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7. SEVEN

SEVEN

I t's already dark, and I'm an overstimulated nightmare by the time we begin winding up the driveway to the secluded mansion in Idaho. I knew the De Rossi brothers came from money; I've driven through the Hollywood Hills, and I've seen the homes on the cliffs overlooking Laguna Beach, but still…the sight of it takes me by surprise. Even without the context, I think the home would seem ominous. Why would some wealthy international businessman choose such a secluded location? What would it be like to grow up here?

How did they turn into this?

The driveway ends in a loop in front of the main entrance which is already lined with cars and maybe fifty people waiting in the yard.

"The welcoming party," River says to me. "Gotta get it over with. Hope you're ready for this."

"What is this?" I ask. "Locals? Fans?"

"Mmm…maybe a little of both. But mostly, like-minded individuals. They'll be gone by tomorrow for the most part."

I want to ask what that means, but before I can, the bus pulls to a stop, and she gets up and walks toward the bedroom to gather her things.

"The bus won't stay here, so make sure you get everything," she says. "Unless you don't want to see it for a while."

"Right. Okay."

I grab the last of my things and toss them into my bag, then throw it over my shoulder and follow River and Hazel out of the room.

"Phones," Declan says. He opens one of the cabinets, which is actually a safe, and everyone hands over their phone on the way out.

He holds out his hand as I pass, and, reluctantly, I set my phone in his palm. "It's for your own good," he says.

"I'm sure it is." I turn and gesture to the crowd of people in front of the house. "What about all of them? Are you going to take their phones, too?"

"They know the rules," he says. "If they try to bring a phone into my house, I'll take a lot more than that."

Somehow resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I step off the bus, joining the crowd around the door. I finally see Luca for the first time since this morning, making his way through the crowd, embracing friends, smiling.

I haven't seen Layla since last night, either. She passes in front of me now, before stopping in Declan's path as he steps off the bus. I watch her lips move but can't make out what she's saying. Whatever it is, Declan isn't interested. He dismisses her wordlessly and steps around her.

She watches him leave with those eyes again—those cold, sad, lifeless, dark blue eyes. All I can do is stare until I realize the crowd around me is moving.

Luca opens the door, and, slowly, the sea of people makes their way inside. When I get closer to the threshold, I realize why we're moving so slowly.

He's slicing palms. Each person wipes their bloody hand against the back of the door before entering the home. I watch the girls do the same, appearing unfazed, before I'm the one standing in front of Luca.

"This doesn't seem sanitary," I say.

"They're all as clean as you are, or they wouldn't be here. Do you trust me?"

I laugh—actually laugh. "No!"

"Hand," he says, extending his own.

"I'm pretty sure this counts as talking," I tell him, then place my hand palm-up on his own. "And touching."

"I won't tell if you don't," he says before running the blade across my palm. It's sharp enough that the cut doesn't need to be deep; I barely feel it against my skin before the blood begins to seep through the wound in a paper-cut-thin line.

Then, Luca brings my palm to his mouth and sucks it clean.

He's drinking my blood.

I remember what Declan said last night about the blood—about how there's power in it, that it's forbidden, and that's what makes it so erotic. If I wasn't awake before, I'm certainly awake now.

Someone bumps into me from behind, and I remember I'm holding up a line of people behind me. I start to pull my hand away, but Luca grabs me by the wrist, squeezing forcefully.

Blood pools around the cut again. Before it runs down my arm, he takes my hand and smears it against the door.

"Still have to pay the price of admission," he says, releasing me.

I slowly bring my hand back to my body, and he smiles as I step inside.

I take in my surroundings—the marble floors, the high ceilings. The grand staircase and fireplace. The opulent main living area is already filled with people and noise—loud music blares from speakers hidden somewhere in the room. A couple passes me with what appears to be vials of blood hanging from chains on their necks. The man turns to me and smiles, revealing canines filed into fangs.

What in the fucking Twilight fandom was that?

"Hey," River says, nudging me. "I told you things were a little weird here. Come on."

She takes me to the kitchen with the rest of the family. Brady and Alana are filling test tubes with a thick, red substance. "What is that?" I ask, remembering the jello shots in L.A.

"It's what it looks like," Alana says, handing one to me.

"And…what else?"

"Nothing else this time. This is all blood. Bottom's up, fam," she says.

I watch Brady, Alana, Hazel, Rhett, and Layla all grab a tube from the tray, too. I wait until the others throw it back to do the same. I surprise myself when I swallow it down easily.

River reaches out and swipes her thumb across my lip. When she pulls it away, it comes back bloody. She sucks it into her own mouth. "Not so bad, right?" she asks.

"No. But…I still don't think I quite get it," I tell her, even though it feels like a lie when it leaves my lips. I think of Luca's tongue on my palm, of my conversation with Declan in the club last night and the way he ran the blunt side of his blade over my skin. I think of Hazel covered in blood on the table and when he licked his lips before he wiped the blood and cum away from his mouth.

I think of my own obsession with the darker parts of humanity and the last time I got a little too close to it.

No, I think I understand just fine. And now I'm doubting myself again, wondering if maybe it's time for me to go home. It's the most inconvenient time for me to have such an epiphany.

"Sure you don't," Brady scoffs.

"Give her another one," Rhett says, laughing.

Hazel hoists herself onto the counter and grabs a small square of watermelon from a fruit tray. "Open," she says to me.

I obey, and she sets the square on my tongue. I taste iron again before I bite down, filling my mouth with a diluted mix of human blood, vodka, and the fruit's sweet nectar. I watch as she does the same, wiping her mouth as the pink liquid drips onto her chin.

"Come here," Hazel says.

"What do you mean?"

She holds out her hand, and after I take it, she pulls me into her so that I'm standing between her legs, then turns me so I'm facing out into the main living area, and rests her hands on my shoulders.

"Can't you feel it?" she asks. "Can't you see how it makes things different? Pay attention, Teagan. Try to give in to it, and then you'll get it. Don't you feel just a little more aware of your surroundings than usual?"

She brushes my hair over one shoulder and runs a finger up the side of my neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"Are your thoughts just a little bit clearer?"

"Yeah," I tell her. "I think. Maybe."

"Look around. Turn off that part of your brain that's telling you that this is all just a bunch of fucking weirdos playing vampire. See and feel what's inside you, in front of you, and around you."

I look back at her over my shoulder. "How did you know that's what I was thinking?"

"Because that's what Riv thought at first, too."

"Really?" I ask.

She nods.

"You know, in many cultures, drinking blood was thought to be a cure-all for the spirit—a cleansing for all the things that ail you but no one can see…the ones that live in your bones."

"I have a few of those…" I say.

"Come on, let's go join the party," River says.

Hazel jumps down from the counter and leads me back into the main living room with her arm nestled in the crook of Layla's.

Layla, with her sad, dead eyes, pale grey skin, and stained red lips, moves lifelessly through the throng of people. Her makeup looks like an accident—like she did her best to go through the motions but didn't quite get it right, and now, it looks more like a mask than it should. Even the way she moves looks unnatural; it's as if someone else is pulling the strings and making her do it when all she wants to do is curl up in a ball on the floor.

Fuck. Maybe my perception is heightened.

I look around the darkened room and through the sea of bodies—some bare and some bloodied, most moving with the music and gyrating on all sides of me. The room is filled to the brim with sex. I try to do what Hazel said and feel it instead of thinking about it, and I do. I feel like I'm wading through it, swimming it in.

The room has a pulse, and I feel the shift in vibration.

Either that, or I'm just as crazy as they are.

River turns to me with a glass in each hand and extends one to me. I take it, relieved when I see only clear liquid inside, then bring it to my mouth. I taste smooth gin on my tongue and quickly drain the contents.

Then, I let her take me by the hand, and we dance. I don't know for how long; I lose track of space and time, spinning in circles, grabbing shot glasses and more fruit slices soaked in blood and vodka from trays around the room.

And then I'm light-headed. I'm fairly certain I'm something other than drunk.

"Enjoying yourself?" Declan says from behind me.

"I'm…I'm not sure." I look from him back to where the girls were only seconds ago, and now Layla's there alone. I watch her float across the room in that unnatural, heavy way before dropping down into a high-backed chair. "Did you drug me?"

"I didn't give you anything, did I?" he asks. "This is the first time I've seen you all night."

It's evasive. I don't tell him that.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he says. His tone is light for once, and it catches me off guard. "Something real."

"What's in it for me?"

"I gave you three questions last night. Maybe this is just for me. Maybe you owe me, and this is such a small thing, don't you think?"

"I'm thinking about drugs now," I tell him. "You were wrong, by the way. Attention is not my drug of choice; I don't care about that. And I'm thinking about the series of accidents that landed me here and trying to figure out what I missed." I turn away from him and back to that high-backed chair. "And Layla. I'm thinking about Layla. I'm not sure there's anyone in there anymore. She's your family, right? Don't you care?"

His eyes shift again, and his jaw clenches. Oh, shit. I said all of that out loud, didn't I? Why the fuck would I do that?

"Layla is family. But she…disappointed me. And there are no accidents, Teagan; you know that, right?"

"I'm not really the religious type."

"It's got nothing to do with religion. There are no accidents, Teagan—that's what you're missing. This might not be something you're used to, but…you're not in control here."

Yeah, I'm starting to figure that out.

"Well, I don't like that."

The room begins to lean to the side, and I feel myself going down with it. I reach out and grab his arm to stabilize myself.

"Um…sorry," I say before slowly letting it drop.

"What is your drug of choice, Teagan?" he asks.

"Freedom," I say, embarrassed after the word leaves my lips. I'm not even sure where it came from.

He opens his mouth to say something but before he can, I'm catapulted forward and onto the hard marble floor. I look over my shoulder at the man I saw earlier—the one with his teeth filed into fangs.

"Whoops, my bad," he says, laughing. He extends a hand to help me up, and I almost take it before Declan's hand closes around the man's throat.

"Get the fuck out of my house before I slice you open and strangle you with your own intestines."

He releases the man, who stumbles backward, choking, before turning and heading for the door.

"Are you okay?" Declan asks.

He reaches for me, but I quickly scramble to my feet on my own. He folds his arms across his chest, his eyes darkened with rage, and when he speaks again, his tone changes.

"I don't like sloppy people in my house," he says. "You should get your shit together, too."

Then, he turns and stalks off toward the staircase.

That was fucking weird.

I begin to move through the room, scanning it for a familiar face. I pass Layla in the high-backed chair, then cross the entryway of a parlor of some sort, hearing a familiar laugh.

"Riv," I say, leaning against the doorframe. "You left me."

"Aw, I'm sorry!" she says. "I didn't mean to. Come here." She pats the place next to her on the sofa, then gestures toward Hazel. "Just…don't talk to or touch him."

Oh…Luca. Perfect. I didn't realize that's whose lap Hazel was sitting in.

I cross the room to the sofa, but when I go to sit, I miss and end up on the floor in the space between the couch and the coffee table.

"Jesus," River says. "Are you okay?"

"I don't think so," I tell her. "I think maybe someone gave me drugs because I can't stop talking."

"What?" she says as they laugh.

"I've never done drugs before."

"What do you mean you've never done drugs? No drugs ever?" Hazel asks.

I shake my head. "I've smoked weed a few times."

"How is that possible?" she asks.

"I don't have any friends," I whisper. Why am I whispering?

The three of them laugh.

"How are those two things related?" River asks.

"That's usually when people try drugs, right? They do it with their friends? I don't have any friends."

"You have no friends?" River asks. "I don't believe you."

"My sister is my friend," I tell them, then I start to laugh. "But she doesn't like me."

"I like you," Luca says.

"Don't talk to her," Hazel says. "Get her off the floor, Riv."

"Oh, shit," River says, jumping up from the sofa. "You're right—sorry. Come here, Teagan."

She grabs me under my armpits and pulls me to my feet, and then we both fall back onto the couch. I turn so that I'm facing Hazel and Luca with River at my back and pull my legs under my body.

"Luca, you're wearing a shirt," I say.

He smiles. "So are you."

"Yep," I reply with a laugh. "I didn't recognize you. You almost look like a normal human instead of…whatever you are."

"I missed you," he says. He stretches his arm across the back of the sofa and wipes my lower lip with his thumb. "Why are you bleeding?"

"Someone knocked me over."

He brings that thumb to his mouth and sucks it clean. "Black licorice. I knew it."

"Luca…" Hazel cautions.

"She likes him, though," River says.

"Riv, don't," she cautions.

"Well, don't you feel kind of bad for them?"

Hazel looks back and forth between Luca and me. "I mean…kind of. But it doesn't have anything to do with Teagan. Declan said—"

She stops when River gets up and heads for the doors.

"Yeah, Hazel. Feel bad for me and walk away like River," Luca says.

But River doesn't walk away. She pulls the double doors closed in front of her, then turns back and smiles. "He said they can't talk or touch each other, right?"

She settles back into her spot behind me, then brushes my hair away from my neck. "He didn't say anything about watching."

I feel her warm mouth just beneath my ear, kissing me slowly and softly at first as if testing the waters. She wraps her arms around the front of my body, running her hands over my chest while she licks and sucks on my neck—my fucking weakness. I suck in a breath and lean back against her.

"Have you ever been with a girl before, Teagan?" Hazel asks, running her fingers up and down on the inside of my calf as she leans against Luca.

"Yes," I manage.

"Have you ever been with two girls before?"

"No," I tell her.

River pulls me in tighter and wraps one hand around the front of my throat, using it to turn my head to the side. Her full, soft lips meet mine, and I reach for her, threading a hand through her white-blonde hair and deepening the kiss. She moans into my mouth, her tongue tangled with my own. The hand on my stomach roams again, pulling my t-shirt from where I'd tucked it into my skirt. Fingertips run across the front of my stomach before slowly dipping down below the waistband of the skirt and into my underwear.

I whimper against her mouth when those fingers finally glide over my wet clit, my hips rising to meet her.

"God, she's so wet, Luca," River says. She dips a finger inside my pussy. "Can you hear it? And so soft and tight. I bet she'd feel so good wrapped around your cock."

Her words pull another moan from the back of my throat. I feel her smile against my neck before moving another finger inside me. As she pulls my earlobe into her mouth, I spread my legs wider, giving her better access. I finally meet Luca's eyes and watch as he licks his lips and tightens his death grip on the back of the couch.

"Take her clothes off," he says.

His tone is deeper, more even and controlled than I've ever heard it. His eyes are anything but.

River's hand leaves my body, and I gasp at the loss. I half-turn toward her and see a knife in her hand. She extends it to Hazel, who grabs it, moving from Luca's lap to sit between my open legs.

She kneels over me, brings the knife to my throat, and grips the collar of my shirt in her fist.

I try to move my arms and realize they're pinned to my sides.

"What…what are you doing?" I ask.

Hazel smiles, pulling the shirt collar taut before dragging the knife down the middle and slicing it open. It falls on either side of my body, and she looks down at my black lace bra.

"This is pretty," Hazel says. She runs the knife up my sternum, slipping it between my skin and the thin lace fabric. "I'm almost sorry to do this, but I want to see your tits, too."

She pulls up, and the knife tears through the fabric. I yelp in pain when it does, and when I look down, I see bright red blood running down my chest.

"Oops," Hazel says. "I guess it's only fair, though—after the club the other night…when you watched me." She sets the knife on the table, then leans over me and kisses River on the mouth. "I'm sorry, baby. I know it must be killing you that I get to taste her first." She looks back over her shoulder at Luca, and so do I, remembering again that he's there watching. Now, he watches with hooded eyes, pumping his dick in his fist. "You, too," Hazel adds.

She dips her head down and begins licking up the blood trailing down my breasts and over my stomach, cleaning the area before moving to my nipples, swirling her tongue over one of the hard tips and sucking it into her mouth. River releases one of my arms and begins teasing the other nipple with her thumb.

"Your tits look so fucking hot covered in blood," River says into my ear. "And she's right; I am so fucking jealous right now."

"Hazel," Luca groans. "Touch me."

"Just a minute," Hazel says.

She sits up, then reaches under my skirt and pulls my thong down my legs and over my boots.

"Do you want to see her pussy?" she asks.

"Fuck yes," he says.

Hazel pushes my skirt up around my waist and spreads my thighs wide. "Look how pretty it is," she says, slipping her fingers inside me. "And she's dripping wet—look at that."

"Hazel, I'm about to throw you off the couch and tear her in half," Luca warns, his jaw flexing.

My pussy clenches, and she smiles when she notices. "I think she'd like that," she tells him, continuing to fuck me with her fingers. "But you need to calm down. This is part of your problem, you know." She turns back to me and says, "His dick is huge, but I don't think he'd really tear you in half. Tiny little things like you and Riv, though…it takes some getting used to. Right, Riv?"

"Well, he isn't gentle," River says. "The way it curves though…hits all the right spots."

"Oh, god," I moan, feeling my orgasm building.

"Hazel…" Luca warns.

She lowers her head and runs her tongue up and down my pussy.

"Ahh!" I cry out, squirming against her mouth. Her tongue ring rolls over my clit, back and forth, and it feels so fucking good. My stomach muscles tighten, and my legs start to shake. River runs her thumbs over my nipples while kissing that spot just behind my ear.

"I think she's about to come," River says. "Are you going to come, Teagan? She's really good, isn't she?"

"Yes," I whimper.

Hazel sucks my clit into her mouth, flicking it with her tongue while her fingers curl inside me.

"Oh…oh, my god. Oh my…fffffuck."

I dig my nails into River's thighs when I explode on Hazel's tongue and fingers. She kisses and sucks my pussy through it until my legs relax and fall open.

"Holy fucking Christ," Luca says.

"Jesus," Hazel says. "I thought you were going to suffocate me. Come here, Riv. You want to taste her?"

She sits up and leans over me, kissing River on the mouth.

"Hazel!" Luca snaps.

She pulls away from River. "Fine."

She gets on her knees in front of Luca, wraps her fist around the base of his cock, and takes him into her mouth. His eyes roam over my body as he drops his head back onto the couch and groans. I look away and start to close my thighs.

"Don't you dare," he says. "You stay there just like that. I'm going to come all over you."

I don't answer, but I do as he says and let my legs fall open while I watch Hazel work his cock. Behind me, River moans and rocks her hips, touching herself while she watches. I slip my hand past her waistband and into her underwear and take over, massaging her clit with two fingers at the same quick pace she'd been using. Gripping my tit in one hand, she buries her face into my neck when she comes.

"Shit," Luca groans. "Haze, move."

She lets him fall from her mouth, and he kneels over me on the couch, stroking his cock in his hand. "Stick out your tongue like a good girl," he says.

I open up and do what he says.

"Fuck," he groans as hot spurts of cum coat my tits, neck, and tongue. "Fuck, Teagan. You look so perfect like this—covered in blood and cum. Oh, shit."

When he's finished, he watches me swallow the cum in my mouth and then sits back on the sofa. I look down at my cum and blood-covered chest and ruined shirt.

What the fuck just happened?

"Here," Luca says.

He removes his shirt and hands it to me, and I wipe myself clean. I sit up and pull my skirt back down, then shrug off my ripped shirt and bra. Then, I slip my arms back into that shirt and tie it in front of me.

I'm going to have a problem. I'm really running out of clothes now.

"That actually looks really hot," River says.

"Oh, thanks. I—"

But I'm cut off when the door opens.

"What the fuck is going on?" Declan roars.

Luca shrugs. "Nothing. I didn't touch her."

Declan flexes his jaw and shakes his head. "River?"

"What? He didn't. We're just hanging out."

"Out," Declan says. "Get out. All of you."

Hazel stands first and walks toward the doorway. Luca and River follow suit, and I trail just behind them, folding my arms over my tied-off, tattered shirt.

"Hazel, I'm disappointed," he says as she returns to the now-empty main room.

"I didn't let him touch her," she says.

He glares at Luca and River, who laugh quietly. "You two are fucking children," he says. Then, he turns to me and adds, "And you smell like cum. Layla!"

Layla looks over from the same chair I left her in with hopeful eyes. "Yeah?"

"Teagan is going to sleep with you. Show her where the room is. Alana, let's go."

I watch as whatever hope was there before dissipates, and her face falls.

"Good night, Teagan," River says as she ascends the staircase with Hazel.

Luca stalks off toward the kitchen, and Declan throws his arm around Alana.

"Declan!" Layla screams—actually screams—as they walk off together. It takes us all by surprise. "Please don't. Please…stop doing this to me. I'm so sorry. I love you so much—I'll do anything. Just…please talk to me. Please…tell me what to do."

He looks her up and down, emotionless. His eyes dart to me before he turns back around. "Make sure she takes a fucking shower, too," he says over his shoulder before he disappears down the hallway.

"Come on, Layla," I say, taking her hand. She stands and walks in that unnatural dead way again up the stairs with me at her side.

"It's the last room on the right side," she says.

We step inside the room, decorated in sage green and white. There's a queen-sized canopy bed at the center with a white down comforter and a teddy bear on the pillow.

"Is this really your room? Do you all have your own rooms?" I ask. "What's with the bear?"

"Declan got it for me," she says, looking at me through watery eyes.

Oh…shit.

"The first night we met. He won it; it was at the state fair. They weren't famous then."

I try to picture Declan as the kind of person who would win someone a teddy bear at the state fair. Even if this was a version of him that existed two years ago, it's difficult to imagine.

"Oh. Are you a local then?"

"I'm from a small town nearby called Post Falls," she says. "There's a bathroom there; I'll show you how to turn on the water. It's kind of confusing."

"Thanks," I tell her. "Um, do you have anything I can wear? I'm sorry to ask, but I don't have much, and I left my bag down in the kitchen."

"Yeah," she says. She walks over to the dresser and opens the bottom drawer. "Is this fine?"

She hands me a pair of black tights and a black Washington State Cougars hoodie.

"Yeah, that's perfect. Thank you," I tell her.

She forces a smile and steps into the bathroom.

"There are dual showerheads, but if you want to use them both, you have to turn this," she says, turning the water on. "If you don't like it, just turn it back. The floors and the towel rack are heated, too; I'll turn them both on for you."

She flips a couple of switches and starts to leave the room.

"Layla?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

She bursts into tears. "No," she says. "I'm not okay. I just…I love him so much. I don't know what to do."

"Well, what happened?" I ask. "You can tell me; I won't tell anyone."

"I'm not supposed to talk about it," she says.

"Well, it seems like you need to talk about it," I tell her. "It's killing you; I can see it."

"It is killing me," she cries. "I think I'm actually dying. I've never felt like this before."

"Why don't you leave then?" I ask. "Why don't you just go home?"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"He's torturing you—you're torturing yourself, too. Why wouldn't you?"

"Do you think that's what he wants? Do you think he wants me to leave? Oh my god…no. This is my family. I…no, I can't—"

"No," I stop her. "I'm sure that's not what he wants, okay? I don't even know him. Don't listen to me."

Layla slides down the wall onto the bathroom floor and drops her head in her hands. "I cut him," she says, her voice barely a whisper.

"What do you mean?" I ask, sitting beside her.

"I made him bleed. That's why he hates me."

"But…isn't that like…just a thing you all do?" I ask.

"Not Declan," she says. "He only takes. He even bathes in it, you know? But he won't spill his own blood; that's why he doesn't have any tattoos. But…I thought it would be okay because…he loved me."

Hearing her say it aloud…it's clear that she really believed it—with her whole heart. It makes my own ache. I doubt Declan is capable of loving anyone or anything. I don't tell the broken girl in front of me that.

"He did," she insists, perhaps seeing the disbelief on my face. "You weren't there. I was there, and he loved me."

"Layla, I'm so sorry."

"So, when he gave me the knife, I just…did it. He threw me off the bed. He was so mad, I actually thought he was going to kill me. In a way, I guess he did. You know I'd never even had a boyfriend before? I was homeschooled; my family was super religious, and…they hurt me. I can't go back to them, Teagan. I think maybe they'd kill me now, too."

"It'll be okay," I tell her. "We'll figure something out. I can help you."

"How can you help me?" she asks.

"I don't know, but I'd try," I say. But my mind circles back, latching onto something else she said earlier. "What do you mean by he bathes in it?"

"Exactly what you think I mean."

"Where does he get that much blood?" I ask.

"Nowhere good," Layla says.

"Layla, let me help. I'd hate to see something happen to you. I've heard some things."

"What kind of things?"

"About a girl named Bridget. Did you know her?"

Something flashes in her eyes and her demeanor changes. She scowls and pulls herself off of the floor.

Fuck. I fucked up.

"Bridget was an idiot," she says. "I am not like her. It's different."

"No, I believe you. I don't think you're like Bridget; I never said that. I don't even know what she was like. I just—I heard that Declan did something to her."

"I can't believe you would say that," she says. "No one did anything to Bridget, that's…she had problems, that's all."

"Layla, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, you shouldn't have," she snaps. "And you know what? You should be more worried about Luca. He's a lot more dangerous than Declan—he's unstable. And you do smell like cum."

She leaves the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

I sigh, shaking my head, unsure if I'd call that conversation a success or not, and then remove my tattered clothes and slip into the shower.

But I did learn something new: Declan won't spill his own blood—his power. It makes sense, given what he's told me. And Bridget was apparently crazy.

So is Luca.

And Layla is stuck here because she comes from an abusive home.

When I finish, Layla is already asleep, curled up with that teddy bear.

I crawl under the covers, close my eyes, and slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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