Page 7 of Nothing to Fear (Wicked Games #1)

Asher

T utoring Silas throws a wrench in my plans, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

I had completely forgotten about tutoring him until, much to my disappointment, he showed up.

When I told him to meet me at the archives—the location known only by a few members of the student body—I was positive he would have let it go.

Gone off to do fuck knows what with his rugby twats.

The fact that he showed up proved that, at least for the moment, he was serious about getting his academic shit together.

Studying with him wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

After the initial tension between us, our guards started to come down, even if only momentarily, to pass the time and work together.

I found myself being pulled into his orbit while we sat in the hidden archives.

He’s intriguing, and I was slightly fascinated by the way his voice softened when he dropped the dickhead attitude.

I’m fairly confident it will be short-lived, though. Silas only cares about two things.

Silas and rugby.

Me? The only thing I care about is graduating from Corvus with highest honors and returning to Boston to find a job to help make life a little easier for my family.

I was looking forward to my last year here being a bit of a breeze, but now my easiest course has become my most difficult.

Add in the pressure and responsibility of tutoring the president’s son, and life just got that much harder.

Pushing thoughts of Silas and Professor Thorne out of my head, I pull myself together to head to Fright Night. Parker makes sure we’re at every single one, which I’m okay with. I don’t typically enjoy parties, but Fright Nights are a good excuse for a hookup.

I pull on a pair of black denim jeans, and knowing I need to layer because of this batshit crazy fall weather we’re having, I throw on a thin, tan drawstring hoodie with my jean jacket over it, forcing the fabric hood over the collar of the denim.

I complete the look with my brown leather boots and a few black beaded bracelets.

After spraying some cologne, I find Parker leaning against the kitchen counter, looking down at his phone.

“You ready?” I ask as I approach. Parker looks up at me with an exasperated look.

“Took you long enough, I’ve been out here waiting,” he nags.

“Chill, Dad, I’m right on time. It’s not like we have to drive to get there. It’s around the corner.”

“I’m ready to find out what all the fuss is about. People have been guessing the theme for weeks, especially because we had to RSVP. Who does that?”

It’s definitely upped the anticipation and excitement over going.

“Yeah, whatever it is, it should be a good time. Last week’s was intense.”

Blew my mind, actually.

“They usually are, brother.”

“You lookin’ for a hookup tonight?”

“Of course I’m looking.”

“Wasn’t sure if you were done crawling back to Mia every time you get an itch.”

Parker drops his head back dramatically and lets his body sag while groaning loudly at the name drop.

“She’s gonna be the death of me, she’s seeing Leo, and he doesn’t seem down for sharing.”

“You are?”

“Dude, it’s Mia. Yeah, if she wanted it, I would share. Plus, Leo is hot as hell, which is the problem.”

“He’s worried you’ll be into him and not just her.”

“Bingo. Which, I can’t argue against, ’cause I’d totally fuck him if he was into it.”

Parker has had it down bad for his on-and-off-again hookup, but she seems to be stuck between two men who both want her and can’t commit to either. Who knows if they’ll ever get their shit together, but until something changes, his bedroom door is constantly revolving.

Two Ravens croak from above us as we exit Crimson Keep, causing me to turn and look up.

They perch precariously on the edge of the arch, peering down at me.

The rich hazel of the orbs is visible from where I’m standing, a light blue ring around each iris.

My head cocks to the side as I study them, unmoving, unblinking, before—almost in unison—they croak again, causing me to startle.

Wind bustles around me, a soft breeze that kisses my cheeks and tousles my hair.

“Not haunted my ass,” I mutter under my breath as I turn back to Parker .

“You about done talking to your friends?”

“Shut up, Park. Something just feels off lately. You don’t feel it?”

“Nah. It’s just the time of year. I swear it’s like the school comes alive the closer we get to Halloween.”

He’s right about that. I’ve always been extra sensitive to energy, and something is very unsettling.

And not just because it’s October. It’s sinister in nature and foreboding, an inky darkness slowly moving in over us.

I can’t explain it other than I feel a shift in the air, like the school itself is talking to me.

It started last Friday night and has only continued to get stronger.

But maybe Parker’s right, it’s just the creepiness of the season in a place that’s almost four hundred years old.

I’m on edge as we stand outside of Grimsley Hall, looking up at the larger-than-life Gothic architecture. Tonight’s Fright Night theme, Mad Scientist, is on par with what you’d expect from Grimsley, since they’re all majoring in either sciences, psychology, or sociology.

EDM echoes into the chilly night as we walk up the moss-covered stone steps and push past the faux cobwebs strewn across the entrance.

Parker and I arrive just in time, a senior named Alfie checking us in at the door, handing us a black satin blindfold as he checks off our names on a list. We’re the last ones to enter, and Parker gives me an exaggerated eyeroll.

The ambiance is spooky in the best way. The lights are off, fog machines in every corner, cauldrons overflowing with steam, bubbling with colorful concoctions.

Apothecary jars, skulls, and bones line counters and windowsills.

Everything glows neon green and purple, reminiscent of Ravensmere’s Lights Out, Frights Out party.

We watch Alfie join another senior standing on a table and shouting at everyone to settle down.

“Alright, alright! Shut your mouths and let’s get this going.

You each RSVP’d for this party and for good reason!

Tonight, we’re going to have a little anonymous, dirty party game! Ever heard of a glory hole?”

There’s a collection of gasps and nervous chuckles, and my eyes snap to Parker, who has his fist between his front teeth.

“Did you know?” I ask him under my breath.

“Swear, I didn’t. But I’m not fucking disappointed. A glory hole? Who has this kinda opportunity? I’m not passing it up; I don’t care what happens.”

Jesus. Is this for real? Looks like Grimsley Hall just made everyone’s desire for a hookup tonight that much easier.

“All men will be receivers, sorry ladies, but there’s no easy way to get you off through a glory hole, the anatomy just isn’t made for it.

Men who are down for being givers, we’ll make sure you’re matched with someone who’s cool with that.

Team that gets their partner off the quickest wins.

We call it a competition, but there are no losers in glory hole roulette!

” Alfie laughs deviously before he continues.

“Now that you know the details, if you no longer wish to stay or participate, just come see Sophie and she’ll get you crossed off the list.” A few people step forward around us while Parker and I share a look with a mutual agreement, as long as we don’t get paired together, we’re staying to see how this plays out.

“In honor of the season, though,” Alfie continues, “we’re giving you some extra help to lube things up.

” He lifts a black sheet and tosses it behind him, revealing a large pumpkin, the top cut off, its face carved into a cunning smile.

He dips his hand into the center of the gourd, pulling it back out with a handful of gooey, stringing pumpkin innards.

My mouth falls open slightly. “Givers may use hands and guts, absolutely no mouths or other holes. Now let’s put these pumpkins to good use! ”

“Holy fuck, is this actually happening?”

I give Parker a look of pure shock as my reply, but there’s no chance in hell either one of us is walking away.

We follow Alfie as he leads us through Grimsley Hall in the near-pitch black, the fog and light decorations leading our way.

Hushed whispers can be heard under the music as we watch Alfie type in a code to an interior door, opening it and descending down a narrow staircase into the basement.

EDM still flows around us, my heart rate picking up.

Parker is right. When will there ever be another opportunity to experience something as taboo as a goddamn glory hole?

As we reach the basement of Grimsley Hall, flames flicker wildly in sconces on the walls, and the smell of dirt and decay permeates the air around us.

I guess they weren’t going for aphrodisiac scents and wanted to make it a little challenging for us.

We all filter into the large open space, taking in our new surroundings by the light of the dim flames.

Along the entire length of the wall in front of us are what have to be glory hole booths.

Boxed structures with two doors on opposite sides, and no windows, which look similar to a large photobooth you’d see at a mall.

I watch and wait, leaning against the cold stone wall with my arms crossed over my chest and my legs crossed at my ankles.

Am I really going to walk into one of those with one of the people down here?