Page 17 of His Trick

Kill her, sure, but fuck her? Nah.

I couldn’t care less who Xanthy stuck her overly manicured claws into. It was the fact that I saw him fracture. I saw the good boy facade peel back just enough for me to glimpse the darkness underneath.

And it rivaled my own.

I lingered too long, watching. My jaw ached from how hard I clenched it. Every inch of me burned with a curiosity I hadn’t felt in years. He wasn’t my prey, not yet, but he could be. He could be forced into submission, while I dissected what that flash was. He would be mine to break.

I walked away from the room before anyone else noticed me. Stepping out, my boots ground into the dirt, smoke curling out of the cigarette between my teeth, I let the picture of him replayin my head. The twitch of his mouth when he lost control, that second-long flicker of a smile as she struggled to breathe.

Pathetic. Beautiful.

I didn’t know him. Hell, with all the masks and bullshit costumes surrounding us, I wouldn’t have recognized him even if I did. But I was going to. I’d strip that mask off. It was just a matter of whether his face would still be attached when I did.

Boys like him didn’t get to hide forever.

Especially when they were in my playground.

The cigarette burneddown to the filter before I even realized I’d smoked the whole thing. My blood burned with it. The ever-persistent tent in my pants, the kind of dull heat that sat under my ribs like a warning. I flicked the butt into the dirt, crushing it under my boot, and lifted my head to the sound of him.

The man’s laugh carried faintly through the stalks—strained, still wearing that boy-next-door polish like the cheap smiley mask adorning his face. Some random person trailed after him, jittery and giddy, her footsteps light, her voice a syrupy hum. She thought she’d sneak up on him, maybe hoped he was one of the idiots that fucked the participants. She wasn’t aware that this man had never played this game before. Or maybe he had.

What prey have you slaughtered, Sunshine?

It fucked up my head not knowing the answers.

But he did.

Was the little spark of something dark a ruse? Was I imagining it? That little shudder he gave when he lost control.

He felt me there. One monster could sense another, just like a fucking lion knowing when another was in their territory. Now this man was playing my fucking game.

I slipped between the rows of corn, quiet as the soft dust of bone. The maze wasn’t for fun anymore.

It was a cage, and I was shaping the bars.

Every turn I took, I kept close to him, not close enough for him to see me, but close enough that he’d feel it, just like earlier. That prickling under his skin, the certainty that eyes were cutting into his back, bleeding him dry, and watching how he’d respond.

He didn’t belong to my moronic sister. He didn’t truly want to chase her around mumbling stupid growls like the overdone horror films. This man wanted to split her open, maybe have her on her knees and feel the corn suffocate her like a fucking apple in a pig’s mouth.

There’s an idea.

I’d give him time to stew in the mundane. Let him sweat, let him wonder why every shadow felt heavier than it should. I wanted him restless. Wanted him torn between disgust and need when he remembered the way his body almost betrayed him. I wanted him to know I was watching and force him to respond.

I stopped at a clearing, close enough to hear his voice drop low, unsure, feigning awkward charm.

A smile pulled at my mouth under my mask.

He’d cracked once tonight. And now I was going to make sure he broke again, but it would be on his knees, at my fucking feet.

I wanted his submission. I demanded to see what made this man tick. I needed to rip him open and feel his heart beat in my hands. Needed to see if that ghost of a smile turned into a snarl. If those gentle hands that held back so much strength would fight back…I needed to know.

He would break for me. It was just a matter of how much I wanted to play with him first.

“Oh my god! Please tell me you’re one of the ones who fuck by the lantern area?”

The girl’s whiny voice droned over to me, and I watched for the answer, peering through the thick stalks of corn to view my fixation.

The man didn’t speak, just shook his head back and forth. It was funny as hell watching the woman deflate like a pathetic, horny balloon in front of his feet.