Chapter One

Dirty fingers wipe blood from his chin as he disappears into the crowd. The boy is there one second and gone the next, but it is long enough for Iris’s breath to catch in her throat. It’s long enough for the satisfied smirk of a stained mouth to be seen. Iris grabs onto the arm of her best friend. 

           “What? What’s wrong?” Athena stumbles back, dodging other students heading to the party. Her eyebrows furrow above gold eyeshadow, her white goddess gown glowing against her dark complexion and blowing back in the October wind. Iris is as tall as Athena in Catwoman heels, but still puts a hand on her shoulder to look over the surrounding sea of heads. It’s no use, the man is gone.

           “There was a guy with blood on his face,” Iris says, still pointlessly searching. “I saw him wipe it away.”

           When she looks back, it’s to Athena’s incredulous stare. “Wait, you saw a vampire? On Halloween? That’s insane!”

           “There was this look on his face-”

           Athena rolls her eyes and starts walking again. Iris almost twists an ankle trying to keep up, the thought of walking alone amongst crazy-eyed clowns and boys with blood on their lips not settling well.

           “You’re always so dramatic,” Athena sighs.

They turn onto Emerson’s street and Iris feels a bit more relaxed with the familiar house looming in the foreground, though her eyes never stop scanning side to side.

The mansion is rapidly filling, freshmen and sophomores getting off on the excitement of underage drinking and the upperclassmen trying to  forget approaching midterms. They collect like puddles in front of the house, shoes sinking into the only lawn on the block that isn’t brown and patchy, swaying to the beat of the bass that can be felt from the sidewalk. Strobe lights flick colors across the tall front windows.

Iris and Athena both shake their heads amusedly and go inside. If there is one thing learned by making it three years at University, it’s that absolutely no one throws a party like Emerson Emsworth.

Emerson’s parents are loaded. They fund nearly every department at the college, like to ignore the fact that Emerson doesn’t fit into their pre-made mold, and they would never allow anything grander than a quiet dinner party with close friends who have wallets just as thick as their noses are high. But luckily for their son, business takes them out of town three weekends out of the month and it is taken full advantage of.

It’s as if the whole county made an appearance, a sea of people filling the place wall to wall. Fog billows across the floor and out into the night as they push their way into the house and there’s some sort of fake spider web or red-eyed monster attached to every wall. Athena and Iris grip each other’s hands as they search for familiar faces and the one with blood is soon forgotten as they pass a dozen more with just as much gore.

In the midst of the disorienting lights and house music, there’s a single voice that demands to be heard above it all.

“My goddess! My flower!” Emerson calls to them from the kitchen, a bottle of tequila held above his head. “The party has arrived, everybody!”

The crowd grows impossibly louder with cheering and hollering for more shots to be poured. Emerson tries to climb onto the bar, fighting against the hands pulling him down. When Athena and Iris get to him they are wrapped in a hug that sways like a boat on stormy seas.

“Whoa, I think the party may have arrived a long time ago,” Athena says, practically holding him up. Iris grabs the glass bottle before it falls through his slack grip. “Why don’t we go sit down for a minute?”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” comes another voice through the chaos, a British accent standing out amongst the rest. Iris spins around to see her boyfriend sauntering towards them. He’s in last year’s football uniform, but the jersey has been cut haphazardly just above his belly button. “He’s been trying to mount everything he’s seen for the past twenty minutes. Including me.”

That makes Emerson leave Athena’s arms in order to lean against the white marble island, resting a chin on his hand and winking. “One day, Sage, you will succumb to the spell I cast.” He arches his back provocatively and it is then that Iris registers what he is wearing, as the cheerleading skirt slips higher up his thighs.

“I don’t think so, mate,” Sage replies with a laugh, making his way around the island to slip an arm around Iris’s waist. “I’ve long been cast beneath another.”

He licks his lips, green eyes glassy and dark from intoxication, but the slanted smile he gives still makes Iris weak at the knees. Brown hair curls to his shoulders and she pulls one of the spirals before letting her hand fall to what is left of his shirt.

“I love the matching costumes, by the way.”

He rolls his eyes and glances over at Emerson who has now found another bottle and is making his way back into the living room while Athena grips her dress and runs after him, officially on Emerson duty.

“I lost a bet. Do you like his handy work?” he asks, shimmying slightly to make the shorn fabric sway.

Iris hums, trying to keep nonchalance, but her fingers trace over the muscle gained from endless football practice and games and she knows the want is showing clear on her face. All of these years and it’s still there, the constant thrumming attraction for this boy.

They kiss there in the kitchen, her back digging into the bar as other party goers make their drinks. Sage’s hands roam over her black bodysuit until it has him groaning and pulling back.

“Only you would show me everything whilst covering every inch of skin at the same time.”

Iris laughs and pokes his belly. “I guess I have Emerson to thank for this. What was the bet you lost?”

“As cocky as your man is,” Emerson announces with slurring words, having somehow undetectably made his way back to them, throwing an arm around Sage’s shoulder. “He, in fact, can not handle five shots in ten seconds.”

And then Emerson is in a headlock, the hands on Iris’s waist gone, and she watches the drunk boys wrestle and stumble into the crowd, people cheering them on as they disappear. She trails the end of her laugh with a swig from the tequila bottle she’s still holding, wincing against the burn but ready for the fuzzy pool it will sink her brain into. When she turns to set it back onto the bar top she stops in her tracks, a jolt of shock freezing her in place.

It’s the man from the street. He’s standing in the middle of the room, still against the moving crowd, staring at her.

Run, her brain commands. Find Sage. But she can’t, because there’s a feeling that washes over her and smothers any response of fight or flight. She knows this man. The way he stays stoic, as if the whole world around him has disappeared, the party dissolved into dust. Iris can’t run, can’t even look away, because it’s all so familiar. When a hand grabs her elbow, she jerks away, heart rabbiting against her chest.

Cameron steps back, holding up defensive hands. “Whoa, what’s going on?” he asks, brown eyes concerned and looking out at where Iris had been staring. The boy is turning to leave, but not without another look over his shoulder. A chill dances over Iris’s arms. “Was he bothering you?”

Iris shakes her head and turns from the crowd, focussing on Cameron and trying to push away the burning feeling on the back of her head. She hadn’t felt unsafe, is the thing. Creeped out, maybe, but not like her life was in danger. Her instinct was telling her to run, that a man staring so intently could never have good intentions, but something else in her was magnetizing her closer because she knows him.

So she replies with, “No, no, just zoned out, I guess.”

With Cameron there, Iris does feel more at ease, though. From the moment Sage made his mark on the football team they had always been a source of protection for her, so she steps closer to Cameron and doesn’t look back behind her.

“Sage is looking for you,” he says, reaching over her for a drink to fill his cup with. “I told him you shouldn’t be hard to find and I was right, as usual.”

Iris nods towards the line of alcohol. “Yeah, just drowning my junior year stress.”

He lifts his cup to the ceiling. “Cheers to that.”

Before the cup reaches his lips someone is taking it from him and slinging an arm around his shoulders. Sage downs the drink in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.

“Thanks for the drink, Cam.” He chuckles as he pushes the empty cup back into Cameron’s hands. “Now stop flirting with my girlfriend. There are plenty of other birds for you chase elsewhere.”

“Just say chicks, bro. And I wasn’t flirting with your girl. I was saving her life.”

Sage is pushed from the shoulder he’s resting on and his face scrunches up. “What do you mean?”

“Some dude was staring at her and I scared him off. So, you’re welcome.” Cameron throws the cup at Sage’s head and laughs at his delayed reaction, his hand coming up to block it a few seconds too late. Sage doesn’t laugh, though. He frowns at Iris.

“What dude? Why was he staring at you?” His full attention on her now as she shoves the glass tequila bottle into Cameron’s arms. She gives him a warning look before turning back to her intoxicated boyfriend.

“Who knows? He was probably drunk or on something anyways.” She brushes it off and wraps an arm around his torso, letting his hang around her shoulders.

Sage has two settings when he is drunk: funny and wild or protective and watchful. It’s easy to see the change. His shoulders square, his chest pushing out to make his frame even larger, and his usual drunk, flirty face hardens. He has never been violent, but Iris knows that if provoked he would never back down from a fight. Thankfully, a drunk Sage is also easy to distract.

“Let’s go dance,” she purrs into his ear. Cameron raises an eyebrow at his teammate, taking a swig of tequila and patting Sage on the back as he is led to the dance floor.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

~~*~~

           “Em, come on, get down from there,” Athena coaxes as she watches her friend clumsily climb onto his family dining room table. His perfect, new white tennis shoe knocks into the glass vase centerpiece and Athena feels her heart stop as she catches it seconds before shards of turquoise and indigo covered the floor.

            “Join me, Athena!” He laughs as his hips swing to the music and gains even more encouragement from the people watching, taking a cup from a rogue Deadpool.

            “Everyone can see up your skirt, Emerson.”

            “I’m giving the people a glimpse of heaven!”

The crowd roars and the music is turned up, shaking the walls.

“Fine. Stay up there. But I’m not responsible for where these videos of you end up.” She rolls her eyes and turns to go enjoy the party herself. Just as she pushes into the crowd, a foot catches her dress, snagging her backwards a few steps. A shoulder slams into hers and she’s spun around, the flashing lights tricking her mind. Like the roof is caving in, a horrifying feeling falls over her, quickening her heart and beading her skin. It pulls her attention to a body moving through the crowd. His broad shoulders are shrouded in black, his head low. He weaves around people like a shadow.

Once the boy is gone from sight, Athena pushes her way through the crowd with not nearly as much grace. She wants to run but keeps her gait steady as she scans for Iris. The immediate panic of the moment passed as quickly as it came but the burning feeling of danger is still flickering in her limbs. She is tense with urgency, the even beat of the bass now the ticking of a bomb.

Iris is found swaying in the living room, connected with Sage at the lips, and usually the sight would fill Athena with jealousy, but tonight she is just thankful to see Iris standing and alive.

“We need to go home,” Athena says, tugging Iris from Sage. Iris looks around, eyes dazed.  

“What?”

“We need to leave. Now.”

“What’s going on?” Sage speaks up, and when Athena glances over at him he is staring at her intently, still swaying from the alcohol, but prepared to fight whoever Athena may need him to. “Did someone hurt you?”

Athena swallows harshly, throat dry, and shakes her head. “I don’t feel good.”

Iris nods to her friend and watches her with concerned eyes. “I was thinking of heading back soon anyways.”

“Well you’re not walking home alone,” Sage slurs, wrapping his arms around them both as they head towards the door. The presence, usually heart skipping and exhilarating, is nothing but comforting tonight. She pretends to move closer for warmth as they step out into the open.

The farther from the party she gets, the better she feels, pressing desperation ebbing. They are all quiet as they walk from one streetlight to the next, the sounds of the party fading until only the scuff of shoes and click of heels can be heard. Sage is quiet because it is taking all of his concentration to keep one foot in front of the other, but Iris seems more sober than not and her eyes are jumping from side to side, much like Athena’s. Suddenly the man with blood on his face that Iris had seen doesn’t seem like such a joke to Athena anymore. The wind feels like fingers brushing the nape of her neck.   

She’s about to say something, but as they turn towards the female dorm building Sage’s shoe catches on the pavement, nearly sending his face into the dirt, and Athena thinks better of it as she and Iris straighten him back up. Before she figures out if the man truly is a threat, she’d rather not get Sage involved. He would take it into his own hands if he thought the girls were in trouble, and it wouldn’t be surprising if he investigated the guy fist first.

“Alright, ladies,” Sage announces too loudly when they reach the double doored entrance. “Who is ready to witness these panty dropping moves in action?” He does a little shimmy in front of two unamused faces and Iris pokes a finger into his chest.

“Say that again and the only thing that will be dropping is your relationship status. And your ego.”

“Ooh,” Sage smirks and makes a clawing motion with his hand. “Kitty’s feisty.”

Athena pretends to gag, moving past them and into the building, letting out a breath of relief as the warmth of security melts tension from her body. The footsteps of her two friends  echo hers as she hops up the stairwell and they take a moment for Sage to gather himself before they step into the hallway because when they do, as expected, Emma the RA is there to greet them.

Her wavy blonde hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, arms crossed and lips pursed. Iris and Athena share a look before glancing to Sage. Once their gazes land back on Emma, they both open their mouths to speak but she speaks first.

“Sage, you know the rules. Boys are not allowed to stay overnight in the girl dorms.” Emma shakes her head, ponytail swaying behind her. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be annoying or anything, but it’s just the rules, you know.” She adds when Sage pouts at her. Iris raises an eyebrow at this, watching as Emma tries to discreetly take in Sage’s rather revealing attire.

“But they can’t take me home and I can’t get home alone like this. Just one night?” He asks, keeping up his pouting lip. Emma makes an impressively weak attempt at protesting, rolling her eyes and pushing her chest up with her forearms.

“Well, I suppose I’ll let it slide. But just this once!” she says with a wink.

Sage flashes his award winning smile. “Thanks, Emma! I owe you.” He lets his eyes trail over her body as they pass until Iris’s elbow digs into his ribs. When they turn to go down another hallway, Sage spins to face the girls and throws his arms out. “And that is how it’s done.”

“Why do I even put up with you?” Iris laughs and moves in to wrap her arm around his waist again, his arm circling her shoulders as she drags him off to the dorm with Athena trailing behind.

“Because you’d be lost without me.” He grins and leans into her side more, playfully winking at her. Athena keeps her stare locked on the floor.

Once they get to the dorm, Sage is asleep before his head hits the pillow and the room is silent as Iris and Athena change. The feeling of imminent danger has left Athena and she’s ready to forget it ever happened as she crawls beneath her comforting, warm blankets, when Iris speaks up and brings the cold back in.

“You know that guy I saw tonight? The one with blood on his chin?” she whispers into the dark. Athena blinks over at the faint outline of the other bed that she can still make out.

“The vampire? You aren’t still creeped out, are you?” she whispers back, trying to sound playful when really she needs to know if she’s alone in feeling as if she could look through the gap in the window curtain and find a hooded man staring back.

“I saw him again, at the party, I saw him.”

“There were a lot of people there. You probably saw someone who looked like him or something. I doubt it was actually him. Anyway, you’re in bed and safe with your linebacker boyfriend to protect you,” the laugh she attempts dies off too soon. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

As she speaks the words of comfort they taste like a lie, the remnants of sickening fright curling her stomach. She waits for Iris’s breathing to grow slow and heavy before rising to pull the gap in the curtains closed.