two hours?”

  Cass holds out her hand to help me up, then heads off to her room. “Meet me back here in an hour and forty five minutes, okay?”

  She vanishes into the back hallway before I can answer. I’m left rushing to pack up my studies and head to the shower.

  42

  Emily

  I step off of the charter bus, shading my eyes against the late April starlight filtering down through the trees. I’m the fifth girl to get off the bus, standing behind other girls dressed in black or white. I’m wearing another of Cass’s dresses, the black crepe crepe one with the cap-sleeve. The dress has a plunging v-neckline and deep double front slits. I feel glamorous wearing it, like I’m really worth a million dollars.

  I blink and let my eyes adjust to the evening light. Cass is right on my heels, dressed in all white. The moonlight seems so bright, especially compared to the dense thicket of trees our group is shepherded toward. The trees seem to swallow up all the light. When I move forward twenty paces, I am genuinely surprised to see the outlines of an old mansion beneath the trees.

  I guess it’s better than being bussed out into the middle of nowhere. I can just make out that the mansion lights are on. The whole thing is lit up like a Christmas tree, beckoning us onward. Two figures in dark, cloaked robes stand silents between the herd of women departing the bus and the house, holding something.

  They are taking invitations, I would guess.

  As the first girl approaches one of the men, laughing and looking back toward the bus, she hands over her invitation. In return, he steps forward and hands her a heavy-looking mask. Then he leans toward herald whispers something. She gets this wide eyed look on her face, shoves the mask on her face, and starts to run.

  And she doesn’t run like a dainty girl, either.

  Hitching her skirts up, heedless of damaging her shoes, she’
s running for her life.

  I grab Cass’s hand, looking at her. She smiles and sends me a reassuring look, but I can tell she’s worried too. Soon we break apart, heading to different cloaked men. I look up at the tall man, but I can’t see his face.

  I offer him the invitation. He takes it, checks the name, and then hands me a heavy silver mask.

  Then he leans in and rasps something in my ear, causing goosebumps to ripple all over my skin.

  “Put the mask on. Get to the house. Save your man. You have only three minutes.”

  Alarm sends chills down my spine. I start walking, putting my mask on, then start to run. I glance back to try to identify Cass for a second, but she’s still just now talking to a cloaked man. So I turn back to the house, maybe a couple thousand feet in from of me. It looms there in the darkest part of the thicket of trees, its lights going out one by one.

  Ahead, I see the very first girl reach the porch, flinging the front door open wide.

  Get to the house. Save your man.

  What kind of party is this, exactly?

  Gritting my teeth, I put all my effort into making it to the front porch. As I get closer and closer, I can make out the mansion’s gray peeling paint and dilapidated old porch. It probably used to be really grand, only to have fallen into disrepair long ago. I hear a girl scream from inside the house, which slows my steps a little.

  You have only three minutes. How much time has elapsed?

  I gallop up the front porch and into the house, skidding to a halt. The inside of the house is pitch black. Thinking quickly, I pull a tiny pen flashlight from my purse and turn it on. Creeping inside the house, I turn into one of the rooms. A guy in all black comes out of nowhere, swooping in on the flashlight. I scream and drop it, fleeing to another room, and then another. Luckily he doesn’t seem to have followed me.

  Creeping into another empty room, I see someone in a black hood, kneeling silently.

  Cringing after my experience with the unnamed assailant in black, I pull the hood off. And suddenly I’m staring down at Matthew. He’s wearing a tuxedo, bound hand and foot, and a gag is stuffed in his mouth. He’s wearing a big black clock around his neck, counting down from three minutes.

  It looks like I have a minute and half. He doesn’t try to say anything to me, but he does jerk his head up repeatedly.

  “Upstairs?” I whisper. He nods. “Thank you!”

  I make my way out to the hallway, spotting two other girls creeping around, trying to be stealthy. Coming around a corner, I find the stairs. Taking them very carefully, I start to feel a prickle of unease. Three minutes has have to almost elapsed.

  Hurrying as much as I can, I open the first door I see. Ellis is there, kneeling and bound. I feel zero remorse about leaving him and checking the next room. No one.

  I check the third room, praying that I will find Wolf soon. There is a figure in here, kneeling with a hood on. I rush over and whip the hood off, revealing Max. He smiles, grinning around his gag. He’s wearing a similar clock to Matthew, it’s display reading 1:01.

  I glance at him. He makes a noise, offering me his cuffed hands.

  He thinks that I am here for him. Biting my lip, I begin to sweat. It’s only when I start to back out of the room that he seems to realize what my backing away means. I see the pain in his eyes when I leave, or at least imagine it.

  Shit. I should have told Max that I was choosing Wolf. But in all this excitement I really didn’t have the chance. I feel horrible about it even as I rush to the last room upstairs.

  Wolf is there, his black hood cast aside. I run to him, my eyes gluing to the clock around his neck. It says :15.

  Heart pounding, I kneel in front of Wolf and rip at the silky tie around his hands. As soon I get it off, he helps me lift the clock over his head. When he does, the clock stops with two seconds left. I’m helping him untie his gag when I hear a rather loud explosion coming from somewhere nearby.

  “Shit,” is the first word Wolf mutters when his mouth is unbound. “The people that don't get rescued in time have dye packs blown up on them. Did you see who that was?”

  I cringe. “Probably Ellis or Max, if I had to guess.”

  Wolf looks at me, pulling his ankles free. He stands up, pulling me in close to his body. “Fuck. I wasn’t sure that you were going to come for me.”

  I give him a weak smile. “I wasn’t sure either. And yet, here I am.”

  Then he leans down, cups my face, and kisses me so passionately that I could float away. If I had to chose a moment to be stuck inside forever, I know I would pick this one.

  Ellis sticks his head into our room, looking as if he tried and failed to do some kind of chemistry experiment. His face and hands and the top half of his tuxedo are all bright blue.

  “Hey,” he says, nodding to Wolf. “The party is starting outside. If you two lovebird can quit sucking face, that is…”

  43

  Wolf

  If I could stop kissing Emily, I would.

  But I can’t keep my hands off her. I can’t keep my mouth off hers.

  Other women came through the room where I was bound, but seeing her stop and throw herself to her knees in front of me, I got caught up in a storm of relief and a sheer pulsing desire.

  She chose me.

  She fucking chose me.

  I’m usually the person doing the choosing, and it’s been torture having to wait for her to make her choice. Her cleavage still heaves with every breath she takes. I never would have imagined her like this when I saw her that day at orientation.

  We spill out of the back door of the dilapidated mansion into the sharp, clear night air. It’s mostly for show, the way the wood is worn. The general disrepair isn’t as extreme in broad daylight. We could never have this event here if it were actually that dangerous, but my heart still pounds like the time was ticking down to the end of my life and not a fateful of colored powder.

  I wrap my arm around the back of Emily’s neck and pull her in for another kiss. She sucks in a breath, mewling into my mouth. Where can I take her? She’s going to want to see the tent. The tent, out here in the dark and the cold, is fucking magnificent.

  Light streams from all of the window panels, golden and bright. The outside of the tent is a pristine white but the inside is draped in gold, the color deep and rich. I want to hang a necklace that color around Emily’s neck. I want to use the delicate chain to pull her close to me and keep here there.

  She breaks the kiss, her panting breaths hot against my lips. The only thing keeping me from bursting into flame is the frigid air pressing against our faces. Emily, in her low-cut dress with slits so high I could fuck her standing up without even having to hold the dress aside, has to be freezing, but she doesn’t so much as shiver. Her eyes are huge in the moonlight, catching the gold from the tent, sparkling.

  “You chose me.” It’s fact, undeniable, but I say it anyway.

  “I did. I did.” She’s breathless and a I press a hand into the small of her back, keeping her close and holding her up. “I’m sorry, Wolf. I know...things with Max this year…”

  “You’re in a different world.” I lean down and press a kiss to the side of her neck. She lets out a low moan. “Nobody could blame you for having your head turned by different men.”

  “I’ve never—nobody has ever been like you.” I know she means both of us, me and Max, but there’s a low curl in her voice that gives away the anguish she’s felt trying to decide. “Either of you,” she confirms. “But you—when we’re close like this—I couldn’t choose anyone else. I couldn’t.” The adrenaline still rushes through my veins, strong and silvery, paired with a relief that makes my knees feel loose and wobbly. I press my heels into the ground.

  “I know.” She rises on tiptoe and bites my bottom lip, dragging out a low growl. “Fuck. You have no idea how much I want you, and her we are—” I try to shake it off, taking her hand in mine. “Let’s get into the tent before I take you somewhere else.”
/>   Two steps, and she drags me back by the hand. “Take me somewhere else.”

  I turn back to face her, drinking her in. The dress fits like it was made for her, giving me tantalizing hints of all the curves and lines of her body. She’s been at Campbell long enough that there are more curves than bony planes, and it hits me that Emily Danes has not always enough to eat.

  “The party is in the tent.” I tug her close again and breathe in her hair. “Don’t you want to go to the party?”

  “Won’t the party go all night? Are we in some kind of rush?”

  “People will notice if we’re missing.”

  “Let them notice.” She presses in close, and I slide a hand from her waist to the front of her dress, then up inside one of those slits. What she’s wearing underneath could generously be called a scrap. And between Emily’s legs, she’s slick and hot. I draw one finger along the length of her, collecting her juices, and pull my hand back out into the moonlight.

  “Look what you’ve done.”

  “Look,” she echoes.

  I press my fingers into her mouth. She wraps her tongue around them, sucking like her life depends on it. Mine. She’s mine. Only a woman who belonged to me, heart and soul and body, would tease me with her tongue like this, eyes locked on mine.

  When I pull my fingers out of her mouth she makes a disappointed noise. I turn her around, facing back into the mansion, and put my arm around her waist. Emily comes along eagerly, tucked under her arm. I pull the flimsy wooden door open and usher her into the dark. On the way I brush against someone else, someone who yelps in surprise and presses herself back against the wall to get out of the way. I don’t care who it is and I don’t stop to find out. Emily lets out a breathless giggle.

  “Caught—we’re caught—”

  “You’re caught.”

  “I like it.”

  I stop and face her, pressing her back against the nearest mall. “Say you’re mine.” I’m desperate to hear it, almost as desperate as I am to get her to the room I’m thinking of.