Page 72 of The Devils' Darling

“She’s called Mackenzie.”

Tino hands me my drink and stares down at Zane.

“And she’s with the Devils,” he adds.

Zane nods once. Then he stands, glances over at Tino, shrugs, and strolls away.

What the fuck?

“Is he deaf?” I ask Camile.

“No, not deaf, but he can’t speak.”

“Why not?”

“Cat got his tongue,” Tino drawls as he sits back down beside me, passing the Dr Pepper to Camile.

I nudge him in the side and shake my head, but I’m smiling at his goofiness.

“He was cut across the throat, they say,” Camile explains. “It damaged his larynx, and he’s just had another surgery to try to fix things, which is where he’s been all semester, but he still can’t speak.”

“How long hasn’t he been speaking?”

She shrugs. “As long as I’ve been here.”

“Wow. So, he knows sign language?” That makes me think he’s been unable to speak for a long time.

“Some, and him and the other two Vipers have made some up, too. It’s like their own weird, little language.” She shivers. “They all give me the damn creeps. He also carries a pencil and pad with him, and writes shit on that, and he uses his phone, too.”

Kirill strolls up the hill toward us. The injuries his father gave him are starting to heal now, though they’re still obvious. He’s smiling as he approaches, and although melancholy lingers in his blue eyes, he seems as determined as I am to enjoy the day.

Does he feel like I did when I lost my dad, as if part of the roof blew off my house? It’s a strange and scary feeling. One that leaves you unmoored and lost. Familiar places suddenly seem new, and the world can recede as if locked behind a glass wall you just can’t break through.

“If you guys will excuse me, I’m just going to pop to the ladies’ room.” Camile giggles and hops to her feet, brushing down the back of her dress to dislodge any dried grass.

I laugh at her posh turn of phrase, and Kirill sinks down next to me, taking her spot.

“How are you doing?” I ask.

“Good,” he says. “Better now that I’m next to you.”

“Barf,” Tino mutters.

“It’s called romance,” Kirill says. “You ought to try it sometime.”

“I don’t need romance,” Tino responds smartly. “I’ve got my monster dick.”

I have just taken a swig of my drink, and I snort and choke.

“Holy hell, try not to kill the Duchess.” Dom jogs up to us and glares at Tino and Kirill. “We’re supposed to be keeping her safe, guys, not causing death by soda.”

He turns his back and drops to the ground directly in front of me, positioning himself between my thighs. With his back to me, he grabs my bare legs and hooks them on either side of his thighs, then leans into me, his hands on my feet. Tino drapes an arm around my shoulder, and Kirill plays with a strand of my hair.

They’re claiming me in front of the entire school.

Everyone can see us together, and I’m proud to be with them. This moment is us going official on some level.

“Everyone can see,” I whisper.

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