Page 41 of Hellebore

“Remember—” Lucille says as we turn onto the long dirt road leading to the old warehouse in the middle of the woods. “—don’t be alone. Stay where everyone can see you and don’t go off with any guy.”

“Yes, I know,” I reply. “But I want you to have fun. Get some hot dude, please.”

She shakes her head, laughing. “We’ll see.”

The first thing we notice is the lights cutting through the dark, moonless sky, two bright beams mirroring blood-red eyes in the distance. Cars are parked haphazardly outside the old warehouse, everyone dressed in black. Vampires, werewolves, skull masks, and sexy kittens moving through the fog.

The warehouse itself is all rusted steel and rotting wood, ivy crawling up the walls. We step out into the cold night air and head toward the entrance. A few guys whistle as we pass. None of them look like the man in the picture. But it’s just a picture…

Inside, the place feels out of this world. Old couches, wooden chairs and tables scattered around, makeshift bars serving beer and whiskey. The DJ booth is an old truck with massive speakers on either side. People are already dancing, making out, laughing in the crimson glow.

“Two beers.” Lucille orders. I nod. Whiskey is too strong tonight, I need to stay sharp.

We drink, dance, sing along, and for a little while I let everything go. No stalker. No flowers. No fear. Just the music, the smoke, and my best friend.

A slow song starts and a guy dressed as an old-school vampire asks Lucille to dance. I nod and smile, giving her space, but stay in her line of sight as we agreed.

I head to the bar for another beer. It hits my bladder fast. I catch Lucille’s eye, point to the bathroom, and mouth “Pee.” She laughs and nods.

I wait in line, do my business, wash my hands, and step back out into the hallway.

The moment I round the corner, a gloved hand clamps over my mouth and a strong arm wraps around my waist, pulling me into the shadows.

I scream against his palm.

The greenest eyes I’ve ever seen lock onto mine. Black messy hair falls across part of his face. A black mask hides the rest. He’s tall, broad, dressed entirely in black.

My legs buckle. Tears spill down my cheeks as I scream again into his hand.

“Shhh…” His deep voice slides over me, low and dangerously intimate. “Easy, my love. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”

He leans closer, breath warm against my ear, the words slow and reverent, almost worshipful.

“You look like night itself given form, a dark queen born to rule the shadows.”

He leans closer, his mask rubbing my face gently, his manly scent fills my lungs.

“You belong in my darkness, where even the light can’t find you.”

He spins me slowly until my chest is against his, my head hitting solid muscle. I look up and meet those forest-green eyes. There’s a smirk in them that glints like a predator’s in the dark.

“Did you think about my proposal, Briar?” he asks, eyes never leaving mine.

I shake my head frantically.

“Too bad,” he murmurs, almost tenderly. “I could make every filthy, shadowed fantasy in that pretty head come true.”

A violent chill races down my spine. His voice is pure dark silk—deep, commanding, edged with something unhinged.

He’s twice my size and strong. I can’t move an inch.

I try to speak. He tightens his hold.

“Behave,” he orders softly.

He slowly moves his hand from my mouth to my throat, not squeezing, just resting there, a heavy, possessive warning. His fingers brush my skin.

“You’re a stalker,” I manage, voice trembling as I try to push away. His arm around my waist only tightens. “I’ll call the cops on you.”