Page 8 of These Monstrous Ties
I know the Alexandria University students have parties here, although I’ve never seen a fire here before. I know that this is a college town. But I have no idea what ‘Lover’s Death’ is or why the gorgeous dude in skull paint beside me is called ‘Lucifer’.
Lucifer smiles. He pulls a cigarette from his back pocket, along with a lighter. He lights up, takes a drag, blows smoke my way. I take a step back and then he finally answers my question.
Kind of.
“You’ll see.”
This isn’t what I had planned for the night.
“Look, I don’t really want to party tonight. And it seems all your friends—” I fling my hand toward the horde of people gathered around the fire, some of them definitely staring as us, “—are waiting for you. I’ll just...” I cough, “go.” I finish. I don’t know why, but Lucifer is staring down at me while he smokes as if I’ve just said something truly amusing.
He watches me for an unnerving moment, blowing smoke out of his full, skeletal lips lazily.
“You’re not going anywhere, Lilith.”
I feel anger rise up in my gut but before I can tell him to ‘Fuck off’, he continues, “Tonight, I need you by my side.” His eyes flick to the gun on my thigh. “Weren’t you planning to go to hell anyway?”
I stiffen. How can he know that? How does he even know this is a real gun?
He can’t. He’s bluffing. He’s referring to my Lilith costume.
“Why do you need me?” I protest. “What is ‘Lover’s Death’ anyway?”
He smiles as smoke comes through his nose. He looks truly devilish. Beautiful and haunting all at once.
“You’ll see.” He takes my hand and pulls me forward, to the people standing by the plastic tables.
They stop talking as we approach. Only the crackling fire and music from a portable speaker—Ghostby Badflower—sounds in the park.
I notice every man here is fucking gorgeous. It shouldn’t surprise me. Like calls to like and all that. The women are too, but it seems the men have some sort of sway here. Like whatever this is, they’re leading it. It’s evident in the way they stand. The way they appraise me as I approach, like I’m their next meal.
Far off from the rest of them is a tall man in a hoodie, pulled down so far over his face, I can only make out a chiseled jaw. He has his arms crossed and his lips are pulled down into a scowl.
Lucifer’s voice draws my attention back to him.
“I don’t answer questions,” he’s saying. He has a black plastic cup in his hand and he’s pouring an obscene amount of vodka into it.
“But Luc—” a girl is protesting across the table from him. She’s got long black braids, and she’s wearing a pink crop top and high waisted shorts. It’s chilly out here and her arms are crossed, as if she’s trying to ward herself away from the cold.
Or maybe the weight of Lucifer’s stare. He silences her with a look. He sets the bottle down, screws the lid back on. Still watching her, he opens the lid of a cooler, scoops out ice, dumps it in the cup, puts the scooper back in, and closes it. His hand still resting on the cooler lid, he flicks his brows up.
“Why’re you here?” he asks the girl. His eyes snake over her frame. “And why are you wearing that?” His lip curls.
I see her deep brown skin redden as she glances down self-consciously. I don’t want to give a shit. But I do. I feel for her.
“I-I didn’t know we were dressing up. Atlas didn’t say—”
“You didn’t ask, doll.” Atlas breaks off a kiss with another girl dressed as a vampire at the far end of the table long enough to say those words.
But the girl with the braids is too startled to look at him. She’s drowning in an excuse and I don’t know why. I don’t know why the fuck it matters. This is a public place.
I put my hand on Lucifer’s arm, his hoodie sleeves pulled up to his elbows.
He stills under my touch and I swear everyone is holding their breath. I see his jaw clench as his eyes pivot to me.
I drop my hand.
I’m frozen. I don’t know what I was going to say. I meant to stand up for the girl but now I’m speechless.
