Page 88 of Horror and Chill

When night falls, Corwin knocks back whiskey and passes out on the couch. Garron disappears to his room, shutting the door softly. I sit in the dark with nothing but my thoughts. Just the front door in front of me. The silence hums. I can almost hear her boots on the porch, her voice swearing at us before she pushes inside like she owns it.

Then the thought hits:she doesn’t know where we live.My smile curves slowly. That means she’ll have to lure us out again, or she’ll have to text and ask to see us.

If it’s the first, we’ll chase. If it’s the second, I’ll keep it to myself, let it be my surprise for my brothers.

I can’t wait to see which one she chooses.

37

Agatha

I didn’t sleeplast night. Every time I closed my eyes, it was them. The trio. The way they touch me, tear me down, make me feel alive. I keep telling myself I’m fucked up for missing it. For wanting it again. I grip the wheel tighter until my hands hurt, like that’ll stop the thought from circling. It doesn’t.

Behind the Lens rises up in front of me, porch wide like a lodge, bottom half pretending to be cozy. Then the top story hits sharp with black siding, all menace. The whole thing is too big, too much.

I kill the engine and get out before I can talk myself into leaving.

Inside, Nova’s waiting at reception, leaning on the counter like she’s on the cover of a magazine. Hair spilling over her shoulders, leather jacket, floral corset peeking out, green eyes sharp as glass.

“Well, well. Look what the slasher dragged in,” she says.

I snort. “You look like you got airbrushed in your sleep. Don’t start.”

“Baby, I always look airbrushed.” She winks. “Who’s got you today?”

“Chad.”

Her grin spreads. “Golden boy. Is it your calendar spread?”

“Sure is. And I let him surprise me with some of it, so pray for me.”

“Am I praying to a certain villain or just Satan himself?” she snarks.

I roll my eyes and move toward the stairs, boots thumping as I head up to the room Chad texted me he had reserved.

When I find the correct room, the door is cracked. I push it open further and step inside. He’s leaning on the bedframe, shirt half open, tie hanging loose, blond hair a mess. He smiles big, his pearly whites on display when he sees me.

“Agatha.” He pulls me into a hug, smelling like laundry soap and expensive cologne. “Got the costume?”

I lift the bag. “Always.”

“Good. Change, and I’ll show you the setup.”

I don’t bother with the bathroom. He’s seen it all. Clothes come off quickly; t-shirt tossed, leggings kicked off. Then I get dressed; fishnets stretch over my legs, black bra, matching panties. The pink Pleaser strap is tall enough that I have to balance against the chair for a second before I’m steady. A boa, pale pink and fluffy, drapes around my shoulders, soft against my bare skin. Last is the rhinestoned Ghostface mask, glitter catching in the dim light when I pull it over my face.

I turn around and actually take in the room.

It’s not a bedroom anymore. It’s draped in roses and dark greenery. A wicker chair with black pillows waits in the corner. Fur rugs sprawl across the floor, candles flickering. Animal skulls tucked here and there around the chair and rug. An old-school house phone on the ground, cord curled, and a knife beside it.

Chad grins and hands me the phone’s receiver. “Start on your knees. Knife in the other hand. Look up like you already know he’s there.”

I kneel, boa brushing my shoulders, toes sinking into the fur.

“Who is he?” I ask. “You said to trust you, but…”

A knock interrupts me.

Kylo fills the doorway. Broad chest, shirt nowhere in sight, ink crawling over both arms and down his ribs. His beard is thick, hair messy like he doesn’t give a shit. Dark jeans hang low on his hips, and his own Ghostface mask dangles from his fingers.