Page 47 of Kissing the Villain

“You can run, Alex,” a man taunted. “But you can’t hide. We will always find you.”

Not unless the darkness finds me first.

The soles of my shoes burned as I bolted down a back alleyway, headed toward The River Styx. But when I reached the rundown bar, my feet stuck to the ground. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t take another step. Stretching out my fingers, I reached for the door. The handle was right there, just a few more inches.

So why couldn’t I touch it?

I heard loud breathing behind me, and a shiver rolled down my back. The hair on my arms and neck stood at attention. As I turned my head to the side, fear rocked me when my eyes landed on four tall men with broad shoulders. My mouth dropped in horror at the paint on their faces, one half covered in snakeskin. The tallest of the group had golden scales branding his tanned skin. He looked like a copperhead snake, poisonous and deadly.

All of them had tattoos on their necks and hands. They wore black hoodies and fitted jeans, the right side of their faces obscured by the paint. A man with white-blond hair raised his tattooed hand to his jaw. He painted his pale skin yellow with white chevrons like a king cobra.

The man on his left had the greenish-yellow hue of a pit viper. They were all terrifying, but the last man was pure evil. His scales were dark brown, and I gasped at his black tongue when he opened his mouth.

A black mamba.

What the fuck?

He stood in front of the others, the apparent leader of The Serpents.

“Give him back to me,” I shouted.

The black mamba opened his mouth. But before he could reply, my vision blurred, and someone shook my shoulder so hard it snapped me back to reality.

“Alex, wake up.”

My eyes shot open at the sound of Marcello’s deep voice. He held onto my shoulder, sitting at the edge of my bed. Concern scrolled across his face. I attempted to speak, but my mouth was so dry my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

Maybe he wasn’t real.

Maybe it was all a dream.

“Look at me.” Marcello slid his hand beneath my chin and squeezed, forcing my eyes open. “How long has this been going on?”

“What?” I choked out.

“Night terrors. You’ve had them since your first night here. They’re getting worse.”

I took a deep breath and shoved his hand away from my face. “Don’t act as if you care about me, Marcello. You’re the one who locked me in this room. I only have you and Luca to blame.”

He glared at me.

“Aiden trusted you,” I said with venom in my tone. “He got his information about The Serpents from you. I told him you were all fucking snakes, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

Marcello’s jaw ticked. “Enough.”

For years, I had woken up from the same horrific dreams. The dark closet. My mother and her slow, agonizing torture.

Aiden had slept beside me most nights when we were kids and would rock me back to sleep and hold my hand to stop the shakes. Then, when we left for college, the dreams stopped. The distance from my parents kept them at bay. But after Aiden disappeared, the pain came flooding back. His loss had unlocked a part of my mind that held all my worst memories.

All of my fears.

Then the nightmares about The Serpents started. I met two of them once. If anyone could find Aiden, it was The Serpents.So, every night, my subconscious searched for their hiding place—The River Styx.

Marcello grabbed a tray from the table by the window. He set the coffee and a plate of toast in front of me. The Salvatores knew everything about me. Now, they were even aware of my nightmares. I’d never mentioned them to Luca. Not like it was his business.

I sat up and hooked my finger through the cup’s handle, lifting it from the saucer. “Is this a peace offering?”

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