Chapter 16 - Percy

The party is in full swing by the time I manage to arrive. I affix the little number I was given to my chest and look around. The entire town square is crowded with Rosecreek residents, people in costume, and hundreds of tourists, marveling at the commitment to fully turning the place into a Halloween haven. The decorations are incredible, and I know it's because of Linnea's efforts.

After what happened between Veronica and I, and the knowledge that I really could have hurt her, I had to take some time away. I felt like I couldn't breathe, like I'd let her down once again. Despite what everyone had told me, I had put her up on that counter and put her in that position, even though it could have killed her.

There was something deep inside me that told me it wouldn't. I knew it wouldn't, instinctively, but that's not enough—I can't stop hating myself for even allowing the possibility of it. If she didn't hate me before for everything that's happened between us, surely she hates me now for taking off after what must have been the worst sex of her life.

I went down to the lake, staring at the water and breathing, forcing my body to calm down. And the worst part? It hadn't helped; it had barely touched the need and want and desperate, clawing arousal I felt for her. I just wanted to wrap her up in my arms and take her to my bed, keeping her there until the feeling went away.

But before, I thought I couldn't because it might hurt her. Now, I think I can't because there's no way she even wants to look at me. By now, the realization of what a monster I am has probably sunk in—I was willing to kill her, just for a fuck.

That's not true , something in my brain says, but I push it away. I don't want to bargain with myself. I'm here because Linnea told me to come, and because it was an order from Aris.

And because, if something happens to Veronica while she's here, I will never forgive myself.

"Seriously?" someone says, and I turn around to see Linnea, dressed like a pirate, giving me a sour look, her lips pursed.

"What?" I ask, scratching my arm, but I know what.

"You came as a werewolf ?" she says, rolling her eyes. "I told Aris this was going to happen. He never listens to me."

"I'm pretty sure all he does is listen to you," I mutter, but she's already turned away, marching through the crowds of tourists, apparently looking for Aris so she can rat me out for choosing a lazy costume.

As I watch her go, my gaze drifts to the stage, where a local band is playing their rendition of "Somebody's Watching Me." It's an eerie song, and as my eyes are drifting over the crowd, I see Veronica dancing with Rosa and Olivia.

Wearing that fucking vampire costume.

I take a breath, remembering when I came up the stairs earlier. I'd felt like an animal, so out of control, when I saw her in that dress, that I couldn't see straight. It didn't help that Veronica was basically screaming fuck me with her eyes, which roamed over me more than once.

Shaking my head to clear it, I push through the crowds, moving toward Bigby and Byron, who I spot on the outskirts, leaning against a building and drinking something from black paper cups.

They're watching Rosa, Olivia, and Veronica dance together. Despite the fact that I know neither of them is particularly interested in Veronica, I can't help the flare of protectiveness that pushes through me.

"Hey, man," Bigby says when I walk up, and Byron's head snaps over, his eyes meeting mine.

"Hey," he says, his voice tight. "Uh, weird question, but do you know where Veronica got that dress?"

"Why?" I joke, accepted a black paper cup from Bigby, and taking a sip. Apple cider. "You looking for the same one?"

He rolls his eyes as Bigby lets out a loud hoot, drawing the attention of several tourists, some of which point and whisper. Bigby is always drawing attention for his size, and I even heard someone tell him his "costume was really dope" one year, which is something I never let him live down.

"Sorry, man," I say, when Bigby has calmed down enough that I can hear again. "I have no idea."

I wish I knew, so I could give them a hug. Or maybe punch them across the jaw. I haven't decided yet—that dress looks so good, but it also led to what happened earlier, so maybe it's just a draw.

We stand together, watching the girls dancing, when Aris appears, scowling.

"Hey," he says, "you guys are pretty shitty security guards."

"Not to be rude, man," Bigby says, "but there's one thing here I care about protecting more than the others. And I'm looking at it."

"I'm flattered," Aris says, which makes Byron laugh and Bigby roll his eyes. "But I can take care of myself. I really need you guys spread out so we can make sure there's no threat here tonight—vampire or otherwise."

"Yes, sir," Byron says, giving him a salute. "This was getting boring anyway."

"Speak for yourself," Bigby says, swallowing down the last of his drink and crumpling the cup, before tossing it in a trash can. "I was having a great time."

"Don't you see her in a lab coat every day?" I ask, glancing at him, realizing for the first time that he's wearing a matching lab coat with her. I've been so zoned out that I haven't noticed my team member's costumes—Aris in a matching pirate costume, Byron with his face painted like a cyborg, and Ado, across the plaza, wearing a large arrow, like the kind someone might spin around outside a business.

"What is Ado supposed to be?" I ask, scrunching my nose.

"I have no idea," Aris says, "but if you figure it out, please tell me. He won't spill, and he's been waiting for someone to figure it out all night. Even Bigby and Rosa couldn't get it. Now, seriously, come on, spread out, and stop watching the girls."

We do as he says, splitting up and heading to opposite sides of the area like Ado's been doing. When I find a spot with a good vantage point, Linnea steps onto the stage, tapping the microphone and speaking into it.

"Hello, everyone, and thank you so much for joining us on this beautiful October weekend. Let's hear it for the band!"

Everyone claps, and she waits for it to die down before leaning in and speaking again.

"Right now, behind the stage, some of our volunteers are counting the votes for best costumes in the crowd. Later, we'll have a formal costume contest for those of us who like to try our hardest, but we thought it would be fun to pick a few amateur costumers for the first prize of the night."

She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and someone runs up onto the stage, handing her a card.

"Alright!" she says, taking a big breath. "Will numbers 42 and 331 please come to the stage? You are our winners for the in-crowd costume contest!"

I glance down at the number on my shirt and realize I'm number 331. When I look up, I see Veronica climbing the stairs, looking around for her co-winner. Of course— of course, it would be her, in that damn dress.

As I make my way to the stage, I watch her face for the moment she realizes it's me, and wince at the shadow that passes over her features. I was right—she's pissed at me for leaving earlier. Part of me wants to turn around and walk away. Another part of me reminds me that if we did it once, we could probably do it again, so I should work on winning her over again.

"Veronica," I say when I finally reach the stage, but I'm drowned out by the sounds of the crowd roaring. Linnea grins at the two of us, and when Veronica frowns at her, I realize Linnea set this up. Meaning well, but forcing us together way too soon after what happened between us.

"As your prize, you get to be the first dance of the night during the slow dance!"

"That's a prize?" I deadpan, and Veronica cuts her eyes to me. Of course, she heard me that time. Linnea leads us down off the stage, and the crowd clears the way for us, making a huge circle around us. We stop and come together, dancing like we're at a religious summer camp, with more than a foot between our chests. Linne raises an eyebrow at me, but I avoid her look. The band starts to play a slow version of "Thriller" by Michael Jackson, which is so ridiculous that I have to laugh.

I can tell Veronica wants to laugh, too, but isn't letting herself. I must have really pissed her off earlier by leaving like I did. I think about how she called my name as I was leaving a wince. I probably would have been pissed, too.

"Hey," I say, but just then, the song ends, and a few other couples come into the space with us. Veronica takes that as an opportunity to leave, pushing through the crowd to get away from me. Despite myself, I push after her, feeling torn. I should give her space, but I should also give her an apology.

"Veronica, wait ," I say, tailing her through most of the festival, trying to catch her but unable to. Whenever I get close, someone steps in my path or obstructs my view. Finally, she bursts out of the crowd, heading a street over, which is quiet and practically deserted compared to where the tourists are congregated.

She has her hand on the door to the apartment when I catch up to her.

" Veronica ," I say, reaching out to touch her, "I'm sorry—"

" Don't touch me," she snaps, yanking away from me, her dark eyes blazing when she looks at me. "Out of everything," she says, her voice breaking. "This hurts the worse. I just want you to know that."

"I—I'm sorry," I stammer, "I just needed some air, and I shouldn't have walked off like that—"

"Seriously?" she says, rearing her head back and blinking at me. "I am not mad that you left—I mean, I'm a little mad about that, but I just found out about your lie , Percy, and that fucking sucks."

"My lie?" I parrot, feeling completely out of my element.

"Yes," she says, her expression hurt, her lip wobbling a bit, then holding strong. "When were you going to tell me that we're mates ?"