Inferno Anthology (120 page)

Luke peruses his menu. “Cheese chips, please.”

“Oh” —I scramble to pull out my notepad—“right. Cheese chips. And for you?” I examine Jeanie in this close proximity. She looks like your average harmless skank,
nice
even, like she might say sorry after she gave you VD.

“Same.” She waves me off and leans heavily into Luke as Thing One and Thing Two campaign shamelessly for his attention—by the way, Luke totally looks as if he’s enjoying it. Figures. Typical perv. And Cole thought this guy was an upgrade from Bryson? As if.

“Excuse me?” Jeanie cuts me a look that spells
die bitch
. “Do you have a staring problem?”

“Oh, no. Actually—”

“Just get our food would you?” Her ruby red lips snarl up at me as if warning me to keep my girl parts from her potential sheet-shaking session.

Luke looks up at me, his eyes expanding with embarrassment.

“Um…I was going to introduce myself,” I say, hesitantly as Thing One and Thing Two cheer me on with their incessant quivers. “I’m
Baya Brighton
.” I annunciate carefully in an effort to talk over the music blaring from the speakers.

Jeanie leans back and glares at me as if I’ve just firmly lodged a knife in her horizontal hula plans for the evening.

“Well,
we
really don’t. Give. A. Shit.” She smacks Luke on the shoulder as she breaks out in a cackle.

“You know”—Luke shakes his head in disgust—“cancel my order, Baya.” He stands and leans in. “Sorry about that.” Luke takes off, leaving a horny as hell and just as pissed Jeanie Waters in his wake.

“Thanks a fucking lot.” She stands toe to toe with me as if I might actually entertain the idea of a bar brawl with her and her quivering tits—and, for a moment, I do.

“Looks like the magician pulled a disappearing act.” My lips give a wicked curl, and I don’t stop them. “Anyway, I was just trying to tell you that
I’m
your roommate.”

“At Prescott?” Her forehead breaks out in three narrow lines of confusion.

“Yes,” I nod. “At
Prescott
.”

Jeanie reaches to the next table and snatches the electric blue concoction Holt was working on earlier and thrusts it in my face. A small circle of gasps break out around us followed by a random round of applause while I blink and choke on the volatile brew.

“You
bitch
.” I hold my arms out as the blue sugared goop drips down my fingers.

“That’s what you get for reporting me to the housing authority.” Thing One and Thing Two peek out from their frilly, lacy storehouse, surprised by this turn of events, because, clearly, I’ve offended them. “That was my
second
strike, by the way. One more and I’m out on my ass, and I’ll be freaking homeless at Whitney Briggs.” She stalks off for the exit.

“Join the club,” I shout after her. “And I didn’t say anything”—it comes out weak—“my brother did.”

“Look at you.” Laney appears and starts mopping up my chest with a dishrag. “Making new friends already.” She dabs at my cleavage before making a face. “I think she died your skin blue. Oh, what the hell. It’s Halloween. You could be a Smurf.”

“Smurf.” I sniff into the idea. “And she’s the one worried about being homeless?” I shake my head incredulously as visions of her fornicating behind trashcans out in Founders Square blink through my mind. “Yeah, well, if I don’t get into Alpha Chi, I’ll be the one who’s freaking homeless at Whitney Briggs.” Well, not quite. I glance over at Bryson who seems to have thankfully missed the exchange due to the fact an entire gaggle of gorgeous girls have amassed around him. And sadly, tonight, we’ll have to go into covert ops if we plan on shaking the sheets ourselves. Just the thought of getting it on with my brother in the next room is enough to kill my lady boner.

Crap.

I’m pretty sure whatever the pearl wearing, evening gown toting Aubree Vincent has planned for me to do this evening, I will. I’ll leap through a thousand hoops of fire if I have to.

Like it or not, I’m Aubree’s little bitch tonight.

Happy fucking Halloween.

The moon hangs high over Hollow Brook like a silver scale as I drive Laney’s sedan to “the bridge” just shy of midnight.

“Where the hell is the bridge, anyway?” I whisper. Laney gave me weird directions, but once she mentioned it was just past the Witch’s Cauldron, I figured I could find it easily enough. She mentioned it was where Alpha Chi does all their bridging ceremonies. She also said she was secretly rooting for me
not
to get in—that too many oysters would be harmed if I did, per the mandatory pearl necklaces. She suggested I fashion Aubree’s demon strand into a noose and hang her from the highest bough, what with no witnesses around and all, but I balked at the idea. Aubree’s bitchy behavior is a small price to pay when crystal chandeliers and my own swanky sorority suite hang in the bounds. Plus, I don’t mind pearls. It’s not like they’re going to force me to wear them twenty-four seven. I’m just thrilled I’ll be living in a mini-mansion, far, far away from Jeanie and her never-ending bump and grind.

The Witch’s Cauldron comes up on my right, and visions of Bryson and his magic fingers working me into a sexual fervor take over my senses. God. I roll my head from side to side. I can practically feel his lips branding themselves over my neck, his hard abs pushed tight against my body—that amazing feeling I get when he’s high up inside me—well, other than the burning and the ripping.

I let out a breath as I park on the ridge behind the boulders. A dull smile plays on my lips. This is our spot. I can see the vapors emitting from the hot spring, and I’d like to think it’s steaming up from the memory of the two of us writhing over one another in the tiny heated well.

I get out of the car and stare at the dusty trail. Laney said to follow it up the stream about five minutes, and that when I see Aubree’s ugly face, I’ll know I made it.

I take off on the dusty path lit up with the powder-soft glow of the moon and trek for what feels like miles in my patent leather FM’s. It hadn’t even occurred to me to bring a pair of flip-flops for the trip—or a sweater since it’s cold enough to freeze the nipples right off my body.

The flicker of a candle glows up ahead, and I make out a suspension bridge that spans the length of the stream at its widest point. The water flows pretty wild, and every now again a wave hits the rocks and sprays me with the icy wash. The haze is markedly thicker up here. The scent of night jasmine lights up my senses, and I take a deep breath just to trap the sweet fragrance in my lungs.

I spot a flame of blonde hair in the center of the bridge and wave.

The moon shines over a rusted out sign that reads,
Danger! Keep off
.

Figures. I bet wicked sorority sisters like Aubree are always looking to
up
the casket potential in any given situation, after all this is rush. Clearly a hazing of the acrobatic variety is about to take place.

I step onto the slatted bridge, and the entire length of it oscillates wildly. God, I hate these kinds of bridges. Once, when we were kids, we went on one at an amusement park, and Cole and a bunch of his bully friends waited until I got to the middle before jumping up and down on both ends. Assholes—assholes in
training
to be exact.

I grab ahold of the rope railing on the left and note it’s missing on the right side. One good bounce and I’m guaranteed an ice bath. Great. I’ll get to wash off the sticky blue liquid Jeanie christened me with by way of throwing my clothes over the rocks with my body still in them.

“Be careful,” Aubree sings it like a taunt. “Take it slow. We have all night.”

“Maybe you do,” I whisper under my breath. But I’ve got some seriously hot kisses to collect in about three hours. If I’m lucky, and with Bryson I usually am, he’ll have me purring until the sun comes up. I’m up for some delicious tricks and treats tonight, and not one of them concerns Aubree Vincent.

By some small miracle, I manage to hoof my way over, and not until I’m inches from her bare feet do I realize that I, too, could have taken off my shoes.

“Here I am.” I hold out a hand victoriously.

“So you are.” She smirks. “Did you come alone?”

“Just me, myself, and I.” I wanted to say,
no Aubree. I have Bryson. Coming alone is what you do.
But I don’t think she’d find it funny.

“Good.” She darts a suspicious eye out to the black forest behind me.

“Did
you
come alone?” Somehow I find her need to trek out to the middle of nowhere suspicious and more than slightly creepy in a chainsaw massacre kind of way.

“Of course—” She bites down on her lip. “I didn’t. I’ve got half a dozen sisters in the woods behind me. I need them to witness your pledge since you’ll soon be a member of the most sought after sorority on the East Coast.”

“Really?” My heart races. “So I’m in?”

“You’re in.” Her lips dig into her cheek just this side of a smile. “Repeat these words loud and clear. At Alpha Chi there is no me, there’s just my sisters—the ultimate
we
.”

God, that’s stupid. I repeat the chant at the top of my lungs like a private in the army, shouting it into the face of her overly zealous drill sergeant.

“Good. Now all you have to do is partake of the bonding libation.” Aubree gleams a black smile as she plucks a small cup no bigger than a toothpaste cap from her fanny pack.

Fanny pack, huh? I would have expected something a little more chic from the queen of mean with a passion for uptight fashion, but, nonetheless, a luxury suite at Casa We-Chi waits for me at the end of this rainbow in the dark.

I peer into the tiny cup, and a gelatinous quiver stares back at me.

“Jell-O shots?” I balk at the midnight offering, but really I shouldn’t. It’s low-key compared to half the crap I would have easily agreed to. She clearly has no clue how much power she wields. She could have had me streaking across campus with leeches strategically placed over my body if she wanted.

“That’s the last step, and you’re in.” The smile slides off her face as if that weren’t the intent of the invitation after all. “Heard you had an exciting weekend with the Prescott Hall
book
club
.” Her lips curl in a snarl.

“Actually, I was with my boyfriend.” I really don’t give a shit if she knows. After all, Alpha Pee is all about honesty, right?

Her eyes harden over mine. “It must be nice to have finally nailed down the ever elusive Bryson Edwards.”

Had I mentioned to her that I was seeing Bryson? Something about the way she says his name has me on edge.

“Let’s get moving.” She livens with a tiny smile. “This is the final initiation that every sister has to undergo.” She pushes the tiny nightcap toward me, and I try to look impressed.

“So that’s it? I down it, and I’m in? It’s not loaded with blood is it?” Not that I’m opposed to drinking human plasma at midnight when my own private luxury suite is on the line. Plus, I’ll never have to apologize to Thing One and Thing Two for ruining their chances with Luke Carter. In fact, I’ll never have to look at Jeanie Waters’ obnoxiously large nipples again.

“No, you nitwit, there’s no blood in it.” Her lips twitch. “Go ahead and knock it back. I’ve got places to be tonight.”

I lick my lips a moment. Then it hits me. This is a
Jell
-
O
shot
. “There’s no alcohol in this, right?” I ask stupidly. Crap. I haven’t had a sip of anything even remotely fermented after my father died, not a moment before either. Cole never felt that strongly about it to initiate some self-imposed alcohol ban, then again, I was younger when it happened. I was daddy’s special girl.

“Of course, not. Do you think I’d waste some premium Grey Goose on a loser like you? Just swallow the thing so we can both get off this damn bridge.”

“Did you just call me a loser?” I’d throw the cup in her face like Jeanie did to me earlier, but it wouldn’t have the same effect.

“No I called you a
boozer
.” She rolls her eyes. “Look, do you want the spot in Alpha Chi or not?”

“I guess.” I run my tongue over the concoction, and the happy taste of artificially flavored strawberries greets me—not that I’d know what vodka tastes like.

“See?” She balks into me. “Just pinch it back. It practically glides down on its own. The sisters are waiting. If you don’t do this, you can’t get in.”

I give the small cap a squeeze, and the concoction jumps down my throat as promised. I swallow hard, and it all goes down in one smooth lump.

“I did it,” I marvel. And, it didn’t taste like anything, so I don’t really feel like I went back on my word not to inebriate myself at random. “So I guess we’re done,” I say, eyeing the dirt road from where I came, and the bridge splices in two for a moment. My arms and legs feel like they weigh a million pounds, and I’m suddenly exhausted beyond belief.

“I’d better go.” She touches her pearls as if petting a kitten. “Say, you didn’t happen to mention any of this to that hot boy-toy of yours, did you?”