Page 65 of Disharmony

The sun is hot but feels worse in an all-black outfit. I agonized over what to wear before deciding on my favorite high-waist acid wash shorts and a crop top. I’ve layered two necklaces; a long chain with a silver inverse crucifix nestled between my breasts, and a satin choker hugging my throat.

This isn’t a date, I remind myself, you’re going to see the Basilisks working. If anything, it’s more like a business meeting—even if it was easier to let my camp mates think otherwise. As much as they enjoyed their gig, I have a sneaking suspicion Cookie wouldn’t approve of me putting time into something outside of my potential pop career.

I wave Declan goodbye as his car rushes past and pause at the coffee shop entrance. As soon as he turns the corner, I keep walking, following the directions I memorized. My breathing is erratic, and I have to make a conscious effort to release the air from my lungs.

Think, Ash.

You need to keep your cool.

Think of anything to stop you from freaking the fuck out.

My mind strays back to when I spray-paintedmurderersover a butcher’s shop window. Thankfully, I was only a minor and Dad being the sheriff helped to smooth it over, but I had to clean the shop windows every month for the next year as punishment, which only reaffirmed my choice to go vegan. There’s nothing like thinking of slaughter to calm racing nerves.

I take a left into a narrow alleyway lined with dumpsters and continue down it. Have I taken a wrong turn? Just as I’m about to backtrack, the headlights of Buggy poke out from around the next bend.

I text Ripper.

Me: I’m almost there.

nineteen

Zed

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding!” I grab Ripper’s shirt and yank him forward. My spit sprays over his face, but I’m too angry to give a shit. “Why didn’t you tell us before now?”

At the other end of the room, Venom makes himself at home at the studio. He sprawls across the red velvet sofa and scrolls through Ripper’s phone to read the messages. Ripper looks torn between punching me, something he knows better than to do, and tearing the cell from Venom’s hands. I don’t usually condone an invasion of privacy, but this is an exception. I’m in damage control mode. I’ll tear his motherfucking cell apart if it means ensuring he hasn’t put us at risk.

Venom’s eyes flit up from the screen. “You shared lyrics with her?”

I scowl and let Ripper go before I choke him. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

Ripper isn’t careful or calculated like me, or quiet and broody like Venom, he’s wild and irrational. He’s a liability who risks blowing our secret by chasing the first pretty girl who caught his attention this summer. A pretty girl who has also been on my mind since I watched her lose her shit on a drum kit.

“What’s wrong with sharing lyrics?” Ripper snatches his phone from Venom. His nostrils flare in fury. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him this mad. “We’re talking about music. Nothing else”

“How do we know you’ve not deleted any messages?” I demand. “How much does she know?”

“Nothing,” Ripper snarls. “I’m not fucking stupid.”

Venom suddenly groans and puts his head in his hands.

“What now?” I snap at him.

“We’re going to have to record in masks now,” he grumbles. “That fucking sucks, dude.”

Ripper ignores him. “I really think she can help us, Zed.”

“Help us?” I laugh coldly, “Or help you?”

All he ever wants is to get his dick wet. He doesn’t see the danger or how Ash poses a threat to everything we stand for. We’ve spent years being careful. No one gets close to us. We can’t allow it. Our lack of identity is what makes us who we are. The Basilisks are a mystery. No one knows the faces behind our masks, and we have to keep it that way.

“I won’t let you throw away what we’ve worked toward,” I warn, jabbing my finger into Ripper’s chest. “We’ve worked too hard for this. This is all we have. What if she figures it out?”

“She won’t,” Venom chips in, to my surprise.

Shit. Does that mean he’s noticed her too?

“How do you know that?” I ask.

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