“Say less,” Ryan says before the call even finishes. Fred just shrugs like she’s already halfway to the door.
“Wha-where did she go?” Athens looks around like Fred vanished into thin air.
“She’s probably doing the one thing you struggle with, listening.” I grin. “And here I was, thinking you deserved a reward for being such a good little toy.”
“I told you, I’m not a good girl,” she says, head tilting in challenge.
“No,” I murmur, grabbing her face again. “You’re not.”
My voice drops to that velvet-gloved threat I know makes her clench. “You’re a filthy, obedient, little fucking slut.”
Her breath hitches.
Then I kiss her hard, rough, possessive, claiming every breath she tries to keep for herself.
“Oh my god,ew!” Fred’s voice bursts through the phone like a slap. “I donotwant to see Wyck’s tongue down your throat. I will never recover from this. I’m hanging up now. Byyeeeeeee.”
The call ends and Athens stares at the phone like she forgot she’d even called.
“What was I saying?” she asks, lips swollen, dazed from the kiss.
“You were saying you’re leaving before I drag you upstairs and make you regret mouthing off.”
She stumbles a little as she heads toward the door. “See you later.”
“Not if I see you first.”
I watch her disappear down the hall, bare legs flashing beneath her dress. Before she even hits the stairs, Zeke steps out of the shadows like the fucking phantom he is and offers her his arm. She takes it, because of course she does.
My attention shifts as the air around me sharpens.
They’re here.
My brothers, Karter, Wells, Dash, and Onyx, flank me like wolves scenting blood.
“Devils of Cliffside,” I say, pulling my mask into place, “you ready to burn it all down?”
“Fucking right we are,” Karter snarls.
I glance at the custom masks in their hands, all obsidian and bone, all teeth and terror.
“Good. Put them on.”
Because tonight?
Tonight we remind this world what it means to dance with a Devil.
I step into the center of the raised platform, the closest thing to a stage we’d allow in this kind of hell. The music cuts. The writhing crowd stills. And for the first time all night, silence reigns.
Perfect.
Their masked faces tilt toward me like starving wolves waiting for the kill. I raise my glass, voice low and commanding. “Glad you all showed up tonight. I figured if we were gonna celebrate the Devils of Cliffside, we’d do it right. Drinks. Blood. And maybe a few body bags, yeah?”
A few cheers ripple out, ragged and slurred. Most are too drunk, too high, or too stupid to realize how real this shit’s about to get.
“Some of you came for the promise on the flyer,” I continue. “Good. Because we don’t break promises. Webreak people.” My words hit hard. A roar erupts like we just triggered a blood ritual.
“Let’s have some fucking fun first!” I shout, and they howl like the feral creatures we’ve raised them to be.
