Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
“You’ve gotta get out of there!”
This three-way phone call definitely wasn’t going well. Twenty minutes in, and all there had been was copious amounts of yelling.
“No, I can’t,” I declared for the umpteenth time. “There may only be ten feet separating our respected living quarters, but Blaine still can’t come into my house. Dr. Madsen’s right. We need to take advantage of this.”
Reese growled something inaudible on the other end of the call.
With nowhere else to go, I returned to my aunt’s place and locked myself in the safety of my bedroom. Though, I really didn’t have much of a choice in the matter either way. Because of Blaine’s little trick, it wasn’t like I could return to the coffee shop with a head full of spontaneous blonde hair. I had no choice but to ditch Hannah and Sam. They’d asked what happened, but I continued to ignore the texts until I came up with a plausible excuse. And as far as that bastard next door was concerned, so long as the window shades were drawn closed, this would remain as the only true safe haven I’d have.
“Hey, I don’t like this anymore than you do. In fact, I hate it. But the doctor has a point,” I said. “Blaine might have some intel we could use. He literally had truck-fulls of stuff delivered to his place. There’s gotta be something in all those boxes that could help me. A codex, a spell book, something. Anything.”
“Precisely,” affirmed Dr. Madsen. “Mr. Ryder learned how to cast the mating hex from somewhere, and I haven’t been able to uncover this particular interpretation yet. If his version is logged like any other ritual, then the documented form will also contain the invocation to reverse it.”
“I can drive down there and go check out the bastard’s place,” Reese interjected. “Kat needs to get the hell away from him though, while she still can.”
“And what if Blaine just packs up and continues chasing me?” I asked. “We’ll still have nothing, and I’ll be on the run again—with nowhere to go. We need a plan on how to handle this, and we can’t spook Blaine in the meantime. If he catches wind of you in town, there’s no knowing what he’ll do. I’m not gonna risk having him set his demonic cronies out on another murderous rampage.”
“Also, if Ms. Montgomery can break the mating bond, then we won’t have to hunt Mr. Ryder down. As she mentioned, he’s right next door. We can take him out the very moment after we sever their connection,” added Dr. Madsen.
“Well, I’m clearly outnumbered here,” Reese huffed. “So, what do we do?”
“The moment I find an opening, I’m gonna sneak into his place and take a look around. If I come across anything, I’ll let you guys know,” I said, scratching my head. “I gotta get going. This stuff’s burning my scalp.”
I hung up and immediately hopped into the shower, rinsing out my newly purchased hair dye. As far as I knew, Reapers were still out there looking to kill me, so I needed to keep up my lame attempt at a disguise—no matter how much I may have hated the hair color.
And it only pissed me off further that Blaine knew it, too. If he was capable of knowing something as offhanded as my vanity, how easy would it be for him to figure out something big, like our recently hatched plan?
I finished washing up, wrapping my re-dyed brown locks into a makeshift towel turban to help wick the moisture out of it. I headed back to my room to slip on my pajamas when something caught my eye. At the end of my bed sat a smooth black and white apparel box adorned with red silk ribbons that tied into an elegant bow on the top.
Tucked beneath the bound ribbon was a simple white envelope with a single word written on the card inside.
I bolted for the hallway, almost tripping over my own feet as I raced downstairs. “Jenna?”
I found my aunt sitting on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate cradled in her hands. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Did someone drop something off for me when I was in the shower?”
Her brows knitted together. “No.”
“Did you invite Bl… I mean…anyone into the house? Even Sam or Hanna?”
She shook her head. “Why?”
This made no sense…
Jenna took a closer look at me. “Did you dye your hair?”
“Uh…yeah.” How did she know? I made sure to crack the bathroom window when I did it as to not let the chemicals permeate the house, and it was the exact same color it had been since before I moved here.
My aunt nodded to the side of my face, where a single loose tendril of hair had escaped from my towel wrap.
I froze.
Son of a b…!
Racing back up to my room, I tore the towel from my head in front of the vanity mirror.
Son. Of. A. Bitch!
There in front of me rested frosted blonde hair, again!
It had literally been BROWN not ten minutes ago, yet the color had…what? Up and vanished?
What the hell did Blaine do?
Whatever it was, it was still the least of my concerns. How did this box get into my room? Blaine wasn’t allowed to enter, and Jenna hadn’t let anyone in.
I stared at the one-word note, feeling vibrations raking across the top of my arm. A sharp, pale-blue light exploded from the ignited rune, overpowering even the strength of my lamp.
Was he serious?
Could he really be that delusional?
I fisted the note up into my palm, slamming the crumpled wad into the trash can beside my desk.
“Everything okay over there?”
My entire spine stiffened.
Blaine’s voice.
It was in my head! I’d forgotten he could do that. Storming over to my side window, I yanked up the shade to see Blaine standing in the opposing view, one brow crooked at me. He nodded down to where the very same rune I had ignited was glowing faintly on his own arm. And to my disappointment, his other arm appeared to have already healed from the knife I’d inadvertently stabbed in his bicep.
Grabbing the unopened box, I yanked the window open and flung it outside, letting it smack against the siding of his house.
“Was that really necessary?”
Slamming my window back down, I gave him a smooth, unladylike gesture before yanking the shade and curtains over the locked glass.
***
There was one thing I hadn’t taken into account. Sure, Blaine couldn’t enter my home, but that also meant that I couldn’t enter his. Without receiving an invitation first, there was no way I’d be able to sneak into his place when he wasn’t around. I spent the next ten hours with my eyes peeled open, terrified by the prospect of falling asleep. Between my all-too-real-feeling nightmares and the unsolved mystery of how that blasted box made its way into my bedroom, I refused to doze off. But at least it gave me plenty of time to think this through…
As I stood on the porch come six o’clock the following morning, I was immediately regretting my decision. This was a horrible idea!
Footsteps trotted up as I proceeded to bang on the front door again. I know, I know. I was totally nuts for considering this, but I was desperate.
Sure enough, Blaine opened the door, his face immediately lighting up with pleasant surprise to find me waiting on his porch. “Hey, stranger.”
I took the crumpled wad of paper I’d pulled from my trash can and chucked it at him. “What the hell is this?”
He caught it after it smacked his chest, and he unfolded the note. “Uh…it’s called paper, the last time I checked.”
“I meant what’s written on it.”
“Can you not read?” His teasing smile only made me want to hit him more.
“‘Bygones?’ Seriously?”
“What? I was merely hoping we could make amends. You know: fresh start, clean slate, new beginnings. All that jazz.”
“You seriously think I’d ever forgive you after what you’ve done? You murdered people!” I roared, intentionally catching the attention of Mrs. Rutledge as she came out to grab her morning paper.
A guilty smile tugged at Blaine’s lips as he gave a polite wave to our neighbor, who rightly eyed him back with misgiving. “I doubt I’ll be receiving an invitation for tea in the near future,” he muttered under his breath with a laugh.
Obviously not wanting to carry on with this conversation in front of prying eyes, he stepped back from the door and gestured me inside. Yahtzee! It wasn’t a verbal invitation, but the silent indication seemed to suffice, because I met no resistance as I regrettably crossed over the threshold.
When thinking of super villain evil lairs, one might picture the Death Star, or Dracula’s Castle, or perhaps the Hall of Doom. Not a traditionally styled two-story colonial abode with a cozy fire alit inside the hearth. Yet, there I was, standing in the foyer of a house as quaint and inviting as my aunt’s. Oh, how deceptive appearances can be…
“Breakfast?”
I startled, returning my attention to Blaine only to find him far too close for comfort. “What?”
“Would you like breakfast?” he reiterated, closing the door behind him.
“No,” I snapped, retreating back as he came onward.
“You sure?” He cocked a brow at me. “You haven’t eaten in a while. And as they say, it’s the most important meal of the day.”
I glowered at him. Again, he was right. Because of my manic anxiety, eating wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities yesterday, resulting in me skipping dinner. “How would you know the last time I ate? Were you spying, or just molesting my mind again?”
Blaine simpered, but it lacked any real amusement. “I can hear your stomach from here.”
“Oh…”
He didn’t wait for my rebuttal, striding off down the hall towards the back of the house. I’d gotten the invitation I needed, so I could’ve just left. But this did give me a chance to poke around a little, get a general layout of the place. And maybe with any luck, I could get some answers.
The hallway leading back into the kitchen gave me a full view of the downstairs. The house was fully furnished, every room simple, yet elegant. No clutter, no paperwork, not even a piece of mail lay out in the open. Unless he had spell books shoved under the couch cushions, it was safe to assume Blaine had any of the real goods tucked away upstairs. Yippee…
When I entered the kitchen, Blaine already had a place setting for me at the table with a glass of orange juice, a napkin, and silverware prepared. He pulled the seat out for me, and I begrudgingly plopped myself down in it as Blaine returned to the stove to dish up what appeared to be eggs. There were little green leaves sprinkled in it, along with brownish onions, small clumps of pale cheese, and a strange dash of red powder.
“What is it?” I asked, getting an up-close view as he slid the plate in front of me.
“Scrambled eggs with caramelized onions and chèvre. It’s quite good, I assure you.”
“I didn’t know you could cook.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
That I didn’t doubt. But I also had no interest in learning more.
Blaine planted himself in the seat across the way a moment later. Unfortunately, the table was small, so I only had about two feet of separation set between him and me. “So, how’s your mission coming along?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, the one to rid yourself of our bond?” Blaine emphasized the last word with particular mirth, making my insides turn cold.
What the…?
He looked at me over the brim of his coffee mug, obviously waiting for me to answer. When it was made clear I wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Unlike natural magic,” he said, tapping the rune on top of his hand, “wiccan spell casting leaves a trace. It’s like catnip to demonic creatures. That’s why people find themselves sometimes haunted after playing with Ouija Boards and whatnot. And you, my dear, are practically glowing in it.”
This whole time I’d been doing everything magically possible to make sure he stayed away, and it had only led him right to my front door. “Is…is that how you found me?”
“No, our bond did that,” he said, so matter-of-factly.
I couldn’t believe this. Blaine knew…everything.
Despite my stomach’s desperate plea for food, I set the fork aside.
“Something wrong?” Blaine took notice of me evidently scoping the food and drink with suspicion. He sighed. “I’d have nothing to gain by poisoning you. You know this better than anyone.”
“I’m more wary of being drugged,” I growled. “Thank you.”
“I meant what I said yesterday. I want you to want this. I have no interest in stealing you away.”
“Well, you’re never going to get what you want, so how about we make a deal?”
He smiled back with evident amusement. “A deal?”
“Release me from this…bond, or whatever you want to call it,” I scoffed, gesturing to the mating rune on my ring finger, “and leave town.”
“A deal’s a two-way street, love.”
“There’s an entire pack of Reapers dying to get their hands on you. If you break the bond, I won’t report you to them.”
“You won’t do that anyway. As long as our lives are linked, you’re not going to give me over to people who are guaranteed to kill me.”
“I’m going to find a way out of this curse, whether you help me or not,” I jeered. “Consider this a preemptive offer.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he said smoothly, stabbing a healthy slice of egg.
“Why? What do you want from me? You could’ve chosen anyone to be your stupid ‘mate’! Why did it have to be me?”
He leaned back in his seat, seeming to consider the thought. “And who should I have chosen?”
“You’re a psychotic murderer with the face of an angel. If serial killers can get fan mail from adoring women, I trust you’ll have no problem finding someone as demented as you are to replace me.”
“Is the thought of being with me truly that repulsive?”
“You don’t want me to answer that.”
The muscles in his jaw tensed, muzzling an expression that flickered only for an instant across his eyes. The faint scent of rose pedals lingered in its wake, and I had no idea what that implied. But it seemed safe to assume he was displeased, to say the least.
And just like that, it vanished, bringing a sardonic twist to his lips. “So, you think I have ‘the face of an angel’?”
Now I was the one scowling, or at least, more than I already had been. “You never answered my question. What do you want from me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you just so you can unleash your wrath on mankind,” I scoffed.
He actually laughed. “Come again?”
“I’m not stupid. You want to throw the world into death and destruction, bringing about the apocalypse! And I know I’m the key to getting your satanic powers topside. You and your so-called ‘mate’ have to consummate your relationship in order to break the remaining seal trapping your powers in Hell.”
Blaine smirked. “And who told you this?”
“I read it.”
“Where?”
“It was in one of the old journals Reese’s father left behind.”
“And who might Blackburn’s father be?”
“A Light Mage.” At least, I was pretty sure…
“His name?”
“I…I don’t know. He abandoned Reese when he was still a baby. I never met the man.”
“So you’d take the word of a total stranger as gospel rather than hear me out?” He chuckled to himself, leaning back with a sigh. “Tell me, if this random person wrote that Chihuahuas had laser beams in their eyes and were secretly plotting world domination, would you believe that, too?”
I shot him a dirty look.
“Well, I have to ask, seeing as how it seems you’ll believe anything.”
Bastard.
“Okay, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” I jabbed, “Enlighten me. What’s your ‘true’ objective?”
“I think I’ve made myself pretty clear as to my intentions regarding you. As for the rest, I suspect you’ll discover that soon enough.” His vibrant, icy eyes took in the sight of me, making my fingers curl into my palms as he surveyed me intently. “You look well.”
“Better than when you first bit me,” I countered.
“You’re welcome.”
At first, I couldn’t figure out why my jaw wasn’t in my lap, because I gawked at him, openmouthed and dumbfounded, in utter disbelief. He…he was serious. That bastard honestly thought what he had done to me was a favor—a favor!
Before my brain could catch up to my actions, I snatched up my fork and hurled it at him. Despite my hopes that the prongs would stab him, the utensil sadly hit him vertically, making it bounce off his beaten shoulder.
“Owww,” he remarked flatly, setting down his coffee mug.
I was on my feet in an instant, my hands suddenly clasped on the front of his shirt. I hauled him right up out of his seat, slamming Blaine into the wall behind him so hard the nearby hanging picture frames rattled from the impact. “You made my life a living hell!”
“I saved your life.”
I yanked him off the wall, only to hammer him back into it. Harder. “I lost my family because of you!”
His cool demeanor slipped away, replaced by antipathy. “They weren’t your family.”
“Those people raised me! Whether they were my biological parents or not, it doesn’t change that!”
“Anyone who abandons their child has no right to call themselves a parent. They were chickenshit, just like mine.”
Unadulterated rage boiled my blood, and I awaited the sweet release of my runes igniting. I didn’t want to slam him into the wall. I wanted to put him through the wall.
The faintest hum tickled the skin over my forearm, but died out just as quickly. My fists only balled up tighter into the fabric of Blaine’s shirt. Why weren’t they igniting?
“Sorry, love, but I’d rather prefer you not try to break every bone in my body.”
Just as he’d done on the night he’d bitten me, Blaine managed to turn off the use of my runes with a mere touch.
“I hate you.”
His eyes locked with mine, merciless, as he said so softly, “No you don’t.”
“I HATE YOU.”
His fingers were suddenly wrapped around my wrists. With next to no effort, Blaine pulled my hands away, holding them down at my sides. Panic hit me like a raging river. Wave upon agonizing wave crashed against every cell in my body, begging me to break free, to run out. But I couldn’t move.
One moment, I had him pinned against the wall. The next, Blaine was guiding me backward until my hip met the kitchen table. I was trapped under his hold.
“You don’t hate me.”
“You really are psychotic if you actually believe that,” I seethed.
“It’s not what I believe; it’s what I’ve seen.” His voice only lowered as he moved in closer. “The night of your Rite, when you came to visit me in the basement of the compound…”
My whole body shuddered at the very thought, and he was too close to not feel it.
“As much as you wanted to hate me, as much as you told yourself you’d be happy to see me tortured by Reynolds’s men, you were repulsed at the sight of what they’d done to me. Deep down, you knew I was still the man you first met. You cared about him. I still am that man.”
“He was never real,” I growled. “You’re a sociopath. You even admitted to it after Daniel kidnapped me!”
“That was for the benefit of our audience, not you.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning I have a reputation to uphold. Cruelty is the only thing that drives fear in people like Mr. Reynolds, or Daniel, or my bosses. For appearances’ sake, I have to be malicious—”
“And you’re not?” I scoffed.
His gaze hardened. “When have I ever been cruel to you?”
“You bit me!”
“To protect you the only way I could.”
“You kissed me. You knew I was disgusted by you, and still, you had your hands all over my body!”
“Is that right?” He closed the distance further. “You were disgusted?”
To my horror, he knelt down. As if plucked right out of one of my worst nightmares, Blaine grinded his hips into mine, leaning in until no space was left between us. His mouth was so close, the warmth of his breath stirred against my own lips.
I stood paralyzed, anticipating the horrible moment when his lips would meet mine.
Instead, he whispered, “Am I giving the impression I want to kiss you?”
His hands loosened their hold on me, gently grazing over the skin on my wrists. Images crashed back into my mind, almost knocking me backward as I startled. The old weightlifting room. When I’d been handcuffed to one of the pull-up bars. The night Blaine had bitten me.
I had nowhere else to go, no other plan to get out of there. It was just him and me. Alone. I knew I needed to earn Blaine’s trust to get me out of my restraints. He had kissed me first, but…I was the one who leaned into him, who grinded my hips against his, who made him think I wanted him…
As if the air was punched from my lungs, I finally exhaled, my vision snapping back into focus. “What?”
He patiently repeated the question, and the tremble coursing through my entire body served as answer enough. His hands slipped from my wrists before he stepped back. “Now you know how it feels.”
I was literally shaking.
Is that why he was here? To torment me? All because I lied about wanting to be with him? He’d sent his goon of Hellhounds to murder our fellow classmates. Had that bus of students attacked. He’d held me captive. He was clearly insane. Being honest with him hadn’t exactly seemed like the best idea at the time…
“You should probably eat a little something before we leave,” he offered.
“We?” I managed to utter.
“It’s Monday morning. And in America, that means that we’re required to attend high school,” Blaine affirmed, flashing me a set of papers he pulled out of his back pocket. “It’s my first day.”
My eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”