Page 11 of Of Heathens & Havoc

I debate making a run for the stairs, but he wheels around suddenly, as if to make sure I haven’t moved while he paces.

“Want to hear it?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I admit. I’m too confused and scared to keep up with his changes in subject. I don’t want to play this game, to toy with this heathen who might or might not be a murderer. They never convicted him.

Insufficient evidence.

That’s what they said.

“Oh come on,” he taunts, prowling closer. “Everybody likes to laugh, don’t they?”

I swallow hard, licking my lips and glancing around. When I look back, Heath’s eyes have lit on my lips, a burning hunger in his gaze that makes me shrink back, my pulse pounding with a mixture of dread and arousal.

Heath takes a few quick steps and picks up a remote from a small wooden shelf built into the rock wall. He hits a button, and a voice surrounds us, as if it’s coming from the stones themselves.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…”

My heart is galloping in my chest now, sure this is a nightmare.

“It’s been six years since my last confession…”

“Is this a joke?” I whisper, staring at Heath.

He throws his head back and cackles maniacally. “I told you it was funny,” he crows, spinning on his heel in a full circle.He claps his hands together, smiling down at me as my own stumbling confession continues to echo around us.

“Turn it off!” I cry.

“Joke’s on you this time,” he says, his eyes sparkling with malice as he paces forward. I shrink back in the chair, pressing my palms to my ears as if I can escape this by not hearing. My cheeks burn as the deepest sins of my impure heart ring out in the room. My throat aches too badly to speak, and tears of shame force their way from my lashes.

Suddenly, the sound stops, and I peek up at Heath, who lowers the remote and stares back at me with pure, incinerating hatred.

“Joke was on me last time,” he says. “For trusting you. But now I know better. I know sweet little Mercy Soules is aslut.”

He slams his palms down on the wooden arms of the chair, and I jump involuntarily, shrinking back from him.

“And slut’s get fucked,” he says slowly, his lips forming around the husky words in a way that sends my pulse spiraling with terror even as my thighs clench involuntarily. His eyes stroke down my face to my mouth, and he smirks cruelly. “Just like you fucked me when you got me locked up with those lying lips. I can think of a few ways that mouth can pay for its sins.”

He reaches out, pinching my trembling lower lip between his finger and thumb. His tongue darts out, flicking over the ring in the center of his own lip.

“Please,” I whisper, my eyes prickling as I stare up at him.

He releases me and spins on his heel again, pacing around the room like a wild animal trapped in a cage. He swipes a paper off the shelf where he got the remote and stalks back to me. Then he slams the paper against my chest and holds me pinned while he fishes a pen out of his pocket and clicks the end to bring out the tip. “Sign it,” he snarls at me.

“What is it?” I ask, prying the paper from under his hand.

He stands over me and holds out the pen, his eyes suddenly cold again. “It’s an entry form,” he says. “For HAVOC night.”

“What’s HAVOC night?” I ask, looking down at the paper. Across the top, the words answer my question.Hellhounds And Victims Occult Ceremony.

“It’s the night when heathens like me come out to play,” he says, rolling his shoulders and grinning down at me with unhinged glee. “A night when we can restore the natural order, when we can be predators and unleash the hounds of hell on our willing prey.”

“Willing?” I ask incredulously, scanning over the rules listed on the page. “Who would sign up to be yourvictim?”

“You’d be surprised,” he purrs, leaning down and stroking my cheek. His fingers send a cold chill rushing through my body, and my nipples tighten into painful buds.

Of course. I shouldn’t be surprised. Girls always loved Heath, even when he was the sunshine and harmless chaos of the group. Now, with an added edge of danger and mystery, I’m sure he’s made it a personal mission to break every rule of chastity Thorncrown imposes on its students.

“Sign it,” he grits out, his eyes flashing with a dark threat.

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