Page 53 of Priest and his Anarchist

My persistence wins out. I step forward, but a hand lands on my arm, pulling me backward. The darkness in the room draws back like an ebbing tide at the presence of its master or someone even worse, and I’m back in the low light of Priest’s bedroom.

I blink to adjust my vision when I find Vaden standing opposite.

“What are you doing in there, Lulu?” His tone was distant, but I let him pull me to my feet after wiping my eyes clean. I hadn’t realized I’d fallen to the ground. What the hell was that…

The grip he has on my arm stops my attempt to step backward. I’ve not heard of boys like Vaden and Priest. I know them.

Well.

“I got lost,” I whisper, searching the mysterious tint of his eyes. Both are different shades, yet…the same.

He chuckles, but it does nothing to calm me. At least not the way he used to. “You and I both know that you can’t keep falling down the hole.”

I shove my arm out of his grip, turning to the door that lets me out of this hell. I didn’t want to come to this party tonight, but I did. Damn River.

Vaden doesn’t bother stopping me, and when I’m out of the bedroom and back down the hallway, I slow my way back to the stairs. There have to be hundreds of pictures hanging now, all framed by dark elegance and elaborately carved frames.

A girl standing alone, staring back at a blank canvas.

A cathedral made of candy.

A blank white page filled with nothing. Strangely comforting.

Warmth spreads over my chest the further I walk, taking in each piece with a careful eye. I don’t know what they mean, but whoever did them is talented. Why didn’t Priest use this person to paint the damn pictures during his murder-fest instead of me?

I hold the railing as I continue down the staircase, the music now a subtle pulse of Korn. It’s like the mellowing end of a party where everyone is passed out, or in this case, maybe dead. I need to find River and leave. I shouldn’t be here.

My phone vibrates in the palm of my hand, but I ignore it, pushing through people to find River. It’s useless. I’m not going to find her. When my phone vibrates again, I answer the call without checking to see who it is.

Nature breathes life back into my lungs as I press the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Checking in on you?”

I hold my tongue on what I want to say. You threw me to the wolves, knowing they’re famished. “Good. I’m fine.”

“Luna.”

I lower myself onto the front steps, checking over my shoulder that no one is listening. Riverside has ears everywhere.

“It’s been testing.”

Silence.

Warming my hands by running them up and down my thighs, the contour of my holsters jar each movement. “You knew that was a possibility. It’s going to get worse.”

I cross my arm around my belly, tightening my sweater to stop the shivers. “I know.”

“Good. You know nothing is ever easy for us.”

I do. I know that better than most people assume I do.

“I know.”

“Are you free?”

“Am I?” I reply, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

“You are now. A car will be there soon.” The line goes dead. I stare back at it, ignoring the generic home page Apple installs on every phone.

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