Page 43 of Her Wicked Knights (Their Hallowed Queen #3)

Whit runs his mouth every minute, and more people join us, drawing out of the shadows, dressed identically to him. At first I think we're surrounded by mirrors that are just throwing his reflection back at me, but then I realize they're actual people.

"Who the fuck are they?" I demand.

"Disciples." Whit shrugs. "Don't worry about them. They're here to strengthen the connection, to deepen the bond to the hallowed ground we're standing upon, to pull her magic to the surface."

I run my eyes over the crowd of strangers, suddenly uncomfortable by the fact that I'm about to commit murder in front of them. I don't know who's hiding beneath those masks; for all I know, it could be Marley and Audrey.

"Hallowed ground?"

"This park." Whit nods. "It was built on our ashes."

When I only stare at him through the holes of the neon mask, he chuckles. "Our first lives. That memory we saw of the fire. This is where Margeaux was murdered... where all our fates were sealed."

"Margeaux?"

"Well, she wasn't Marley back then." Whit laughs again.

"And you weren't Colton. Of course, history tried to erase her.

.. to bury everything in shame so they could pretend there was never a witch hunt here.

They claim the fire that ravaged our town was started by a boiler explosion in the pottery factory.

There's a tribute set up, actually, in the house of oddities near the back of the park.

Every man and woman who burned that night is listed. .. all except hers."

I didn't realize there was a list of names there; the house of oddities has never intrigued me, so I've never stopped in. But now, I'm curious.

"Historians have a way of selectively recording the things they want. But if you know where to look for the right things, the whole past of the world can open to you. And by knowing the past, you can know the future, since history also has a way of repeating itself."

I don't say anything, fixing my eyes instead on the screen that shows the start of the haunted house.

I've seen Whit do things that aren't humanly possible. I've seen the past life he speaks about. I've witnessed him slink inside of my mind and get a death grip on my brain, effectively shutting it off so that when he released me from his hold, I had no idea what the fuck he did to me.

And yet, I don't know how much I believe all of this.

Audrey's face comes across the screen on the wall, and I feel myself pulled back to the moment, to the grim reality of what we're doing.

As I watch, Carson slides his hand beneath her top, gripping her breast. They've stopped walking, and she closes her eyes for just a second before her mouth curves in a sinister grin.

"Stop making me horny when I'm about to commit murder."

I nearly snort.

"I wanna fuck you so bad." Carson pants as Nick steps up behind my girlfriend, his hands on her hips. "One last time."

One last time.

I bristle, worried that Audrey will catch onto his meaning and realize we're coming for her and not the girl she set up.

But of course, Audrey doesn't even pay attention to what he just said. She pushes Carson off of her, smirking when he stumbles. "So then fuck me. But wait until her blood is dripping around us and we have our power."

I've pushed the limits with Audrey, tested boundaries...

But hearing her tell Carson to fuck her with her best friend's blood dripping around them? That's a new low for her, and I didn't think she could sink any lower.

I grind my jaw together, resisting the urge to go out there and strangle her myself. I don't need to be filmed committing murder.

This haunted house was truly the perfect place for this, given that everything is recorded up 'til the last room, where we stand watching and waiting. We're going to manipulate the footage, of course, just the way that Whit manipulated the footage that serves as an alibi for me and Mark.

He and Marley are lagging behind, and I'd much rather watch them... her.

It takes a minute before she appears on the screen. She looks like she's on edge, anxious about what's to come. She doesn't notice Jake creeping up behind her in the melted-face mask of Freddy Krueger, until Mark points for her to turn around, laughing.

Jake advances on her, slipping a blade into the waistband of her jeans, and that snaps Mark out of it.

He wrenches Marley away, glaring at Jake in disgust. For once, I think I agree with him.

We should be killing Jake tonight, too. He's just as guilty of every awful thing Audrey has done, but Whit won't allow it.

The mayor's son will draw too much attention.

But if we keep him alive, if he's complicit, then he has as much to lose as the rest of us.

I watch Marley lean toward Mark, watch her trust him, watch her let him lead her to the coffin prop in the graveyard.

And then I can watch nothing else, because Audrey joins us, rushing to grab her costume. She doesn't acknowledge the rest of us as we slowly close them in, as Carson dons his clown costume and Nick moves in on her other side with a blade in his hand.

When Audrey does pick up a knife, she runs a finger down the blade, testing it with a smirk.

"The world belongs to those who take what they want." She turns to get a glance at Whit, who nods at her, gently encouraging her to believe that she's safe.

That's one thing Audrey and I agree on. The world doesn't give you things just because you're breathing and existing; you have to take the things you want.

Problem for Audrey is, she has no loyalty.

You don't take what you want if it's going to harm someone you're supposed to care about.

Sure, I can excuse stalking Marley, watching her, obsessing over her, touching her in her sleep.

But none of those things have ever been done with the intent to hurt her, unlike the barbs Audrey so frequently drops.

And plotting to murder her best friend so that she can have the magic that bleeds from Marley's veins?

That's fucking vicious. For that reason alone, I am able to suspend my conscience, to stop looking at her as an insecure, petulant child who resulted to manipulation because she didn't understand how to make genuine connections with people.

Audrey catches a glimpse of Carson as he straightens, the clown mask in his right hand, and I watch her lips move, but I don't hear what she says.

The blood is rushing too fast in my ears, thundering over everything else.

But I see her kiss him like she's done it a dozen times before, and I don't doubt she has.

The thing is, Carson's just like Audrey. He's not loyal, and she doesn't mean anything to him.

When he yanks her hair in his fist and her mouth opens in a gasp, she looks at him with unmistakable lust in her eyes, like she's expecting this to go somewhere very different from the reality of what's about to happen.

When he uses his grip on her to whip her around and force her to her knees, she gasps, shock and excitement twining together as she waits for whatever Carson's going to give her.

I knew she was this way with me, but I somehow always assumed that everyone else she hooked up with was more like her relationship with Jake, where she called the shots, did the seducing.

I don't love Audrey; I'm not sure I ever even liked her.

But there's a small part of me—a very small part—that recoils as Carson drags a blade across her throat, spilling her blood upon the floor and sending her falling flat on the ground in shock, clutching at her throat to try and stop the bleeding.

Nick moves in behind her, pressing a boot flat on her back and pinning her down so that when he stabs her in the middle of her back, she falls to the ground again, a strange sort of scream clawing through her severed throat.

Whit pushes Jake forward as Nick pulls his knife out of Audrey's back. With the mask on, I can't see Jake's face, but I notice the way his hand trembles around the blade. Kind of funny, since he's killed more than anyone else here.

He's as pathetic as he's always proven to be, stabbing her slowly in the shoulder, looking away as he drives the blade into the fleshy part.

"Fucking hell!" Carson laughs. "We gotta hurry this up, boys! Our girl Marley's a natural born porn star."

Nick laughs. "She's already coming on Mark's fingers like the little whore we knew she was."

I snap my attention to the TV, where I can see that they're telling the truth.

Marley's on her back, legs spread, with Mark finger-fucking her through a screaming orgasm.

They're also right about her coming like a porn star.

She comes apart with reckless abandon, her screaming creating a symphony that clashes with Audrey's.

I want to break Mark's fucking hand for daring to touch her, for daring to do it where the rest of them could see it in every glorious and excruciating detail, for having a part of her she's never willingly given me.

Whit moves in and kicks Audrey over with the toe of his boot.

I cringe away when she rolls around to face him, her fair skin covered in blood as he takes a moment to look down at her one last time.

And then Whit descends.

He's a flurry of motion, the sleeves of his robe flying wildly around as he lifts his arm and delivers a series of stabs, frenzied jabs over and over again that don't cease even as she pleads, screams, chokes on blood.

I didn't expect to be horrified, but I am.

I thought that I didn't feel anything for Audrey, and I don't, so that would mean I would feel no remorse with her death. But watching Whit turn into an absolute maniac as he seems to go for overkill, I feel... overwhelmed.

"They're heading this way." Nick warns, slipping the porcelain mask in place over his face.

I turn, scanning the room to see who's assembled.

Tripp and Rev are standing just a few feet behind me, their faces obscured by their masks, but I don't doubt they're as shocked as me. Maybe even more so.

The last killing had been a little more ritualistic.

This one feels like it's somehow personal.

I have to wonder if Audrey was hooking up with Whit too, if she slighted him somehow and this is his chance at revenge.

He doesn't even seem to remember that he's been telling us we all have to participate in killing her, and I'm not going to remind him.

When he finally steps away from her body, I'm pretty sure she's exactly that. A body, nothing more. Her eyes are vacant, and no sounds come from her.

Whit's 'disciples' form an open ring around the shadows at the back of the theater, watching from a distance as he takes another step back, appraising his work.

Whit's frenzy left Audrey covered in blood; I can't even see the source of all of it, and I assume it's just a series of stab wounds.

The little bit of clothing she was wearing has been shredded, and her breasts are exposed, one leg twisted at an awkward angle, her head back in an awkward arrangement.

It's far more brutal than anything I expected, and as he lifts his hands in the air and her body rises, it showcases the damage he brought upon her.

Blood drips still from her body as he pushes her toward the rafters over the stage, rotating her so she looks like a marionette, just waiting for someone to come along and pull the right strings to put on an act that she's alive.

Audrey liked to believe herself a puppet master, capable of pulling people's strings to get the right reaction. But she met her match with Whit. He's the true puppet master, and he turned Audrey into one of his things.

Maybe I should have seen it sooner. But it doesn't change anything. She was still doing things that hurt people, still killing people, still perfectly fine with her best friend's murder.

Whit closes his eyes, and for just a moment, I think he's mourning.

But then I watch Audrey's nipples stretch toward the ground, pulling them taut in a grotesque way.

It takes me a moment to realize what he's doing, and another moment to realize why.

But as the little metal jewelry rips free of their piercings, and Audrey's nipple rings clatter to the floor, I realize he's just a fucking psychopath.

A psychopath with power that's only about to grow stronger, because the light goes out, a warning that they're here.

A moment later, Mark leads Marley into the room.