Page 82 of The Invite (The Massacre Ball #1)

Nessa

The Massacre Ball is an affair beyond my wildest dreams.

Huge double iron-wrought gates with vines curling around the bars looming ahead beckons sinners and innocents alike to dip their toes into the wickedness waiting inside.

My imagination fell terribly short in picturing its aura and popularity.

The queue to enter is a mile long, stretching to the end of the block. I don’t know how security will handle the crowd from trampling over each other once they start letting them in.

Augustus and I arrived here an hour ago.

Unlike the general crowd, we entered through a private entrance marked as VVIP.

Very, very important people. The brief glimpse of the massacre style set up with blood and gore sent a chill down my spine.

Apparently for this year’s theme, it’s exactly what the name suggests.

Is it another omen for us?

What’s more forbidding than the ball itself is its mysterious founders.

No one knows who they are. If they belong to this town. Or how many of them there are. It shows how much power they have to keep their identities hidden.

Until Augustus and I went inside, I had completely forgotten about the meet and greet that he was participating in and appearing as @thedeviluworship .

We first went to meet the organizer of the meet and greet. I stood in a corner while Augustus chatted with him privately.

Now as I’m watching him switch his mask for a shiny helmet and slide on a tight biker jacket that stretches tight around his biceps, I’m brimming with jealousy and a savage impulse to stake my claim on him.

How dare they worship and fawn over him when he’s my devil?

I own Augustus Grayson.

Every side of him.

Call me crazy but I don’t want to share him and watch from the sidelines. I don’t give a flying fuck that it comes with the territory of being a viral biker.

A red haze appears in my vision and I’m seconds away from acting on the urge when I feel him crowd my personal space, his scent invading my lungs, and tremble as he unties my mask. Only to replace it with the purple helmet.

Tipping the visor up, he meets my confused gaze, and says, “I wouldn’t be a devil without my little demon by my side, would I?”

I feel sucker punched. My heart galloping behind my ribs.

His intention becomes clear, making my head dizzy.

Interlacing our fingers, he leads me from the backstage area into the large circular tent like we’re in a circus, lined with red-and-black booths. Each has a photo stand to take pictures with the fans, rectangular tables displaying cards to sign, and a 3D virtual banner playing their online videos.

The atmosphere is dripping with anticipation. The dark color scheme blends with the anonymity of the bikers and masked men everyone is here to meet.

An undercurrent of tension and wildness pulses in the temperature. It raises goosebumps along my skin. Putting me in a trance. A giddy excitement bubbles inside my stomach. And I haven’t even explored the rest of the rooms, especially the big haunted castle.

I survey the place and notice a few people lingering.

No clue when they’ll start letting the fans inside.

I find Augustus’s booth right away and almost trip after seeing who the one adjacent to his belongs to.

@nightcrawler

A masked Ace stands in all his drool-worthy glory with his ripped torso on display, his eight-pack abs shining, and his signature iron chain curled around his fist. So much sensuality and violence oozes from him.

I feel a fissure of heat upon seeing the end hooked to the collar on a girl kneeling at his feet.

“Looks like Ace found his plaything for the night,” drawls Augustus.

I gulp at those words.

She looks more like his sex slave, especially in the tight cutout dress with a long braid resting between her breasts.

I suppress a shiver when Ace’s blue gaze lands on me, recognizing us instantly. They crinkle in the corners before thinning with broodiness. Approaching our booth just as we enter it, he leans on the table, and quips, “Joining as a couple tonight?”

“That a problem?” says Augustus dryly.

“You’ll be breaking every woman’s heart.”

“I only care about one heart and it belongs to her.” His arms circle my waist, pulling me against his chest. “The woman of my dreams.”

I melt into a puddle.

“Does this mean our days of shooting together are over?”

“It’ll just be me and her.”

“You wound me,” says Ace in mock sadness.

“You’ll survive,” grunts Augustus, dismissing him, “Go annoy the woman in your booth.”

Shooting me a wink, Ace turns and ambles away. I glance away at the same time he pets the kneeling woman. I’m so out of my depth here and the night has barely begun.

All week, I’ve been sitting on pins and needles, waiting for news from either Arjun or Michael.

Four days after my call, I received a vague text from Michael that they were all set and I’d be hearing from them today.

I pray to God they’re ambushing Debolina tonight and their plan worked out.

I don’t think I’ll relax until they tell me she’s been caught and put behind bars.

Augustus’s heat pressing against my back yanks me to the present.

I look up and watch more of the guests arrive and claim their booths. There are two more couples just like us. A super tall man in a full Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley costume takes the stand on the other side of us.

Everywhere I gaze, someone is more mysterious, more dark, and more captivating.

Across the room, two men share a booth. One is dark-skinned while the other is the opposite.

Their tattooed upper body glistening with fake blood while the lower half of their faces are covered in a mask.

A set of long and angry horns popping out of their heads.

They look like savages who found their way out of the woods.

One of them skirts vicious eyes in my direction, trapping me in a web of fear.

My attention—thankfully—is suddenly drawn to the last person to enter.

A single biker chic in a blood-red helmet.

Long and lean legs encased in dark blue denim with knee-high black boots make her hips sway as she confidently struts to her booth, well aware she’s commanding the attention of the entire crowd.

A gloved hand reaches for the zipper of the cropped and fitted black leather jacket to tug it down until her cleavage is bare.

She’s stunning, dripping with sensuality and an air of ‘don’t fuck with me or I’ll bite’.

‘Huntress’ is written at the top of her booth.

To the side, I watch in awe at the video of her that’s playing, where she’s doing a stunt on a sexy sports bike.

In the middle of a tarmac, she drifts the bike around on one wheel.

Smoke billows out around her while the rapt audience forms a circle, recording and cheering.

I’m impressed with how effortless she makes it appear.

Here I am—afraid to simply sit behind one without looking like a fool.

Spinning until I face Augustus, I stab a finger in his chest. “You need to teach me how to ride fast.”

“Planning to give her competition next year?” he teases, jerking his chin toward Huntress’s corner.

“Maybe.”

Hauling me closer with a proprietary grip on my ass, he rasps, “Honey, you already are.” Turning me with my back to his front, his fingers tighten on my waist. “Look around. They can’t keep their eyes off you, wondering how I made you mine.

Wishing they had a chance with you. Once I upload the video of us, they’ll be panting after you. And die thirsting for a taste of you.”

Grinding my ass against his lengthening cock, I confess, “Same goes for your fans tonight, Augustus. None of them touch you or come anywhere near you.”

“Like I’d let them.” His nails dig in painfully, drawing a soft moan from my lips. “I’m only yours to touch.”

***

My devil’s fandom is goddamn ballsy.

So much so that bouncers had to intervene and throw out the few grabby ones. Not because of my possessiveness, but because they were disrespectful of his boundaries and plain rude. I hated how they treated him like a piece of meat. It was disgusting.

Yes, he embodies sex and dark fantasies.

However, that doesn’t give them the right to maul him by trying to leap over the table. I was seething on Augustus’s behalf, ready to charge and put those girls in their places. He noticed and kept me caged against his body.

I’m calm now.

So far, I’ve put his fans in three categories. Dreamers, banshees, and grabbers. Either they are too shy and starry-eyed to talk, while others scream his name at the top of their lungs. The grabbers, though few, are the worst.

Meanwhile next to us, Ace is giving his fans the time of their lives, obliging to their every whim. That includes posing for pictures where he pulls their hair or fake chokes their throat. Some shamelessly bare their breasts for his autograph.

“Oh goodness!” the other girl screeches, ripping my attention away from Ace’s booth. “You guys are dating?”

“Yeah,” I answer for the millionth time. Not at all tired of boasting he’s mine.

“Lucky duck!” sighs her friend in envy while stargazing at a cross-armed Augustus. Her eyes are trained on his thick and flexed biceps. When she glances my way, a telepathic conversation passes between us.

I know, girl. I know.

“How did you meet?” The talkative friend gasps loudly. “Did you slide into his DMs? Give us the deets, girl. I neeeeed a masked man or a biker of my own.”

More like he broke into my house and wore me down with orgasms.

“Also, how sexy is he under that helmet?” demands the other friend.

“Very,” I sigh dreamily.

Augustus’s heat flames my back, his hands molding to my ass as he teasingly says, “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” I hum, fighting not to arch into his touch.

“I’ve never felt more single in my life than I do right now,” forlornly says the girl asking for the tip.

“Me too!” Her friend mirrors the same emotions.

“I heard he’s single,” I say to them, flicking my chin in Ace’s direction. “And looking to date.”

Their expressions perk up at the news.

“For real?” one of them says in disbelief.

“Oh yeah! He’s a friend of ours. My man is taken but he’s on the hunt for a new partner.” Augustus’s grip tightens on my hips in warning. I ignore it as I tell the girls, “He’s going to resist, but don’t take no for an answer.”

“I call dibs!”

“No way! This isn’t just any guy…”

Augustus whips me around while the girls bicker behind us. Tugging me into a corner, he tips my visor up and does the same to his. Those beautiful eyes of his narrow playfully. “Is that payback?”

“Hey! You told me to try getting along with them. I’m just being a friend since he seemed upset about you breaking these girls’ hearts.” Shrugging, I say, “Now, he can help mend them.”

Augustus’s chest rumbles with a low chuckle as he shakes his head. His eyes dance with mischief as he peers at me. “You damn well know he’s going to hate them chasing after him. Those two girls look determined with the false green light you gave them.”

“He should count himself lucky I didn’t tell them his name.”

“You’re hot when you’re vindictive, little prey.”

“Then I should probably tell you how I plotted the demise of the girls who tried to touch you.”

“Fuck!” He groans, yanking me flush. “Don’t dirty talk to me like that when I can’t do anything about it.”

I laugh even as my body sizzles with lust. “You’re crazy.”

“About you.”

Augustus’s face disappears as the tent plunges into darkness. Screams and manly laughter ring out, sending my pulse racing. I reach for Augustus in the dark and gulp in relief when I touch his shoulders, curling my fingers around them.

“What’s happening?” I audibly swallow.

Grabbing my elbow, he guides me toward the table, standing with my back to his front. I blink when bright lights filter in from the head of the room on a stage that wasn’t there before. My gaze widens when I see Ace’s submissive girl crawl to the center with him holding the chain as a leash.

There’s nothing remotely humiliating about the pair. Their synchroneity is strangely erotic.

As they stop, the stage light falls on a wooden cross. Ace pulls the girl up and binds her to the cross with her arms high above her head and the chain around her wrists with precision.

The audience becomes hooked on the scene but I’m on edge, thinking about what’s to happen later tonight.

Rough hands stroking along my thighs, lighting my skin on fire. “Relax, Ness.”

Of course he noticed.

“We should find the others,” I murmur.

“Keep watching,” commands Augustus.

I glance ahead and gulp as I see those two half-naked men climb onto the stage.

Their faces are hidden behind creepy ghost masks as they advance on the bound girl.

Ace is nowhere to be seen. As she gazes at them closing in on her, tension seizes her body.

She’s too far away for me to read her expression.

People around us keep screaming and chanting at the men to tease her.

Take care.

Stab her .

That’s when I see the knives in their hands, and I gasp, “Oh god!”

My entire body trembles wildly. It’s not from excitement. I blink and the girl’s face is replaced by a bruised Johnny’s. As if it’s him and me on the stage, seconds before I’m about to stab him.

Augustus senses my budding panic and I’m turned away from the act.

My palm is sweaty in his as he tugs me out through a secret entrance at the back of our booth. He whips off his helmet and gently removes mine once we’re alone.

“August.” Lingering panic drips from my voice.

Soft lips graze my forehead. “It’s okay, honey.”

I press my face against his pec and inhale his scent as his protective arms wrap around me. I stay glued to him until the memory slips away from my mind.

“Why am I so broken, August?”

Tilting my head back, he asks, “Did you pass out?”

“No.”

“Did you slip away from me?”

I shake my head. In the past, I would’ve done both.

“Then you’re not broken, Nessa,” he softly but firmly says. “You’re getting stronger. On the days you don’t feel that, you lean on me. I’ll be your strength.”

Augustus is both to me.

My strength and my weakness.