Page 62 of Virgin Sacrifice

Bader Hall was on the southwest side of campus, and I cursed Alister’s choice of location nearly every step of the way. I approached the nondescript brutalist structure, paying careful attention to my surroundings and those around me.

I had to consider that the text might not have been from Alister at all and that this was another attempt by the sheep to get me alone and vulnerable. After the events of the weekend, it was clear that there were multiple people targeting me.

I turned down the path to approach the south doors and found the area conspicuously empty, which only heightened my sense of alarm. If this was a trap, it was a bold one in the daylight. Then again, murdering a woman and cutting out her heart didn’t exactly scream subtle.

Preparing myself for the worst, I gripped my crutches tightly and planted my weight as firmly as I could on one foot, hoping I could stay steady long enough to use one of the crutches as a weapon.

Silence hung heavy in the air as I waited for the telltale crunch of gravel. It never came. I heard the faintest shuffle, but before I could react, a hand wrapped tightly around my shoulder. Spinning around, I swung the opposite crutch out in front of me as hard as I could. The lightweight metal collided with a solid trunk with a satisfying thwack, and the heavy quiet I had been suffocating under was broken by a rough, masculine growl.

Alister rubbed his ribs with one hand where the crutch had connected, while his other remained firmly on my shoulder, tugging me near to him.

“Let go,” I hissed, raising my crutch up to swing at him again. I was in no mood to indulge the twins’ penchant for manhandling me after the week I had just lived through.

He rolled his eyes as he seized my makeshift weapon with his free hand and forced me to lower it to the ground with a firm grip and a dark expression written in his deep blue eyes.

I leveled a fiery stare back at him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I seethed.

Alister’s eyes darted back down to my crutches, his brows wrinkled. “You’re hurt.” Once again, his voice was both deliciously deep and raspy.

“Trou du cul. . .” I muttered. I was supposed to believe this man was some sort of professional killer, and he only just noticed I was walking around with a bum ankle.

If he heard or understood my muttered curse, he didn’t acknowledge it. With a now-pronounced frown on his face, he slipped his phone out of his pocket and typed out something quickly before pocketing it again.

When he looked up, the frown remained, and he studied me with a growing intensity that had me shifting back and forth in place nervously.

“You’re hurt,” he said again in the sort of straitlaced tone that made it clear he expected an explanation.

“And you’re more talkative than usual,” I griped before trying to step out of his hold, only to nearly lose my balance all over again.

Alister scoffed as he caught me before I could fall to the ground, and I found myself hyperaware of the large, warm hand he placed firmly around my waist.

“Umph!” My crutches were violently yanked out from under my arms, and the world suddenly spun around me before I landed, my butt in the air, hanging off Alister’s shoulder.

“Put me down!” I spat out at him as soon as I had caught my breath. It was already too late. The quiet and clearly psychotic Blackwell twin strode toward the door of Bader Hall without a single regard for my furious indignation.

“Putain de merde . . . If you don’t put me down!” I yelled as I began pelting his back with my fists ineffectively. I knew that my efforts were futile, but that didn’t mean I had to make this a comfortable trip for the overbearing jerk.

I continued my farce of an assault as he swung open the wide glass doors that led inside before he made a sharp right, heading down a disconcertingly empty hallway. The current of electricity that ran down my spine was far from unpleasant.

“Alister!” I hissed, a bit softer. Something about the weighty silence of the empty building made me want to lower my own voice.

He said nothing in return, and I started to consider the odds that I might truly be in danger and how I could increase my chances of surviving this encounter.

Alister came to a halt in front of a door before marching us into what appeared to be an empty classroom. In one swift motion he deposited me onto a dusty-looking desk, placing the crutches that I hadn’t even given a second thought to next to me, before spinning around and marching back to the door. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but the ominous clanking of an aging lock gave it away.

He turned away from the door, his eyes sharp and his head cocked as he meticulously inspected me from head to toe. It was both predatory and deliciously sumptuous, this beautifully dangerous man so voraciously consuming me with every beat of his stare.

He began to approach the desk, and I could feel my heart vibrating deeply in my chest. It wasn’t the same as the terror I felt on Halloween night, but adrenaline rushed through me all the same.

“Why am I here?” I said, sweeping off some of the dust that had collected on my shorts with a graceful flick.

He tilted his head farther to the side but didn’t respond.

I huffed, reaching for my crutches. “Fine, if you don’t want to talk, then I don’t even know why I—‍”

“You’re not who you should be,” he said abruptly, setting off alarm bells in my head and stopping me in my tracks.

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