Page 8 of Lust

Juliette and Quinn look at me blankly so I elaborate. “She’s as sickly sweet as that syrup you’re eating, but I get the feeling she’s not all she makes herself out to be. She gives me the ick.”

Juliette squints “The ick? Pray tell, what is the ick?”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I just don’t want to get too close to her.”

“I wouldn’t get too close to any of them,” Quinn adds. “It’s probably against the rules.”

Juliette sits back in her chair and chews on a pancake thoughtfully. “I don’t see how. Twila did… and Felix!”

My mouth automatically curls into a sneer at the mere mention of his name. “Twila left the games and Felix gets away with everything. Seriously, must we talk about men? Surely there are better topics of conversation? I feel like I’m back in high school giggling over the jocks.”

“Have you seen the staff here? “Juliette muses, obviously ignoring my suggestion. “It’s like being in porn, but everyone is amazing looking. Did you notice how hot our waiter was?” She picks up a pancake and adds it to her plate before covering it with more of the sticky pink syrup.

“Just remember, they are all demons who are glamored,” Quinn warns. “Just because they are gorgeous up here doesn’t mean they don’t have horns and scaly skin in real life.

Juliette shrugs. “I could go for that. I’m really not picky. As long as that bulge in his pants wasn’t glamored.”

“It’s probably a tentacle or something weird,” Quinn muses.

I pick at my breakfast. “As long as whatever it was didn’t touch my eggs,” I say flatly, poking them with a fork. This elicits another round of laughter from the girls and I can’t help the corners of my mouth elevating.

“I don’t think you’re equipped with any eggs, Rob, so don’t need to worry on that score.”

My hand tightens on my fork, but Juliette’s hand comes down on mine, stopping me from going on a murderous rampage.

“Ignore him,” she mouths, glaring at Felix’s retreating form.

“Easier said than done with what I’ll be expected to do to him tomorrow. You heard Noémi. We have to get intimate with each other. I’d literally rather get intimate with an angry scorpion up my pussy than have Felix Barclay’s crusty dick come anywhere near me.” I push the eggs aside, no longer hungry. “Can we please change the subject? Quinn, what is going on with you because one minute you and Dade are like some commercial for sexy people everywhere and the next you’re with Remy, who seems to be with Candice? It’s like an episode of love Island but with less STDs.”

“Have you ever even watched Love Island?” Juliette interjects.

I set my features in a way that I hope shows the deep disdain I feel for trite TV. “No. I have brains. Of course I’ve not watched it. It was a figure of speech.”

Juliette sticks her tongue out at me. It’s decidedly pink.

“Dade and I aren’t together owing to the fact he murdered Michael and Lucia, among other things.” Quinn says before Juliette can complain about my lack of love for Love Island. “Remy and I aren’t together because he’s probably fucking Candice as we speak.”

Juliette raises the fork in her hand and points it at Quinn. “Dade didn’t kill anyone and Remy isn’t fucking Candice.”

I elevate my eyebrows at Juliette’s sudden observation skills as Quinn stares at her. I don’t want to be the one to point out that Remy and Candice arrived at the meeting together with serious bed head.

Quinn looks at Juliette hopefully. “How do you know, and… How do you know?”

Juliette shrugs. “Why would Dade kill anyone? I know you know him better than I do, but when you came out of that pool in the second trial, he looked like he wanted nothing more than to get you to his room and fuck you senseless.”

“So? What if he’s a horny murderer?”

It’s sad how desperate she looks. Like she wants him to be innocent.

Juliette shakes her head. “He’s dark and brooding and has that mysterious vibe, but he didn’t kill anyone. Why would he kill Michael and Lucia? If he was going to kill anyone, he’d go for Remy or even Felix.”

“True!” I say, pulling my plate back and breaking the yolk of one of my eggs. “There are four main motives for murder. The four L’s.”

Quinn’s eyebrows arch.

I hold my fingers up and count each motive off. “Lust, love, loathing and loot.” I bring my hand down. “He didn’t lust after Lucia or Michael as far as I’m aware, so there wasn’t a jealously motive. He didn’t loathe either of them either, or at least no more than the rest of us. We all loathed Michael, he was a prick, but he was pathetic enough to ignore. Finally Loot. Dade had nothing to gain from killing them.”

“Except winning the trial,” Juliette says softly, dispelling my theory in four words.

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