Page 101 of Grave Possession

Who knows why Victoria decided now, of all times, to try and confront Mallory, but apparently it wasn’t the best idea. “Is she okay? Do you want to take her home?”

“No, she said she wants to stay and try to have some fun.”

I nod, gesturing to the dance floor. “Go. Take her and have fun then.” He nods, patting me on the shoulder,then moves back to Victoria, sweeping her off her feet, and disappearing down the stairs into the shadows.

I scan the area for Mallory, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Again, my cell vibrates, and I pull it out. AMotion Detectednotification lights up the screen. Confused, I swipe to open it.

The new motion activated flood lights illuminate the front yard as my little siren sprints up the gravel driveway. She’s covered in blood from head to toe and favouring her left leg, the limp becoming more noticeable as her pace slows nearing the front door.

What the fuck happened to her?

I jump down off the stage, taking off like a bullet towards the house, passing a man in the throes of passion with a pumpkin on my way. The slimy orange guts cover his groin and cock as it thrusts in and out of the jack-o-lantern’s crudely cut mouth, seeds spurting out and falling to the ground with every punch of his hips.

The run home seems to take no time at all, and when I hit the doorstep, I pause to catch my breath. Quickly, I text Grey, letting him know I’m stepping out for a bit, and to manage the Haunt in my absence.

Flipping back to the notifications, I watch Mal stumble up to the front door. She smears blood all over the panel, trying to key in the code. The light flashes red, and she bounces in annoyance, pushing the crimson-coated doll mask up onto the top of her head. She shakes out her hands then keys in the code again. The door panel flashes green, and her body visibly sags in relief. Mal pushes the door open, and disappears into the house.

Moving to a new camera feed, I watch as she leaves asteady trail of blood drops and smears through the house until she enters the bathroom, where there are unfortunately no cameras set up.

A sharp cry cuts the silence, and I snap my attention back to reality. Pocketing my phone, I creak open the front door and move through the house. Down the hall, the bathroom door is slightly ajar, steam pluming out through the crack. I approach it, holding the door firm and slowly opening it, praying the hinges don’t squeak. I peek into the small room, even behind the foggy glass I can see the red running off her skin in rivers.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” she whispers to herself. “Why can’t you just control yourself, Mallory?”

What did you do, my lethal little siren? Did you kill someone else? Was that scream I heard a result of your savagery breaking the surface again?

My dick twitches to life in my pants, and I have the unrelenting urge to fuck with her. How dare she hide this from me,again. Does she think I will leave her? Toss her away like trash or arrest her for the things she’s done? If those are the thoughts in her pretty little head, I’m going to have to set her straight.

Quietly as I can manage, I sink down to my knees, reaching across the small room. Grabbing her blood-soaked costume, I inch back out the door, leaving her bloody mask where it rests in the sink. Quickly, I dart across the house to the kitchen, grabbing a bucket from under the sink, and putting the clothes inside. I don’t know how much time I have, so I work as fast as possible to clean up the blood with wet wipes. I’ll bleach the floors properly later. Pulling a few from the pack, I inch back tothe bathroom. Determined to clean up everything I can see before heading out to burn the evidence.

Her addictive scent wraps around me, beckoning me to join her under the hot spray. Not this time—I have much more enticing plans tonight, and they’ll still end with me buried to the hilt inside my lethal little siren.

Chapter Sixty-two

Mallory

My adrenaline has subsided, and despite the hot water spraying down over me, a chill has sunken all the way down to my bones. How could I have been so fucking careless and impulsive? The last thing Nox needs is a murder to investigate at his Haunt.

Maybe I’ll be fine… A bear or cougar is very likely to smell the blood and rotting flesh, coming to investigate the hearty meal I laid out for them before dragging my evidence away.

However, they’re also just as likely to pull the dead man out from the woods, and leave him on display for everyone to see.

“SON OF A BITCH!” I hiss, as water runs over the slice in my thigh. How do I know if I need stitches? It’s not an overly large gash, but it’s deep. The corner of the blade head dug deep into the meat of my leg, and it won’t stop fucking bleeding.

Wait…

Nox wanted me to play doctor and stitch him up. Does that mean we have the stuff I need in the house? There’s no way I can go to the emergency department and not have Lennox find out.

I cut the water, and press a black hand towel to my wound. Maneuvering out of the shower is a slippery task, but I manage without falling and breaking my neck. Hobbling to the linen closet, I jostle all the products on the shelves looking for the first-aid kit, knocking lotions and facecloths to the floor.

Victoriously, I pull out the emergency kit. I grab the rubbing alcohol as well, then turn back to the bathroom.

My head might be fuzzy from blood loss, but I know there isn’t any way in hell I didn’t track a trail of blood through the house. Fear coils like a serpent around my chest as I push the bathroom door, swinging it open all the way. Where the fuck is my costume? Where is all the evidence?

Limping down the hall toward the kitchen, there isn’t a spec of blood to be seen. The front door is closed, and the lock engaged. I know I didn’t do that, right?

The realization hits me like a freight train.

Someone knows.

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