Page 2 of The Devil Takes

All of that, plus I was hiding the fact I was an omega from ninety percent of the population?

Yeah.

The only thing I really had going for me was my desperation. I needed this. Needed that room more than I was willing to admit, all my faults be damned. Without the money to pay for it this was my last and only option.

So, stubbornly, I stayed. Even though my nipples were hard and my pecs trembled with each painful, icy breath.

Was this even safe?

Was hypothermia a thing you could get just from wind alone?

Recognizing that those thoughts would only lead to madness, I swiftly put a stop to them. Maybe being stubborn would save me from the cold.

Maybe not.

Either way, I stayed.

Each breath hurt more than the last. My lungs expanded, then shriveled up tight. The cold choked its way down my throat as I stared into the darkness and waited, and waited, and waited.

God, the sun was taking forever. What an asshole.

Maybe I could go home early?

Maybe they wouldn’t know?

Maybe I was just making excuses.

Maybe by staying I was just as stupid as everyone always said I was.

Maybe I’d die out here, only the wind for company, the frost eating my frozen stiff flesh.

Macabre.

A French word I only knew because I’d Googled it on one of the library computers after my roommate had used it in a sentence I didn’t understand. Though, what I’d Googled was Mah-cob. So, I was surprised I’d gotten a result in the first place.

To distract myself I watched as the moon climbed high in the sky, its pale silvery light creeping through the bare limbs of the bonelike trees that bracketed the gateway to Hell. Funny that people called it that, when I knew the truth. Hell was waking up every day knowing there was nothing you could do to end the nightmare. Hell was craving the love and attention of the people that would never stop hurting you. Life was Hell.

Despite what Tommy said, I was a realist, not a pessimist. (Another word I had to Google recently.)

“Hello?” I called, because sitting in silence was almost more painful than the cold.

Predictably, there was no answer.

My cheeks tinged red with humiliation. I swallowed my tongue.

The wind whistled.

An owl hooted.

The stars glimmered, then dodged behind a passing cloud.

“Hello.” The simple reply was spoken so quietly I wasn’t sure I hadn’t imagined it. It crept around me, made of creaking tree limbs and mausoleums. Drafty as the bitter breeze. Low. With good humor. Curiosity too.

Hello.

Had I imagined it?

Maybe.

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