Page 3 of Devil on the Lake

“Here is fine. I don’t want you to wait any longer with the traffic of other kids trying to get in,” I tell my mom. I pop the passenger door open and hop out of her SUV to the gravel shoulder. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Have fun! Wait, don’t forget your sleeping bag.” She reaches into the back.

“Mom.” I smile at the Nightmare Before Christmas-themed sleeping bag I’ve had since my thirteenth birthday. My parents have lovingly indulged my enjoyment of the macabre and spooky, never making me feel weird about my interests or personal style. “It’s not that kind of camping. There are cabins and stuff.”

“Ohh.” She waggles her brows. “Fancy glamping. I’ve got you. My cell will be on if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks. Night.”

I wait until she pulls out of the line of cars before trudging up to the gate to get into the private community. Silver Lake Forest Estates is home to the most elite and wealthy in Ridgeview—people like Dante Adams. The huge grounds have everything to suit a rich lifestyle from tennis courts to a spa center to Silver Lake to the facilities at the far end where the party is happening.

This weekend is supposed to be no holds barred debauchery. Everyone at school wouldn’t shut up about the haunted hearse ride that would transport us from the gate to the private campground.

“Hold it, miss.” The guy working the gate walks around the car packed with girls on the cheer team with his arm out.

“What, do I have to prove my address is in the right zip code or show ID so you can double check I’m not an undesirable party crasher?” I frown at the once over the guard gives me, lingering on my legs in intricate fishnet tights.

“Just your ID.”

Rolling my eyes, I dig through my small black purse with suede tassels and hand over my school ID card. “Down, Cujo. I’m good.”

“You don’t look it,” he mutters with a snort.

I don’t think he means for me to hear. Yeah, I look nothing like my classmates—girls in skimpy costumes, guys with skull face paint and dressed like classic monsters. It’s Halloween weekend, but in this town my fashion sense still doesn’t get a pass.

“I’m a witch.” At my deadpan smile, he stares blankly, flashlight poised over my school photo for the same elitist prep school as everyone herre. I spread my arms so the lacy black tapered sleeves of my velvet bodice billow in the chilly breeze. “What? I forgot my pointy hat and broom.”

One of the girls in the BMW leans out the window, her crimson red nails tapping on the door frame. It’s Eliana Abram, daughter of the richest divorce lawyer in the state. Another member of Dante’s crowd. She’s in her cheer uniform with a trickle of fake blood coming from the corner of her mouth. A pair of false vampire fangs scrape her lip.

“Can we go?”

The guard waves them on. I make to follow the car while the gate is open, but he stops me.

“I don’t think your name is on the list,” he says.

Was this why Dante was so insistent I come? So he could rub it in my face that no one actually wanted me here? Lame, especially compared to his other tactics to torment me. I knew I should’ve stayed home watching Skeet Ulrich lick corn syrup blood off his fingers while he’s got Neve Campbell right where he wants her. Billy Loomis in a Ghostface mask is so much better than this bullshit.

“Fine. Give me that back and I’m gone.”

“Is there a problem, Edward?” A tall figure walks out of the shadows—Dante.

Jesus. It’s unfair that my heart does this odd little flip at the sight of him. I might loathe his guts, but tonight he’s dressed like some of my deepest secret fantasies come to life. My gaze travels up his intimidating form from the black boots to the ominous trench coat. He’s shirtless beneath it, offering a full view of his abs and the sinful V muscle that disappears into the black jeans hanging off his hips. His sharp features are half covered in makeup, painted to look like a ghoulish cracked skull.

The guard sighs and waves my school ID. “No, Mr. Adams. Just stopping uninvited guests from entering the property.”

Dante’s amber eyes slide to me and his lips twitch with the hint of a smirk. He hums, taking his time to study me like he’s trying to place me. His long fingers sift through his black hair, leaving it even more tousled and devilish. His attention sends a wave of tingles skittering across my skin, and I bunch my fingers in the material of the sheer lace and mesh skirt I have on over my bodice.

At last, he snaps his fingers. “She’s on my special VIP list. I forgot to give it to you.” He stalks over and slings an arm over my shoulder. When I try to shift away, his hold tightens. “I’ll handle it from here.”

Before I can interject and tell Dante to go screw himself, he swipes my ID, stuffing it in his back pocket while steering me away from the gate. Gravel and dead leaves crunch beneath our feet. One of the hearses I heard so much about idles at the edge of the parking lot in front of a swanky community center. Eliana and her cheer friends pile in, giggling as they take selfies with the morbid ride.

“Whatever you’re up to, I’m not playing your games tonight,” I snap.

Dante’s profile gives nothing away, all sculpted angles and an icy scowl. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, goth girl. We’re just here to party. You should be thanking me for getting you in.” He leans closer, brushing his lips against my ear. An involuntary shudder races down my spine at the sensation accompanied by his deep, rough voice. “I can think of a few choice ways. There are plenty of dark spaces to sneak off to out here.”

“Sorry, I don’t suck dicks attached to complete assholes.” I clack my teeth threateningly. “I’d rather bite it off.”

“You’re freaky.” A low chuckle huffs out of him.

---