Page 36 of Bite Me

“Either you like this, or you’re scared, and I know better than to think Emma Osborne is scared of me.”

I finger the strap of her dress. She watches, breathing through her nose and shaking her head.

“I’m drunk. You’re drunk. It’s nonsense. You hate me.”

And yet, for some reason, she doesn’t hate me.

“You sure? I don’t hate the way you smell. Or the way your pulse is getting louder and louder. There are lots of things I don’t hate about you, even if you are a thief.”

The thing I love the most is the fire in her eyes when I call her that.

“I’m not as naive as you think.”

“Let me walk you back to Luxxia.” I make one last attempt as she waves Luther over.

“Now, why would you do that when the fun is just about to start?” Luther says, grabbing another beer off the counter.

“Oh? Fun?” Emma’s smile brightens with excitement.

She won’t be smiling in a few minutes.

“It’s time for initiation.”

Chapter Twelve

Emma

I scratch at the cuff of my costume and stare in horror at the mess I’ve stumbled into. Verity instructed me to go into an empty Solexxa room and change into my “uniform” for the night. I examine myself in a maid’s costume, fitted with long black sleeves and white cuffs. It’s hemmed way too short. I tug at it as I slip on my stockings and wrestle my feet into a set of black heels, my buzz gradually dissipating into nothing but anxious anticipation.

Luther promised fun, and the night was off to a promising start, but now I’m having doubts.

I follow the instructions, finding my way to the room at the end of the hall, which is the Solexxa dining room. Thankfully, the party doesn’t appear to have reached what reminds me of a lawyer’s boardroom. There are no windows, only a floor-to-ceiling fish tank that covers the entire left wall and illuminates the room in a murky green haze. In the middle of the floor is a long, rectangular dining table lit with candles and covered with appetizers, bread, and butter.

Dacre’s attention is all encompassing as our eyes meet. He’s at the head of the table. On his left sits Verity with her feet propped up, and on his right, Luther is carrying on the loudest conversation in the room. I don’t remember the names of the others at the table, but a few faces I recall from my tour and the party. This is my first culinary club meeting, and I look like an idiot standing at the edge of the room.

Dacre is the only one who notices my presence, at least until I take a step toward the table.

“What do we think?” It takes an effort to push my voice to its usual level of pep.

The room breaks out into whispers and some laughter that grows when Luther starts banging his hand on the table like an animal. My chest tightens. I let out a breath. This might be the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done, but it’s all in good fun, right? These people are going to be my friends. Verity told me everyone who joins the club has to go through initiation. Well, other than Dacre. So this must be something they do for fun, and I’m nothing if not fun.

I half expect to see a smug, satisfied smirk on Dacre’s face. But nothing budges that unreadable mask as he rubs a hand under his chin.

The green aquarium light twists Luther’s usual smile into something more sinister. Here, he feels different. My heartbeat is erratic as he motions for me to approach, and I stumble in my heels. The alcohol is still very much doing the job of keeping me calm, or else I might be freaking out. The safety and assurance my family smothers me with is a little too far away for my liking. I was instructed to leave my phone with my clothes, and the Emma who is sobering up second by second is regretting that decision.

I’m alone in a sea of sharks.

“Let’s have a drink,” Dacre says, motioning to a drink cart at the other end of the room. “Bring me that bottle from the shelf and two glasses.”

“Two!? I want one,” Luther says.

“I’m starting off the night. You’ll get your turn to order her around,” Dacre snaps.

Order me around? All night? So the maid costume is definitely for humiliation.

Okay, Emma, don’t panic. I need to appear unbothered.

“Do I really have to do everything you say?” I fetch the cart, and it wobbles along with me.