Page 87 of Rage
“Is it that obvious?”
“A little.”
I look around again. “A little?”
He laughs. “Okay. Extremely obvious.”
The crowd parts briefly. And that’s when I see it. The pool. The entire back wall of the house is glass.
Beyond it, an infinity pool stretches across the terrace overlooking the woods. Hidden lights glow beneath the water. Deep crimson. Not blue. Red.
The surface shifts slowly. Liquid scarlet. Like blood moving beneath glass. The reflection spills across the terrace. Across the surrounding stone. Across the faces of students gathered around the edge. The effect is beautiful. And deeply unsettling.
I can’t stop staring. “What is with the red?”
Elliot follows my gaze. “The Vikiars designed it. It’s a signature thing when it comes to all the sons of Kenyan. Apparently, they all have pools.”
That explains absolutely nothing.
He shrugs. “They’re weird.”
The water ripples. The crimson reflections move across the glass walls and black marble floors. For one strange second, it looks like the entire house is breathing. Like blood is circulating beneath it. A chill slides down my spine. The music changes, and “Contaminated” by Banks plays.
People cheer somewhere near the terrace. A girl laughs. Someone breaks a glass. But something about the house feels wrong. Not dangerous. Just...
Hungry.
Like it was built for people who never hear the word no. Elliot is saying something, but I miss it.
Because movement above catches my attention. Third floor on the balcony. Someone stands overlooking the party. A large shadow and it’s obvious they’re alone.
Everyone else is moving. Talking. Drinking. Laughing.
The shadow moves, and my heart starts pounding inside my chest.
Saint’s massive broad shoulders are on display like a work of art. He’s wearing a black tank top and a thin necklace.
He stands motionless.
The red glow from the pool rises through the glass below him, painting the underside of his face in crimson shadows. For a moment, he looks less like a student and more like something carved into the building itself.
His gaze finds mine instantly, as if he already knew exactly where I would be. That I would show up.
Just for a second, the noise of the party fades. The entire world narrows to the distance between us.
Saint doesn’t smile. He doesn’t move. He simply watches. The same way he watched me in the lecture hall. The library. The courtyard. The difference is that now I understand something I didn’t before. This isn’t a man hiding in shadows. This is a man standing at the center of a world I don’t understand, and somehow everyone else already knows it.
A group of students approaches the balcony. Saint says something, and they immediately leave. No argument. No hesitation. The power in that simple exchange unsettles me more than anything else I’ve seen tonight.
Elliot notices where I’m looking. His smile disappears. “Oh.”
“What?”
His eyes remain fixed on the balcony. “Nothing.”
“It’s obviously something.”
Elliot exhales slowly. “Let’s just say if Saint is watching you...”
