Page 52 of The Devil's Waltz

A minute later, my phone buzzes with another message. I sigh.

I’m hanging with Fran and a few others. They want you to come out with us tonight, but I told them you were incognito until further notice.

Blake is the only one who calls Francesca that, and she hates him for it. Which begs the question of why they’re hanging out, but I don’t bother asking. The three of us grew up together in hell before Lucia decided I needed to spend time among humans. Her forcing me to come to earth and attend high school surrounded by them was its own form of hell.

Blake came too, and we didn’t see Francesca for almost five years. When she joined us topside, she told me that my mother had picked her to be my wife.

The whole thing was utterly ridiculous.

Francesca’s father has been part of Lucia’s inner circle for many years. He’s one of the few demons she trusts, and he earned it through decades of loyalty, which extended to his daughter—my betrothed, apparently.

I couldn’t see myself falling in love with Francesca, not that something as trivial as human emotions mattered in that scenario. We were close enough at one point that we’d sleep together when either or both of us were lonely. But her entire attitude toward me shifted once she discovered the power she’d gain if we wed. I’ve been clear from the moment I learned of our supposed engagement that we would never marry, but she refuses to give up, still hoping I’ll change my mind.

Perhaps she’d change her mind if she knew I wanted nothing to do with the throne she so badly craves to sit upon.

Perhaps she could take my place.

I drop onto the couch, shooting a quick response to Blake.

Have fun. Don’t stay out too late.

His response comes in the form of a group selfie at his bar where, if I had to bet, they’ll spend the afternoon drinking before they hit the streets to hunt tonight. While one side of me longs to join them, practically salivates at the thought, the other side is relieved I have an excuse to stay holed up in my apartment.

That said, part of me feels a bit like a prisoner as I lay on my couch, scrolling through my phone until I end up opening the last text conversation I had with Camille. I find myself wondering what she’s doing now. Thinking about what she did when I left her apartment last week.

I groan to the empty room, tossing my phone on the coffee table and covering my eyes with my arm.

How the fuck am I supposed to convince her to betray everyone she loves? And for what?

But if she doesn’t, there won’t be enough hunters to protect her from Lucia’s wrath.

The thought of losing Camille wasn’t an outcome I expected to consider. It certainly wasn’t something I was prepared tofeelsomething over. But I can’t escape the way it squeezes the air out of my lungs, making the walls of my apartment seem so much smaller.

This…thisis what fear must feel like.

SIXTEENCAMILLE

I spend the entire morning conflicted about going to Adrianna’s lake house. At the last minute, I throw clothes and toiletries into a duffle bag, walk out the door, and get into my car. She’s been excited about having everyone at her family’s lake house since the beginning of the semester, and I don’t want to let her down. Plus it’ll be a good distraction and a much needed break from the city.

I’ve been here before in years past, but it’s been awhile, and I always seem to forget how stunning it is. Only a few hours outside of the city, it’s hard to believe something so secluded and peaceful exists, and that it looks so modern. It’s not one of those creepy cabins in the woods out of a horror movie. This place is a multilevel, borderline resort home, with a view of the lake from almost every window.

The front door opens, and Adrianna comes out and jogs over to me, the gravel crunching under her sandals. “Cami,” she shouts with a wide grin, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. “Phoebe told me you were sick, so I wasn’t sure you were coming. I’m so happy you’re here!”

“Me, too.” I hug her back before we break apart. “This place is insane,” I tell her, as if she can’t see that herself.

She laughs. “You say that every time we’re here.”

I shoulder my duffle bag as we walk toward the house. “Yeah, and it’s true every time.” I shake my head at the height of this place now that we’re standing at the base of it.

“Tell you what,” she says, pushing the door open and stepping inside, “you can have the primary suite this weekend.”

My eyes practically bug out of my face as I follow her into the foyer. “Are you serious?”

She shrugs. “Sure. I’ve never stayed in it and I’d rather sleep in my usual room, anyway. It’s all yours.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to give it to Grayson and Phoebe?” I need to shut up. She’s offering me the nicest room in this place, and I’m over here questioning it, basically trying to hand it to someone else.

She arches a brow at me, clearly thinking I’m insane. “Do youwantme to give it to Grayson and Phoebe?”

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