Periculum: Unus (Devil's Playground Book 1)

by Natalie Bennett

  Thoughts and emotions swirled within me like a typhoon. My illusion of control was threatening to shatter. I couldn’t let that happen.

  I couldn’t allow myself to revert to the woman I’d fought years to distance myself from because of a little death.

  “We can’t stay here,” Gracelyn filled the silence that had spread amongst the group. “We’ve got almost six hours to accept that we’ll be going back outside with a bunch of deranged freaks to get to the end of this map.”

  “And then what?” Margo asked quietly.

  Grace shrugged. “I’m more focused on us getting through the city. We can deal with what’s next after we’ve done that.”

  “So, what are you saying? I—”

  “We’ve got to play along with whomever is behind this. That’s what she’s saying. Think of it as a game,” Kyrous cut in cleanly.

  “Like Jumanji,” Selena suggested.

  “Game?” Abby’s voice pitched to a near squeal, causing Margo to wince. “People are dying.”

  “There are dead bodies just lying around. Susan just got dragged away like a dog on a leash. My best friend is—”

  “Calm down. We were all there, Pistol Annie,” Charon drawled.

  She wound her fingers through her hair and pulled at the roots. With tears having smeared mascara all over her reddened face, the action made her look like someone on the verge of a mental breakdown. I didn’t blame her.

  “I can’t go back out there,” she whimpered.

  “And I can’t take much more of this,” Ciaran monotoned, crossing his arms. “If you don’t think you’ll last, then I guess you’re shit out of luck. No one here is going to be your hero.”

  “Now that’s enough,” Leonard reprimanded, sitting taller.

  “You can’t go around saying whatever you damn well please, son. That isn’t the way the world works.”

  “My world and your world are two very different places. I do whatever the fuck I want, while people like you remain bottom feeders striving to reach my level.”

  “You little mother—” Leonard caught himself, jaw clenching and fury igniting in his eyes. They stared at one another, hostility practically snapping through the air between them.

  I risked a glance at Ciaran, seeing a grin spread across his face. It was downright cold and sinister. His silent threat was harsher than any he could’ve spoken.

  Leonard took a breath, puffing up his cheeks and then slowly letting the air out, running a hand through his graying hair.

  Wisely choosing not to make the situation any worse, he took two bars from the multigrain bowl and changed the subject.

  “I think the food’s okay. Same brand they sell in the stores and still wrapped.”

  “Why are they feeding us when we’re just going to die?” Abby hiccupped, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “Speak for yourself. I have no plans on dying here,” Mel snipped, breaking away from us to sit at the kitchen table.

  “Girl, you need to stop bringing bad juju to the rest of us. Have some faith,” Selena advised softly, following in Mel’s path.

  “Does this mean the meeting is adjourned? We might as well make the most of these few hours,” Maverick spoke up. “I spotted a bathroom off the hallway, and I’ve had to piss since we got here.”

  He sauntered towards the back hall in a rather chipper mood, considering we’d just been chased here and watched a woman being brutally dragged.

  Everyone took his advice, taking off in different directions, most hunting down food or water.

  I scrubbed both hands over my face, and then turned to go talk to the girls, bumping into Ciaran before I could go anywhere.

  “You all right?” he asked. I had to stop from deeply inhaling more of his delicious cologne like a weirdo. I took a miniscule step back, so my face wasn’t planted in his chest. “Peachy. Having the best time of my life.”

  “With me by your side, it would be hard to do much else.”

  Despite myself, I smiled. With everything going on inside my head, the action felt like stretching a muscle that hadn’t been used in ages. “You really know just what to say, don’t you?”

  “In order to get what I want? Always.”

  “I hope you mean that in terms of seeing me smile.”

  “Of course. What kind of guy do you take me for?”

  “Honestly? I need a little more time to decide. Right now, you’re somewhere between a sweetheart and an asshole.”

  “Huh, usually I get told I’m a fucking psychopath.”

  Okay…

  I was ninety-nine percent sure he was being serious. I was glad he felt comfortable enough with me to so bluntly admit that. It wasn’t usually something someone casually inserted into a conversation. The fact that he knew he could tell me was what I found more disconcerting.

  It served as an excellent and much needed distraction from my own mountain of problems, though, so best believe I was going to home in on it.

  “Beautiful, charming, probably manipulative, cold but sweet when necessary,” I ticked off on my fingers.

  “I can see that.”

  He laughed softly, still close enough that his breath fanned the side of my face, causing an outbreak of goosepimples.

  “You think I’m beautiful?”

  I almost rolled my eyes. We were really having this discussion right now.

  “You know damn well you look good, Ciaran. I’m sure there’s a bevy of unfortunate girls that experienced firsthand just how psychopathic you are because you batted those lashes and flashed a smile to get anything you wanted from them.”

  “Would that work on you too?”

  I scoffed. “Absolutely not. I don’t think with my vagina, and I’ve had enough guy problems to last the rest of my life, however long that’s going to be.”

  He grew quiet, and the various activities in the room replaced his voice. I’m pretty sure someone was using the microwave. Margo was talking with Abby and Leonard between her soft sobs. I couldn’t hear any of the other conversations; everyone was speaking quietly.

  “There’s only ever been one girl…”

  He’d spoken so softly, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly.

  “Is that past tense?”

  “It’s everything.”

  I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly. His tone didn’t give anything away, and I had no response. I glanced over my shoulder to check on the girls. Mel was clear across the room, sitting at the table with a bladder-relieved Maverick and sipping on a bottle of water, smoothing down her hair. Gracelyn was standing by a bookshelf with Selena, talking to the twins.

  I faced forward again, crossing my arms over my chest and studying the map. “Did you see the new path?” I gestured.

  “I saw it the moment we stepped over here.”

  “Should we gather the team?” I was only half joking.

  “Let them relax for the time being. Give those two time to finish crying.”

  I didn’t need to look behind us to know who we were speaking about when I could hear them. “You’re so caring.”

  “Is this the pot meeting the kettle?”

  “That’s fair.” I shrugged.

  So, he’d noticed that too? Interesting. It was kind of nice to be able to talk to a guy this openly—even if he was a total stranger. Then again, maybe that made it even better. It wasn’t like we’d be pen pals or chat on FB when this was all said and done. In this place, I could probably get away with dropping my charade altogether.

  Like we’d been told, good and bad didn’t exist in whatever this city was. Letting my demons out to play wouldn’t see me locked away for the rest of my life. I wasn’t going to, but the thought of doing so was tempting.

  “I do care, by the way. They just aren’t lucky enough to be among the few individuals I deem important to me,” he explained.

  “I mean, same. I’m not some heartless vixen.”

  “I disagree, you’re definitely the latter.”
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br />   Oh, geez. I shook my head, biting back an amused smile.

  “So, how did I get an invite to your special club? Because for some reason you seem insistent on making sure I survive this.”

  “The reason is obvious.”

  I combed through my mind for what it could be.

  This thing, whatever this budding connection was that was trying to flourish between us, that couldn’t be why. At least, I didn’t think it could. I honestly wasn’t sure what he was referring to.

  When it came to Ciaran, there was a lot I didn’t know. I probably never would, and I think he preferred it that way. Yet another thing we had in common.

  “Are you bothered by the names of where we need to go? By any of this?”

  I genuinely cared how he felt, which was throwing me even further off kilter.

  He shrugged in response.

  I waited for him to explain, but that’s all he gave me.

  “What do you think of all that’s happening?” he asked, deflecting the spotlight onto me.

  I took the moment and answered honestly.

  “I didn’t really know what to think. I still don’t—I can’t think of any reason why someone would do all of this to a random group of strangers. This took a shit-ton of effort. I mean, there are people out there riding around in an ice cream truck.”

  “And a motorcycle, you can’t forget about the badass biker.”

  I coughed to disguise a laugh, looking back to make sure Margo didn’t hear him. “That was so wrong,” I hissed.

  “Yet, you almost laughed.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You’ve got a dimple that pops in your chin any time you remotely smile.”

  I reflexively brought my hand up to cover said dimple. I already knew I had a few minor issues, but clearly this guy did too. That’s where the connection stemmed from—I’d discovered a kindred spirit. I hated it had to be under these circumstances.

  “Okay, so we’ve got the purge squad roaming the city, and we’re the only people around to be purged.”

  “How do you know they’re strangers?”

  Pushed into a state of confusion, it took me a second to respond. “Who?”

  “The people in this room.”

  “I already asked if anyone knew each other, remember?”

  He thumbed his chin, looking thoughtful. “Maybe they don’t know that they do, but there’s no way that this is random.”

  I agreed that this didn’t seem all that sporadic. I’d assumed as much when I saw all our names listed together back at the Visitor’s Center. Not to mention how strategically put together everything seemed to be.

  As for his other theory…

  I toyed with my necklace as I considered that angle, flipping the pendant between my fingers.

  “You mean there’s a connection they aren’t aware of?” I contemplated aloud.

  He didn’t answer right away, his eyes trained on what I was doing. He lifted them to mine after a few seconds. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  I tucked the pendant beneath the collar of my crop-top and turned to face him. “How do we figure that out?”

  He raised his brows. “We could just ask.”

  “Oh, duh.”

  He smiled down at me, causing my stomach to flip. I swept my eyes over every inch of his gorgeous face before bringing my gaze back to his. He’d stopped smiling, an expression I couldn’t decipher now obscuring his features.

  Ciaran had a darkness to him for sure, I could sense it in him as easily as I could tell when it was day or night. I was the cat curiosity couldn’t kill, eager to explore all his hidden depths.

  “If you be Watson, I’ll be Sherlock,” he said after a minute passed with us simply trying to figure out the other.

  “Please, I’m always Sherlock,” I scoffed, brushing by him to go play detective.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ten minutes was all it took to prove his theory correct.

  Kind of.

  It’d taken longer to get Margo and Abby to join us at the table without physically moving them there ourselves.

  I took a sip of water, almost moaning as it watered my dry throat.

  Gracelyn had found some newly packaged crackers and placed them between us to share. It wasn’t a fry up, but it was better than nothing.

  Ciaran was sitting directly across from me, adjacent to Mel, with the straw of a boxed apple juice wedged between his pink, plump lips.

  “So, what was everyone doing at the resort?” I asked, trying not to stare at him.

  “Susan had—Susan was,” Margo corrected, drawing in a deep breath. “Susan was recently diagnosed with dementia. This was our last hurrah. We wanted some final memories.”

  There was a brief lull. I’m sure this wasn’t what either of them had in mind. I could tell she was holding out hope that her aunt was alive. I wouldn’t crush that, but I think everyone else knew better.

  It would be better if she were dead.

  If she wasn’t, the amount of agony she’d be in right now had to be unbearable. We’d have to put her down once—if—we found her. Like the farmers did their wounded or sick livestock.

  “Heather and I were attending a seminar for work,” Abby divulged, sniffling.

  “I took a pleasure trip to celebrate my retirement. I was a P.O,” Leonard said.

  His made sense. Abby’s too, I guess.

  “You know why I was here. I got kicked out of a bachelorette gathering. That was two days ago, if time is relevant. I stayed to enjoy the trip already paid for. It was the least Mama could do for getting hitched to some creepy asshole,” Selena stated.

  Charon and Kyrous shared a look, then both stared at her.

  “No fuckin way,” Maverick started to laugh.

  “You’re the one who assaulted Kennedy,” Ciaran said. Not a question, a statement.

  Selena rolled her eyes and sighed. “I threw a pool towel at her, that’s hardly assault.”

  “You all know each other then?” Grace interjected, looking between them.

  “We would’ve met Pebbles two days ago if she hadn’t attacked our sister.”

  “You may have known about me, but I didn’t know anything about either of you until this very moment. All the more reason I don’t trust whatever the hell is going on with my ma and your dad,” she affirmed, eyeing Charon warily. “And I didn’t attack anyone. I threw a towel at her. She deserved more than that.”

  “Ken is a bitch,” Kyrous agreed in his typical detached tone.

  “What a charming family reunion,” Mel stated sarcastically.

  “Whatever you want to call it, there’s a link now,” Grace said.

  “For them, yes. Not for the rest of us,” Leonard replied.

  Which was true.

  “How did you end up on the same shuttle as one another?” I asked.

  “We were going to the airport to catch our flight home,” Maverick answered.

  “The better question is why a group of young men were at a bachelorette party… unless they’d been hired as entertainment,” Margo said.

  “Our father had his bachelor party at the same resort. He’s flying elsewhere,” Kyrous explained.

  They had a few coincidences between their scenarios, but not wholly abnormal or anything to freak out over, and whatever family stuff they had going on didn’t have any relevance to the rest of us.

  “What about you three? Why were you at the resort?” Ciaran asked, resting his elbows on the table.

  “A girls’ trip,” Mel answered dismissively.

  I recapped my water and sighed. “Okay, so you three are semi-related, but—”

  “I’m not related to them,” Selena interrupted. “When this is over, I never want to see any of ya’ll again.”

  She looked at the three of us and offered an apologetic smile. “No offense.”

  “None to be taken, I feel the same way,” Gracelyn replied.

  “Aw, don’t be that way, sis,” Charon goaded.
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  She smartly ignored him. This was some family drama they’d have to iron out at a more apt time. We needed to focus on getting out of here.

  “What do we do now? Any ideas?”

  “We have a little over five hours before we have to go back out there and deal with whatever is coming next. I suggest you claim a room and try to get some sleep. We can take turns on watch duty,” Ciaran said.

  That wasn’t a bad idea.

  No one spoke up and disagreed. With nothing else needing urgent attention, I recapped my water and slid back from the table, excusing myself to use the bathroom.

  It had undeniably been the longest twenty-four hours of my life.

  If it had even been that long. There weren’t any clocks here. Time had dissolved into nothing.

  The countdown was just that—a timer. It didn’t tell us the minute or hour, whether it was AM or PM.

  That would be something I never took for granted again. But neither lack of time nor the comfort of the cloudlike mattress beneath me could help me sleep.

  I must have woken at least six times by now. With every interruption, thoughts assaulted my mind before I opened my eyes. They churned, none lingering for very long at the forefront.

  I had no idea what was going to happen when we stepped outside of the Sanctuary. I wondered how our families were handling our disappearance. Would they know something was wrong? Or would they automatically assume we’d finally gone nomad? Foolishly, at that. Either way, they’d raise a cavalry to find us if need be. There was no real escape for us.

  Just because they tried, though, didn’t mean they’d be successful. How did you locate somewhere this clandestine? Who knew if I’d still be alive when they did?

  There didn’t seem to be a specific sequence of the deaths that had occurred around us. Those men in masks… they reminded me of an old wives’ tale my abuela used to tell.

  I wouldn’t make it easy for them to hurt me or the girls.

  Screw that.

  The average human being could do terrible things to another. I wasn’t an exception. I was raised to always go for the throat. I’d never lie down like a dog in the street and die. I’d let my beloved demons out of the cage I had them locked away in before that happened.