Terrorscape (24 page)

She was the paramedic who had saved Val from
drowning one year ago.

Savior.
It all made perfect, horrible sense.
Who is sin?

Chapter Seventeen
Begonia

Val leaned her elbows on the makeshift bar. Alex's
dorm was clean for once, the lights all dimmed, all the
larger furniture pushed against the wall to create the
space for a dance floor. True to Mary's word, there
were fewer people this time around and they all
mingled in cliquish groups.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. Jade wasn't
there. She hadn't expected him to be, but having those
dismal expectations realized only made her feel
worse. Part of her—the stupidly optimistic part—had
hoped to see his cheerful, freckled face.

Well. Not so cheerful. At least, not the last time
she'd seen him. He hadn't contacted her for days and
she had pretty much given up on ever seeing or
hearing from him again.

She had led him on, used him as she herself so
hated to be used. And in all honesty, she didn't regret
it. Being with him had made her forget her troubles.

She twisted the ring on her finger. Inscribed on
the inside were the words
supero omnia
. I surpass
everything. If only that were true. She couldn't even
quash her discomfort.

Part of that was the clothes she was wearing.
Mary refused to let her wear jeans. She had produced
a tight black skirt and a gold lace top, both new and
both conveniently in her size, and then danced off
before Val could question when she'd had the time to
acquire these items.

Val found herself wondering if Mary had gotten
them with a five-finger discount since neither of them
had the money to spend on new clothes. Then Val
wondered if she was a racist for thinking those
thoughts, and whether she would have had them at
all if Mary were white.

Her head ached after the first ten minutes of
thinking this way and at least a half hour had elapsed
since then, and now her stomach and head hurt, and
she felt sick and miserable and tired.

“Hey.”

A boy slipped into the seat beside her. He was
wearing a tight gray shirt and cords. Not slender but
not heavy either. Clearly he worked out a lot. There
was a tribal tattoo wrapped around his bicep and his
lower lip was pierced.

Val didn't even have to look down to know that
he was probably wearing expensive designer canvas
sneakers.
Great
, she thought,
another Alex Clone.

“Yo, Green Eyes. I'm talking to you.”

 

“My name's not Green Eyes,” she said tightly, “it's
Val.”

 

He extended his hand. He had a class ring on but
she couldn't make out the school. “Vance.”

 

Val looked away, leaving him hanging.

“Don't shake?” He rolled his eyes and leaned over
to grab a beer.
Val continued to sip her soda, aware of his eyes
on her. “What are you looking at?”

“Your necklace.”
Her soda can made an audible crumpling sound.

“Do you know what that is? It's a slave collar. It
means you get off on being dominated.”

Val whipped her head around to look at him.
“What?”
“Yup. You see? That's where you attach the lead.”

Her fingers clenched around the silver as he
pointed at the odd ring in the design that had caught
her attention. She set her jaw and looked away. “Very
funny.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

 

“No.” She pulled away from him and nearly fell
off her stool. “I mean, yes. I don't—”

 

“Which is it?” He shot her a cool smile. “It can't
be both at once.”

Val made a frustrated noise and moved to leave.
His hand shot out to grab her wrist before she could
successfully pull away.

“Not so fast, Green Eyes, baby. Did I say you
could leave?”

 

“Get your hands off me.”

“You
wouldn't
want
to
hurt
your
friend's
feelings.” He nodded at the side of the room. “You've
been set up with me.”

She located Mary off in the far corner of the room,
talking with Alex. Watching her. Val gripped her glass
so tightly that it slipped away from her, skidding
across the table. “I'm not interested.”

“Well, what she actually said was that you
needed a friend.” He shrugged. “Same difference.”
“No, they really aren't.”

 

“They are to me. How 'bout you shut that sexy
mouth of yours and dance with me?”

 

“Fuck off.”

“Only if you watch.” He yanked her towards the
dance floor, wrapping his arms around her waist from
behind so he could force her hips to sway to the
heavy beat. “Do you like to watch?”

He's disgusting. Like Gavin, without the charm.

“I know your type,” he said, sliding a hand down
her thigh. “All sugar and spice on the outside, but
inside you're all whips and chains.”

“You don't know me at all,” she said.
“But I want to.”
“No,” said Val.
Mary was beaming from across the room.

“Aw,” he said, following her gaze. “How sweet.
She thinks we like each other.”

“You're an asshole.”
“You're not so bad yourself,” he drawled.
“Let go. The song's over.”
“Come outside with me first.”
“I don't want to.”
“Come on, it'll be fun.”
Like a funeral.

Somebody had decorated the porch with Japanese
lanterns. Not Alex. He was incapable of anything so
tasteful. Maybe they had been hung by Mary.

Vance touched one of the dangling lanterns. “I
haven't seen one of these since I was seven and in
Japan.”

If that was supposed to impress her, it failed.
“What do you want from me?”
“You.”

The single word was as cold as one of the evening
breezes rustling the leaves above their heads. Her
head jerked and her whole body seemed to reflexively
coil like a spring. “Why?”

He cut her off with a kiss, effectively halting any
further questions or protests. His hands slid beneath
her top, and he made a low satisfied sound when he
realized there was no bra to impede his progress. Val
shuddered at the coldness of his fingers, bristling
with outrage, horror, and a bitter wrenching emotion
she could not place and did not care to. She slapped
him—hard.

He rubbed his cheek. “You are so fucking sexy.
My God. What can I say or do to get your sweet little
ass in my bed tonight?”

“Don't ever come near me again.”
“I don't back down from a challenge.”

That sounded like something Gavin would say.
She had to repress a shudder. “it's not a challenge.
I'm
not a challenge. I'm not something that can be won.”

“Anything can be won. Or bought.”

 

She shoved him. “I said no. Leave me the
hell
alone.”

She wasn't daring enough to turn her back on him
and so edged towards the doors. The skin on her arms
and face tingled in response to the warm room as her
eyes scanned the room for her friend. Over the sound
of the song playing Val heard the creak of the doors
behind her and quickly slipped into one of the small
crowds as Vance entered the room.

He hadn't seen her. Was he looking for her? She
watched him settle down at the bar and help himself
to a rum and coke. Within a few minutes, he'd found
another girl to prey on.

She forced a shaky smile and turned to the group
of people now looking at her like she couldn't wait for
her to leave. “Hi…um, I'm looking for my friend.
Have you seen her? Dark skin, black hair, hanging out
with a tall blonde guy?”

Hanging all over a tall blond guy?

 

“Yeah.” The speaker was a girl with badly dyed
hair. “She went into the kitchen a while ago.”
“Careful,” one of the guys remarked cryptically.

 

▪▫▪▫▪▫▪

Mary was sitting on the table in the empty
kitchen with her arms around Alex's neck. The two of
them were making out. Val let out a gasp and moved
to leave just as Mary finally looked her way.

“Val—oh my God, what are you doing here?
Where's Vance?”

 

Alex leaned against the table. “I told you she'd
scare him off.”

 

“Alex!”

 

“I did not scare him off. He's a total asshole.”

Alex rolled his eyes. She looked to Mary instead. “It
was awful. He blackmailed me into dancing with him
and then he…tried to force himself on me outside.”

“He did
what
?”

 

“I think he might have done more if I hadn't
pushed him. He got both hands under my shirt.”

Mary looked at Alex now too. He threw his hands
up defensively. “It's been a while since I've been the
guy. He's probably drunk.”

“He didn't look drunk.”

 

“He's your friend. You should know whether he
turns into, like, a drunken rapist.”

 

“Hey—I barely know the guy. I mean, yeah, he
buys a round occasionally when we play pool.”
“You said he was your friend!”

“Yeah, a drinking
buddy
. Not the same thing. God,
Mary what the fuck is your problem? It's a blind date,
not a goddamn arranged marriage, for fuck's sake.”

“Not for the people arranging it, you jerk! You
didn't even bother talking to him first, did you?”
“I told you, Mare. He's a drinking buddy. Jesus,
what don't you get about that?”

 

Mary shook her head. “I can't believe this. Alex
Crawford, you are an asshole.”

Thank you
.
“Do you want me to kick him out?”
“No, Alex.”
“Do you want me to make a goddamn scene? Is

that it? Pound his ass into the cement?”
“I want you to apologize to Val.”

Alex lost his bluster as if a switch had been
flipped. “Baby, no. I suck at apologies.”

 

Ugh. He even says 'baby'—just like Vance.

 

Mary
remained
unmoved.
“Practice
makes
perfect.”

“This was your idea, in case you'd forgotten. It's
not like I did this on purpose. I mean, there's only so
many single guys I know. And she
liked
Jade. I can't
help it if she's a total ice queen. Maybe you should
apologize to Val,” he added, saying her name like a
curse.

“I'm leaving,” said Val.

Mary shouted something at her departing back.
Val couldn't make it out over the music and she did
not care enough to go back and find out what it was.

As she passed him Vance raised his drink at her
in a silent toast, his new victim at his side.

 

▪▫▪▫▪▫▪

Stupid party.
A shadow passed over the moon.
Stupid Mary.
The buildings receded to faint, shadowy outlines

highlighted in dull silver.
Stupid Vance.

Val shivered. She knew the campus layout well
enough now but suddenly, she felt lost.

 

Stupid Jade.

 

Maybe she should have waited for Mary instead
of walking back alone.

No. No, she wasn't a child. She didn't need
anyone to hold her hand.
Stupid Val.

Too stupid to live?

It started to rain. Gently at first, and then more
intensely. “Fuck,” she hissed. The rain was liquid ice
against her bare arms and back. She began to run,
shedding droplets; the air was cold enough that her
breath formed a shivery cloud of fog. The sound of
her footsteps echoing against the cement was the only
sound apart from the rasp of the leaves and the quiet
hiss of the rain as she hightailed it from Primavera.

Ignoring the wavering shadows distorted by the
falling rain and swirling clouds, Val focused on
getting home.
It's so dark tonight.

Her hand went to her hip and slid against the
pocketless skirt. Mary had the room key. Her own
was missing, lost somewhere inside their apartment
no doubt. Val swore again, slamming her hands
against the door and wishing it was something living
that could transfer some of her pain.

And I still haven't figured out who 'sin' is
.
Val slid forward until her head was pressed
against the wood. “Crap,” she whimpered.

 

“Something wrong, darling?”

Hands closed around her wrists, drawing her
back against a warm, strong body. She didn't have to
look around to know who it was. She recognized him
by his scent, by the fit and feel of him.

“My, my, my—you're shivering.”
He leaned forward.
“And wet.”

Her eyes stared blankly ahead. If his clothing was
dry, that meant he wasn't caught in the downpour.
Had he been waiting for her this entire time?

“Look at you. Dressed to kill.”

“Why
are
you
here?”
His
fingers
tightened
painfully around her wrists and she gasped, “Ow.”
“Why was he touching you?”

“You were at the party.”

“Why was he touching you, Val?” He whirled her
around, caging her in against the door. He kissed her
hard, biting on her lower lip, holding it between his
teeth for a second before lowering his head and
hissing into her ear, “I won't ask again.”

“I didn't let him,” she said weakly. “I didn't want
him to.”
He grabbed her ass through the skirt. She tilted
her head back and he kissed her again, and it
burrowed as deep as death into her blood. He
squeezed
her
again,
his
fingers
brushing
the
underside of her skirt. Needles of sensation prickled
at her inner thigh. “That's not what I asked.”

“You know what he wanted. And you know it's
not my f-fault.” A shiver snaked through her at the
intent look in his eyes. “You're jealous.”

Cold, cruel jealousy. His was a more potent
variant of fiery passion, as hard as marble and frosted
in glittering malice. He stroked the underside of her
breast through the shirt. “So forward. I'm not sure I
like this side of you.”

Val laughed: a bright, piercing sound shimmering
with madness. “Fuck you.”

“Yes, you like that, don't you? Having me on top
of you, inside of you. Having me in total control.” His
grip on her waist strained the fabric, until her breasts
threatened to spill over the neckline of the halter. She
heard his breathing pick up a little. “Well, perhaps
you'll get your wish.”

She was breathing too hard to properly voice her
complaints, though, and the tight, fitting friction of
him scratched an itch, satisfying pangs of desires she
hadn't known she had even possessed until he
commandeered her body for his use.