Page 12 of Homecoming: The Devil's Society

Tears prick my eyes. My mom.

Immediately I want to ask if we can relocate her here. So I can still have access to her whenever I need to talk to her. Or justbe, sitting with her. What am I going to do without her?Fuck. No.

I can’t do that to her. She’s at rest in Blackwood, under a beautiful tree with flowers. Elijah did that for her—for me. He had no idea the impact he had by doing that, and he still doesn’t fully understand how meaningful his gesture is by doing so. I can’t disturb her over my selfish needs.

He has given up so much.

This is his time now. And I will just need to learn and adapt.

Rain, you can fucking do this.

Nodding my head, I say, “I understand. It’s you and me, until the end.”

The cool blade kisses my skin, lightly moving up toward my knee. Goosebumps follow behind.

“My demons will be able to come out and play more here. I will be free.”

Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I don’t want him to realize the internal turmoil I am experiencing, it will only make his current situation worse.

He hates it when I’m sad. It triggers him.

I need this as much as him now.

“Press harder,” my voice rasps, instructing E again.

His beautiful blue-with-brown-specks eyes are entirely focused now on the knife dancing along my skin. It looks like he is possibly spelling something out as he traces lines, but I can’t make it out.

Then, without warning, he pushes. Only a tiny prick at first, where a bead of blood forms as he moves the blade up again. It slowly begins to drip down my leg. His eyes watch as it slides, and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath in. Before it reaches my shoe, E wipes the trail with his thumb and puts it in his mouth.

“So fucking good,” he moans.

My sweet baby E needed this.

The cut isn’t deep. He keeps it shallow the entire time, cutting maybe an inch more before he pulls back again.

As he takes the blade off my skin for the last time, he tosses it into the sink where it rattles before settling.

Leaning down, his fingers begin rubbing the blood along my shin, painting something abstract with it, I think. My eyes remain on his face, watching the expressions pass through him.

His touch and my blood are warm against me, his eyes are focused. He is happy.

Once satisfied, he steps back, admiring his work, then he nods for me to see.

Looking down, a smile forms on my lips.MINE.

“It’s perfect,” my breath whispers, as my hand reaches to my neck. My fingers faintly rub the vial, which encases the most precious gift I have ever received.

I amhis.

I spend a few more moments admiring it before bringing my pant leg down, careful to not smudge it.

Looking back at him, his eyes seem brighter, happier.

Elijah is slowly coming back to me.

“We should go. We still have a lot to do before tonight. And I… We need to talk to my dad.”

Jumping off the table, I grab his hand and lead him out.

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