Possessed: A reverse harem bully romance (Kings of Miskatonic Prep Book 3) Page 12
I locked the door behind him, replaced the rolled towel and leaned against the door, my eyes darting from Trey on one bed to Quinn on the other. Being in the same room as the two of them gave me flashbacks to what happened between us at the movie night. It was too much testosterone – it made my throat constrict and my stomach to dance in a strange and pleasant way. I swallowed hard.
Quinn looked between Trey and I, and his expression darkened. “You two boned, didn’t you?” he demanded.
“That’s not important,” Trey said. He sounded tired.
“Of course it’s important. You boned and Hazy and Ayaz boned and poor Quinn is just left out here in no-Eskimo sex land.”
“It’s edimmu,” Trey corrected without thinking.
Quinn waved a hand. “Whatever. I don’t begrudge our girl the chance for a little undead lovin’. I just think Hazy should keep her options open. Once she’s gone to bed with me, there’s going to be no—”
“Quinn.” His name hissed through my teeth, even as my body flared with heat. Because I wanted it. I wanted him, which was ridiculous because I shouldn’t even be thinking about sex right now. “Don’t you want to hear what we’ve found out?”
“I want to find out how Hazy reacts when I roll her nipples under my tongue.” Quinn licked his upper lip. “What do you say, friend? We could have a repeat of the movie night—”
I pressed my legs together, trying to stop myself from thinking of the two of them with me, touching me, taking me… No, no, no, not now.
“As tempting as that is, you’re going to want to hear this,” Trey said. “Although it’s probably going to destroy your hard-on. I was right about the fire. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t faulty wiring. The Eldritch Club knew it would happen. They chose us to sacrifice.”
Quinn’s body froze. His mouth wobbled. He looked completely flustered.
“You don’t have a smartass comeback to that?” Trey sounded upset – as if somehow hearing one of Quinn’s quips would make what we knew somehow less horrific.
“I really, really don’t.” Quinn lay back on the pillows, his body rigid. All thought of boning fled from him. “Fuck.”
Trey nodded. “Yup.”
“But… my mom is in the Eldritch Club.” Quinn’s mouth wobbled again. “She’d never agree to that.”
He sounded like a little kid, so lost, so unable to believe his beloved parent was capable of such evil. I slammed my fingers into the burn on my wrist, which flared with a bright heat.
I believed it.
I knew what someone who claimed to love you more than life itself could do to you for their own selfishness.
“I don’t know the details, man,” Trey said quickly. “Maybe your mom protested, but you know what Damon is capable of. She might not have had a choice.”
Quinn winced and sat up again, his body curling as if he felt the whip across his back once more. He touched a hand to his cheek, his skin pale, his features devoid of his signature mirth. He’d been hurt too many times at the hands of his father, had thrown himself in front of his mother Elena to protect her from worse pain. But even knowing that wasn’t enough to take back the hurt she caused him now.
We’d just destroyed a piece of what made Quinn who he was. I hated that I was responsible for breaking his spirit, but I hated his parents more. Damon for being cruel. Elena, for being weak, for convincing him that her guilt was true love.
I longed to gather Quinn into my arms, but I had no comfort to give. I couldn’t tell him it was okay, because my own guilt would burn him even worse. But I could give a distraction. I pulled out Deborah’s book and dumped it in his lap. “This is Rebecca Nurse’s grimoire. We know she placed sigils in hidden places around the grounds. We know she protested Parris’ raising of the monster. After she left here she went all around the country, publishing occult pamphlets, so we know she survived the Great Old God. There might be something in this book that will help us.”
“If only we still had Ataturk,” Quinn said, turning the pages. “This is his jam.”
“That would be nice, but we don’t have Ayaz. It’s just us. Luckily, Rebecca doesn’t seem to have used as many dead languages as our friend Parris. Most of this book appears to be in English, albeit an archaic form. Between Trey and I, I think we can make some sense of this.”
“You and Trey?” Quinn looked at me in alarm. “You’re staying here? At school?”
“Of course. I’m not leaving you guys again, not unless they’re dragging my corpse away.”
Quinn shuddered. “Don’t joke about that, Hazy. That’s the reality if you stay here.”
I grinned, even though on the inside I was even more terrified than he was. “Coming back is genius. Vincent’s cronies are probably scouring the country for me. They’d never guess I’d be right under their noses.”
Quinn tried to grin back, but it never quite reached his eyes. “Okay, Hazy. What do you need from me?”
“The whole reason the Eldritch Club got away with this in the first place is that they bred you all to believe you’re serving some great purpose and that your family’s wealth, power, and honor come before everything else, even their own lives. And they used the booze and drugs and the scholarship students to keep you all in line, to keep you from asking questions. I believe the only way we’re going to free all the Miskatonic students from whatever spell keeps you here is to shatter this illusion.”
“And how do you think you’re going to achieve that?”
“I have an idea,” I said. “Remember last quarter when I pulled those pranks on Courtney and the monarchs to give them a taste of what they’d done to others?”
“I’ll never forget it.” There was Quinn’s cheeky grin again, a little wobbly at the edges but still enough to melt my heart. “Courtney tearing out her hair after you glued those cat ears to her head! Priceless.”
I smiled too, because the memory of pulling one over Courtney Haynes was pretty sweet. “That was fun, but I decided it wasn’t enough. I swore that I’d have my revenge in such a way that it would break the cycle of prejudice and abuse that’s defined this school. I had a plan that I hoped would make everyone see why they couldn’t just treat people the way they did. I think with a few tweaks, it might be just what we need. But now I don’t have access to the school, I’m going to need your help to make it happen.”
Chapter Eighteen
We let Andre back into his room, and Quinn and Trey and I snuck back across the hall. It was so strange to see Quinn’s clothing and Trey’s books tossed around the room where I’d spent so many hours. They didn’t belong down here in the basement with the exposed pipes and mysterious dripping – they weren’t part of this world.
The Kings had fallen.
But it might be the best thing that ever happened to them.
Trey climbed into his bed and fell asleep almost immediately. I borrowed a shirt from Quinn to sleep in. I turned away from him, facing the wall as I pulled my damp hoodie over my head and tugged down the t-shirt. My skin sizzled where Quinn’s eyes grazed across it.
I wanted him to want me. Which was crazy, because I was with Trey now, wasn’t I? I couldn’t have them both.
But you did have them both once before. Remember what they did to you, together.
I pressed my thighs together as the memory of it sent a flare of heat through my core. I had to stop. Leading Quinn on and teasing him with my body was something my mother would do, and I wouldn’t be like her. I wouldn’t.
Not in this room that already dripped with Ayaz’s memories.
“I’ll go back to Andre’s room.” My voice came out strangled, husky. “He’ll let me sleep in Greg’s bed.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Quinn yanked me back, wrapping his body around me and pulling me into bed beside him.
“I can’t,” I whispered. “Not here.”
“Because of Trey and Ayaz?” Quinn cocked an eyebrow. I nodded.
“Ayaz mostly. I just… if you and I… I don�
��t want it to be tainted by his memory.”
“I’m not so keen on that myself.” Quinn sighed. “Okay, Hazy. No boning tonight. But you’re not going anywhere. Just don’t be surprised if my hard-on jabs you in the thigh all night.”
He wasn’t wrong. My naked thighs pressed against him, and I could feel everything. The strain of his muscles as he tried to relax, the sharp intake of breath against my neck as his hand accidentally brushed my breast.
My whole body buzzed with sensation. Every touch sent flares of fire through my nerves. Each breath became an erotic art, each groan of the mattress beneath us a tantalizing promise of what could have been.
No way was I getting any sleep in Quinn’s arms.
I was right. By the time the sun peeked in through the window, I was a live wire of hormones and desperation. Quinn must’ve been suffering just as much, because when I tried to adjust my arm into a more comfortable position, my ass rubbed down his rigid cock and he shuddered.
“Fuck this,” he growled, his voice dripping with need.
Before I could say anything. Quinn grabbed my hand and yanked me roughly from the bed. His lips captured mine in a total collapse of willpower, a total abandonment of all sense that left me ragged, breathless, burning for more.
His hands explored my body in the dark, tugging at the flimsy t-shirt, pressing hot skin against skin. His fingers grazed my hardened nipple, and I moaned against his slicing tongue. I was gone. I was his. I kissed him hungrily, not caring about the noises I made, the groans of desperation that Trey might’ve been able to hear.
As we kissed, Quinn lifted me into his arms, carrying me easily across the room. “Where are we going?” I demanded, breaking the kiss to demand an answer.
“Somewhere we can be alone,” he whispered back. I could hear the smile in his voice. “I want to show you what you’ve been missing.”
Quinn grunted as he struggled with the door, but he wouldn’t put me down. He finally managed to yank it open. He carried me down the hall, squeezed through the tunnel, then carried me again down to the pleasure garden. With every step we took away from the school, my longing for him burned ever brighter, until I was an inferno, ready to raze down a forest for another taste of him.
The rising sun warmed the air just enough that my naked flesh responded, sizzling with need as Quinn lifted me through the overhanging trees.
I expected him to go to the grotto, but perhaps he’d read from my expression that Ayaz’s memory haunted that, too. Instead, he pulled me under the crumbling rotunda. In the center was a metal fire pit, the coals cold and raked over. No one had been here tonight.
Quinn. My back pressed against an ancient column, the cold stone doing little to cool my searing skin. I wrapped my legs around him as he slammed his body against mine, pinning me with his need while he attacked my mouth with his.
Danger lurked in every kiss; every caress was another chance we’d be caught. But that only made it all the more exciting.
Quinn tugged off my t-shirt, his hands palming my breasts, his thumb brushing over my nipples as he sought my mouth. His hips thrust forward, grinding against me, in case I was in any doubt just how much he wanted this. Wanted me.
It felt greedy to kiss Quinn like this. He gave me everything I demanded, his body rising to meet mine. I kissed him harder, faster – it was a kiss of the here and now, of the way Quinn lived his life because he’d lost all hope in a future.
For the undead, Quinn’s kiss dripped with life, with the verve and vivacity and Bacchanalian abandonment that were uniquely his.
He pulled away, panting hard, and dragged a condom from his pocket. “I heard from Ayaz you don’t trust us not to give you a zombie baby,” he grinned as he tugged down his boxers and rolled it on.
A smile crept across my face. I couldn’t find the words to answer, so I grabbed a fistful of his dirty blond hair and pulled Quinn’s face to mine. My other hand drifted over his body, enjoying his tight muscles, the tension in my shoulders relaxing as he held me against that pillar and thrust.
He penetrated me in a single deep stroke. My neck bent back and I howled into the dark. No one but Quinn Delacorte could make me abandon all my senses like this.
Hot. Primal. Desperate. Quinn Delacorte drove into me like I was the only thing tethering him to earth. I wrapped my legs around his back, crossing my heels to lock them in place and pulling him deeper inside me. He held me easily, slamming my body into the rotunda with each thrust. Rough stone scraped my back, but it was nothing on the way Quinn fucked.
An orgasm tore through me like a forest fire. I threw my head back, the scream bubbling in my throat. Quinn’s hand sought my mouth, cupping his fingers across my teeth as I released my rage and heartache into the night.
“Ayaz also might have mentioned you’re a screamer,” Quinn whispered. “I like it, Hazy. I like making you scream.”
He fucked hard and fast, bringing me back to earth and then pushing me toward the stars again. A second, more intense orgasm ripped through me. I was torn in two as Quinn shuddered through his own release, his body trembling against mine as he finished with another searing kiss.
Quinn released me, setting my feet back on the quiet earth. We knelt on the ground, our bodies razed with heat, our mouths still seeking each other.
“Well now,” Quinn helped me to my feet, pulling the t-shirt back over my head. “You’ve had all the Kings of Miskatonic Prep, Hazy. Which one are you going to choose?”
I slapped him playfully around the ears. “Right now, I can’t choose any of you, not while you’re still undead and I’m still bound to be the god’s next victim.”
Quinn didn’t demand further conversation, but his words haunted me as we climbed back through the tunnel and slid into bed opposite a snoring Trey. They pulled my heart in three directions, and I didn’t see how it could possibly end well for any of us.
Would I have to choose? If so, who would it be?
Chapter Nineteen
Trey and Quinn and Andre went back to classes and pretended everything was normal while we waited for word from Sadie about Greg. Trey had been clever, waiting until he was on senior study leave to look for me. They had a week off classes to prepare for exams, so no one noticed he was missing.
I hid downstairs in their rooms, studying Rebecca’s book and eating whatever cold leftovers they could sneak me from the dining hall.
The first third of Rebecca’s book was in her hand, and that was the section I focused on. The remainder of the book appeared to have been added to over the years with diary entries and spells from women descended from Rebecca’s line, until the very back where the last entry was dated from the early 2000s. I started with Rebecca’s entries, but they mainly repeated history I’d obtained from Zehra’s files, with some added occult mumbo-jumbo thrown in for good measure.
I could barely focus on the task I’d set myself because I was so worried about Greg. I would read a couple of pages before my desperation to find Greg would get the better of me. Only I couldn’t walk around the grounds looking for him and risk being seen, so I had to sit down and keep reading.
Is he okay? Is he truly safe? Is Zehra with him? How can we find them?
It didn’t help that the rats were going nuts. It was like they knew I’d returned and were determined to make themselves known to me, just in case I could’ve somehow forgotten them. Every time I moved across the hall to Andre’s room and back again, they followed me. They circled above my head, their awful scritch-scritching pounding inside my skull.
Being invisible did have its benefits. Even though Ms. West had to know I’d escaped from Dunwich Institute, there were no additional security measures at the school. As far as I could tell, she wasn’t concerned with locating me. In fact, from what the guys told me, she was barely attending to her duties as headmistress at all. I suspected I knew where she was – hidden away in her new laboratory location communing in secret with the god or doing something horrible to Greg. Or Zehra.
I didn’t bother telling the boys what I planned to do. They’d either refuse to let me go or insist on going with me. I couldn’t risk either of those outcomes – I wouldn’t put them in any more danger to find Greg. Besides, after three days of hiding in Andre’s room while they went to classes, I had serious cabin fever.
As soon as they headed up for breakfast, I hid Rebecca’s book behind the desk, picked up the hammer and chisel we’d used on the bricks, stole out of my old room and snuck through the secret tunnel.
I emerged into the pleasure garden, keeping low to the ground as I crept along the path toward the rotunda, trying not to let the memory of what Quinn and I had done there distract me from what I had to do.
Trey’s reaction to my fire prickled against my skin. I wondered if that’s why the students liked to party here, around the grotto. Maybe they felt safe near water. Maybe their brazier was a way for them to try to control their fear, to cage and conquer it – the way Vincent and Ms. West tried to cage me.
I planned to head to the cemetery. That was where the dead Miskatonic students had been brought back to life. They’d had to dig themselves out of their graves. That wasn’t an insignificant amount of work to bury so many students. There had to be some clue there that explained how Ms. West did what she did, and maybe where she’d taken Greg. It was worth a shot.
I hoped I’d find answers.
I hoped I wouldn’t find a grave with Greg’s name on it.
As I picked my way through the narrow path and emerged at the rear of the rotunda, a sound reached my ears that turned my stomach to ash.
Voices.
Students laughed and chatted as they crowded beneath the rotunda. I’d been so absorbed in my thoughts I hadn’t seen them until I was practically on top of them. I dove into one of the overgrown garden beds, shielding myself behind a Grecian statue choked with weeds. I lay in the dirt at the bottom of the garden, my fingers grasping for the knife handle sticking out of my boot. I tried to silence my pounding heart as I strained to hear any sign they’d heard me before I dared raised my head.