Periculum: Unus (Devil's Playground Book 1)

by Natalie Bennett

  Not wanting to get caught essentially assaulting him with my eyes, I looked around the shuttle bus, counting how many people were on board and taking in their appearances.

  Had I not become enamored with the guy beside me, I would have already done this.

  There once was a time I would go to the park just so I could people watch. I liked trying to guess someone’s story, keeping in mind that most appearances were misleading. Everyone had a tale, from the grocery store cashier to the person who delivered the mail.

  No one person walked through life the same as another.

  There could be similarities and situations we related to, but in the end, we were all individual souls.

  The thought had me appraising the gorgeous stranger once more. I was curious about him, more so than I should’ve been considering once we got to the airport, I’d never see him again.

  He suddenly glanced away from the screen of his phone.

  I pretended I was looking through the window, which probably made me twice as obvious. It was hard to play off you’d been staring at someone once you made eye contact. He didn’t call me out on it, thank god, but the hint of a smile had his supple lips curving upward.

  “Are you guys from the area?” he asked, pocketing his cell.

  “Not remotely close.”

  “Where are you from?” Mel asked him.

  “Not here.” His tone was casual but dismissive.

  He didn’t take his eyes off me to answer. Caught up in a tidal wave of blue, his stare seemed to grow that much more intense the longer I looked.

  Piercing.

  That was a good way to describe it.

  He wasn’t staring at me, but into me, as if the armored shell I’d encased myself in was transparent.

  Something about him was oddly familiar. I couldn’t pinpoint what, though. I was one thousand percent sure I didn’t know this guy. He came off as someone who would be hard to forget, no matter the circumstances.

  “I’m Ciaran,” he introduced himself, as if he’d just plucked the thought of me not knowing him from my head.

  “Maverick.” The guy beside him leaned forward with a smile, offering a small wave after he palmed a few loose strands of hair. His dark eyes lingered on Melantha for a full two seconds before he leaned back.

  “The two assholes behind us are Charon and Kyrous,” Ciaran continued.

  His introduction invoked their laughter, but neither of them looked away from what they were staring at. With him disclosing all their names, it seemed only natural to share ours in return.

  I pointed to each of the girls. “Gracelyn. Melantha.” Then I motioned to myself. “Liliana, but everyone calls me Lana for short.”

  “I knew a Liliana once,” Ciaran mused. “You’re much prettier than she was.”

  “Wow. That was kinda smooth,” Gracelyn jested with a laugh.

  “You should hear when I’m actually trying,” he countered, tacking on a playful smile.

  I was semi-confused. Was that meant to be a compliment? I mean, I thought I was okay looking—cute, even.

  My mother’s Hispanic roots had evenly meshed with my father’s Italian genes. My hair was black as coal, long with soft waves. Eyes were almond brown. Skin naturally bronze, much to Melantha’s dismay since her porcelain pigmentation refused to darken.

  I stood barely over five feet tall, and while my stomach was mostly flat, I’d inherited my mama’s hips with an ass that jiggled to match. I didn’t have self-esteem issues or anything, but I was acutely aware of how I looked in that very moment.

  Yesterday I’d been glammed up and ready to take on the world.

  Now? I didn’t have on a stitch of make-up aside from some lip gloss. My red-bottomed heels, along with a hoochiefied bodycon dress, had been swapped for skinny fit sweats, a crop-top, and some retro Js. The only thing going for me was that I’d taken a quick hoe-bath and brushed my hair right before zombie-walking onto this shuttle.

  “Were you three staying at the Royal Palms?” one of the guys behind Ciaran asked.

  “No. We snuck on here to hitch a free ride to the airport because we blew all our money on coke and dick,” Melantha deadpanned.

  Her tone was so casual, it would be easy to miss that she was being a smartass.

  Grace sighed and shook her head, hiding a smile in the palm of her hand. We couldn’t even be embarrassed; this was simply Mel being Mel. We’d had plenty of time to get used to it.

  I looked between the two guys, trying to determine who was who. I remembered their names, seeing as Ciaran had just introduced them, but I hadn’t realized they were twins. There were subtle differences between them. One had amber eyes, while the other’s were nearly the same shade as whiskey. Their hair was styled a tad bit differently too.

  Unfortunately, none of that helped me determine who was Charon and which one was Kyrous. The twin closest to the window looked as if he were about to say something just as sarcastic in response, but the shuttle suddenly swerved without warning.

  A horn blared from another lane as a mix of gasps, a small squeal, and curse words filled the air.

  I gripped the leather headrest in front of me to stay planted in my seat. Once we were moving forward steadily again, I quickly checked over Gracelyn and Melantha.

  “What was that about?” Maverick wondered aloud.

  As if to answer him personally, the music stopped, and the driver’s voice came through the overhead speakers. “Uh, really sorry about that, folks. The usual route’s shut down. I guess we’ll be taking a small detour.”

  Someone up front, a man with greying hair, began to complain.

  The driver cut him off, still broadcasting his voice through the speaker.

  “Rest assured this will only add about ten minutes to the ride.

  I know you’ve all got flights to catch—you can count on me to get you exactly where ya need to be.”

  He clicked off, and music began to play once more.

  “He guesses?” a twin scoffed.

  Ciaran said something in response, but I was hardly paying him attention. I was too concerned about our suddenly reckless driver. Gracelyn gave me a tight-lipped smile, attempting to downplay her own concerns for my benefit.

  We cruised past the turnoff we should’ve taken and continued for a good ten minutes before the shuttle turned onto a side road. After another two miles or so, it became apparent that all signs of civilization were being left behind.

  It took me another five minutes to notice there were no longer any other cars accompanying us.

  “This isn’t right, Lana,” Gracelyn whispered.

  I didn’t have a good feeling about this either.

  I wanted to chalk it up to us being overdramatic, but I knew to always trust my instincts. The further we ventured, the worse my nerves caused my stomach to twist. This was more than acute paranoia.

  There was a sign coming up on the right. I peered around Gracelyn to get a clearer look at it. “Route Six-One-Six,” I read out loud as we zipped passed it.

  Gracelyn turned towards Melantha. “GPS how far the airport is from here.”

  “Already on it.”

  The shuttle took another turn, and someone up front demanded to know where we were going.

  “What the fuck’s that?” one of the twins asked. I peered over my shoulder and then straight ahead to follow his gaze, poking my head around the seat in front of me so I had an unobstructed view.

  We were heading straight for a tunnel. A rather large one.

  Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t have been anything to panic over, but it wasn’t dark enough to overlook the vast blanket of white that seemed to be emanating from within it.

  The driver kept going, his speed gradually increasing. I didn’t understand why. There was no way he could see inside. None. Low murmurs filled the air, a few more people beginning to voice their concerns.

  “My phone isn’t picking up our location, and this route isn’t on my maps,” Melantha sai
d, leaning forward to show us her screen.

  Gracelyn brushed her hair away from her face, tucking the blonde ombre locks behind her back. “Is that normal?”

  No.

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” Ciaran reassured her.

  He didn’t sound as if he believed it.

  I wouldn’t say he seemed worried—more aware of the fact that things were looking extra sketchy.

  As the front of the shuttle drew closer to the tunnel, the radio crackled. Ozzy Osbourne was replaced with an audible static, and then a rhythmic voice began to speak.

  Ave Satanas, something wicked this way comes. It’s time for the reckoning to begin.

  If you enter the Devil’s Playground be wary where you tread, for demons are lurking with trickery up their sleeves. Here good and bad cease to exist, and not all will make it to the end.

  The price of freedom will be revealed only after bloodshed and rapture. A claiming of one and purging of others.

  The voice stopped short, and the song resumed. I shared a look with the girls. That didn’t seem like regular station interference.

  There was no mistaking what was said. Each word had been precise and clear as crystal.

  “What’s going on?” someone yelled at the driver.

  The radio cut off entirely just as we entered the tunnel. A loud bang erupted, the sound carrying inside. A scream tore through the air as the bus rocked from side to side, swerving through the fog.

  I’m pretty sure we bumped the side wall, sending us careening to the left. Someone was flung into the aisle, crying out as they hit the floor. I dug my nails into the back of the seat in front of me, holding on as tightly as I could.

  There was another bang, lodging my heart in my throat as we began to zigzag aggressively, brakes screeching as the driver tried to stop.

  Everything thereafter seemed to happen in the longest seconds of my life.

  The shuttle emerged from the tunnel.

  We tilted.

  I lost my hold, ripping a nail clean off as I fell from my seat.

  And then there was nothing but screams, grating metal, and darkness.

  CHAPTER TWO

  For a moment, I thought it’d all been a dream. When the fuzz finally cleared from my brain and I was able to see what had happened, I wished it had been.

  My head was pounding ten times worse than it was when I woke up this morning, a consistent throb coming from the back of my skull, and my goddamn index finger was on fire.

  Someone had me in their arms. I felt the solidity of them, breathing in their cologne as I peeled open my lids. Unsettled equilibrium had me staring down at a body that had its neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Dull gray eyes were fixed on the shuttle’s ceiling, unblinking.

  It took another second for clarity to swoop in and for me to realize the man I was looking at was dead.

  “Calm down,” a husky voice gently commanded the moment I started to struggle.

  I stilled and slowly looked up, straight into Ciaran’s eyes. The sight of him made me marginally relax. He must have felt it because a smile ghosted his lips.

  “See, I’ve got you.” He tightened his hold and carefully made his way to the front of the shuttle, carrying me as if I weighed nothing and was more fragile than a piece of glass.

  When we reached where the driver should have been, his body was nowhere in sight.

  The windshield was shattered, blood splatter covering the remaining shards. I doubted he was still alive. Swallowing, I turned my head to seek out Gracelyn and Melantha.

  Ciaran passed me through the doors—that looked as if they’d had to be pried open—and one of the twins took me from his arms.

  A pair of whiskey-colored eyes peered down at me with no emotion within them as he helped me stand up.

  “Which one are you?” I asked mindlessly, flexing my fingers.

  “Kyrous,” he answered. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine.” For the most part.

  He nodded curtly, and then stepped away so fast you’d think I were contagious or something. Whatever.

  My attention went right to Gracelyn and Melantha. Seeing they were all right, aside from being shaken up, a huge weight lifted off my chest.

  Grace pulled away from Maverick, who’d had a comforting arm wrapped around her shoulders, and nearly ran to where I was standing.

  “We couldn’t wake you up,” she breathed, her voice clogging with emotion as she hugged me.

  Melantha was right behind her, squeezing my hand, relief reflecting at me from her silver eyes. I gave her a tight squeeze back and brought my free hand to the tender spot on the back of my head, belatedly realizing my sunglasses were gone.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Maybe ten minutes? Your suitcase bounced off your giant globe when you flew from the seat,” Melantha replied.

  I appreciated her attempt to lighten the situation. No wonder it felt as if I’d been drop-kicked in the skull.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Ciaran asked, coming to stand next to us.

  Jesus, he was nearly a full foot taller than me. I had to physically lift my chin to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I’m fine. What about you?”

  “I’m good. I was more concerned about you.”

  That was sort of sweet. Gracelyn let me go, and I began to survey our surroundings, trying to get a better feel for the situation.

  A few things jumped out right away. Our shuttle was partially on its side, wedged in a grassy ravine of sorts. The fog seemed to only be coming from within the tunnel we’d traveled through, which now had a solid looking grate prohibiting anyone from exiting or entering.

  Straight ahead of us was a ridiculously tall fence with an equally as large gate. Small lights and what I think may have been barbed wire lined the top of it. A guard shack was back that way too, but it was totally dark inside. Suffice it to say, things weren’t looking too great. Oh, and the driver who got us into this situation was nowhere in sight.

  I’d assumed he was dead. So why was there still no sign of his body?

  “How did we crash?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Look at the tires,” a curvy brunette answered, coming closer to our huddle. She had the kind of body people paid good money for. Her facial features, on the other hand, reminded me of the two faces of Squidword. Despite that and what had happened, she still looked fashionably put together.

  I peered around Ciaran’s solid frame and examined the four wheels more closely.

  What appeared to be hollow spikes were embedded in each of them. That was a terrible freaking sign.

  “Seriously, what the entire fuck?”

  “My sentiments exactly, kiddo,” an older woman voiced, trying desperately to light a cigarette.

  “Does anyone know what the deal is with that being shut off?” I motioned to the tunnel.

  “Yeah. Someone did this on purpose!” a dark-skinned man seethed.

  Only a few inches taller than me with curly black-silver hair nearly reaching the tailored shoulders of a perfectly pressed navy blazer, his persona screamed ‘authority.’ I think he was the one who’d been yelling at the driver just before the crash. I wasn’t going to argue his opinion, but it didn’t make much sense to me.

  “Did anyone call for help?”

  “We can’t. None of us have a signal,” Maverick divulged.

  I ran my hands down my sweats. Feeling the solid outline of my cellphone, I reached into my pocket and retrieved it. The first thing that popped up was the message I’d received back at the resort.

  Unknown: Something wicked this way comes.

  I’d nearly forgotten about this.

  Seeing it again sent a wave of apprehension down my spine. The voice that came over the radio had used this same line. I was hesitant to mention that right now, though. It wouldn’t add anything beneficial to our situation and could cause people to freak out even more than they already were.

  “Anything?” Maverick asked.

&nbs
p; I exited out of the text and took a quick glance at my signal. “Nope.”

  “You sure?” Ciaran pressed.

  I swear it sounded like he knew I’d just lied. And the way he was looking at me… I diverted my gaze and moved the focus to something else.

  “So, none of us has service? Does anyone here at least know how that’s possible?”

  “My guess? A signal jammer,” Charon answered.

  “That’s what I was going to say,” the pretty redhead agreed.

  “Okay, so there isn’t any way to call for help, and the way we came from has been blocked off. Now what?”

  “Well, we can’t just stand here and wait to see what happens next,” the brunette stressed.

  “She’s right. Staying in one place seems like a colossally bad idea,” Melantha seconded. “We have no clue why or who put out a spike trip.”

  The majority of the group seemed to agree with the two of them, but there was that one person that had to go against the common denominator.

  “All I see is a fence, another fence, and trees. Where are we supposed to go? And what happens if the person who took the driver returns? I have a bad hip,” another older woman questioned, clinging tightly to the one who’d given up on her smoke.

  Took the driver? I had clearly missed something while being passed out.

  I looked to Ciaran for an explanation since my friends had failed to fill me in. “What is she talking about?”

  “There are two dead bodies on the bus, neither of them are the man who was driving. He’s missing.”

  If I wasn’t who I was as a person, his complete indifference and casual tone regarding people who had just lost their lives would be concerning.

  “How do you know he was taken and didn’t simply run off?”

  Kyrous gave me a blank look. “You think he got up and simply walked away?”

  “If he was taken, wouldn’t someone have seen that happening? He wasn’t exactly pint-sized.”

  No one spoke up and admitted to seeing anything. So, he hadn’t simply flown through the windshield and kicked the bucket like I’d originally thought.

  The alternative, him being snatched away by someone… that was mildly disturbing. All of this was like a scene ripped straight from a horror movie.