Filed To Story: Pretty Poisoned Novel by Elle Mitchell
“Teagan is reading us a story,” Declan says.
“Well, okay,” she says. She shrugs, seemingly indifferent as she walks past me, then settles into Declan’s lap.
It’s going to be a very long three hours.
It’s already dark, and I’m an overstimulated nightmare by the time we begin winding up the driveway to the secluded mansion in Idaho. I knew the De Rossi brothers came from money; I’ve driven through the Hollywood Hills, and I’ve seen the homes on the cliffs overlooking Laguna Beach, but still the sight of it takes me by surprise. Even without the context, I think the home would seem ominous. Why would some wealthy international businessman choose such a secluded location? What would it be like to grow up here?
How did they turn into this?
The driveway ends in a loop in front of the main entrance which is already lined with cars and maybe fifty people waiting in the yard.
“The welcoming party,” River says to me. “Gotta get it over with. Hope you’re ready for this.”
“What is this?” I ask. “Locals? Fans?”
“Mmm maybe a little of both. But mostly, like-minded individuals. They’ll be gone by tomorrow for the most part.”
I want to ask what that means, but before I can, the bus pulls to a stop, and she gets up and walks toward the bedroom to gather her things.
“The bus won’t stay here, so make sure you get everything,” she says. “Unless you don’t want to see it for a while.”
“Right. Okay.”
I grab the last of my things and toss them into my bag, then throw it over my shoulder and follow River and Hazel out of the room.
“Phones,” Declan says. He opens one of the cabinets, which is actually a safe, and everyone hands over their phone on the way out.
He holds out his hand as I pass, and, reluctantly, I set my phone in his palm. “It’s for your own good,” he says.
“I’m sure it is.” I turn and gesture to the crowd of people in front of the house. “What about all of them? Are you going to take their phones, too?”
“They know the rules,” he says. “If they try to bring a phone into my house, I’ll take a lot more than that.”
Somehow resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I step off the bus, joining the crowd around the door. I finally see Luca for the first time since this morning, making his way through the crowd, embracing friends, smiling.
I haven’t seen Layla since last night, either. She passes in front of me now, before stopping in Declan’s path as he steps off the bus. I watch her lips move but can’t make out what she’s saying. Whatever it is, Declan isn’t interested. He dismisses her wordlessly and steps around her.
She watches him leave with those eyes againthose cold, sad, lifeless, dark blue eyes. All I can do is stare until I realize the crowd around me is moving.
Luca opens the door, and, slowly, the sea of people makes their way inside. When I get closer to the threshold, I realize why we’re moving so slowly.
He’s slicing palms. Each person wipes their bloody hand against the back of the door before entering the home. I watch the girls do the same, appearing unfazed, before I’m the one standing in front of Luca.
“This doesn’t seem sanitary,” I say.
“They’re all as clean as you are, or they wouldn’t be here. Do you trust me?”
I laughactually laugh. “No!”
“Hand,” he says, extending his own.
“I’m pretty sure this counts as talking,” I tell him, then place my hand palm-up on his own. “And touching.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he says before running the blade across my palm. It’s sharp enough that the cut doesn’t need to be deep; I barely feel it against my skin before the blood begins to seep through the wound in a paper-cut-thin line.
Then, Luca brings my palm to his mouth and sucks it clean.
He’s drinking my blood.
I remember what Declan said last night about the bloodabout how there’s power in it, that it’s forbidden, and that’s what makes it so erotic. If I wasn’t awake before, I’m certainly awake now.
Someone bumps into me from behind, and I remember I’m holding up a line of people behind me. I start to pull my hand away, but Luca grabs me by the wrist, squeezing forcefully.
Blood pools around the cut again. Before it runs down my arm, he takes my hand and smears it against the door.
“Still have to pay the price of admission,” he says, releasing me.
I slowly bring my hand back to my body, and he smiles as I step inside.
I take in my surroundingsthe marble floors, the high ceilings. The grand staircase and fireplace. The opulent main living area is already filled with people and noiseloud music blares from speakers hidden somewhere in the room. A couple passes me with what appears to be vials of blood hanging from chains on their necks. The man turns to me and smiles, revealing canines filed into fangs.
What in the fucking Twilight fandom was that?
“Hey,” River says, nudging me. “I told you things were a little weird here. Come on.”
She takes me to the kitchen with the rest of the family. Brady and Alana are filling test tubes with a thick, red substance. “What is that?” I ask, remembering the jello shots in L.A.
“It’s what it looks like,” Alana says, handing one to me.
“And what else?”
“Nothing else this time. This is all blood. Bottom’s up, fam,” she says.
I watch Brady, Alana, Hazel, Rhett, and Layla all grab a tube from the tray, too. I wait until the others throw it back to do the same. I surprise myself when I swallow it down easily.
River reaches out and swipes her thumb across my lip. When she pulls it away, it comes back bloody. She sucks it into her own mouth. “Not so bad, right?” she asks.
“No. But I still don’t think I quite get it,” I tell her, even though it feels like a lie when it leaves my lips. I think of Luca’s tongue on my palm, of my conversation with Declan in the club last night and the way he ran the blunt side of his blade over my skin. I think of Hazel covered in blood on the table and when he licked his lips before he wiped the blood and cum away from his mouth.
I think of my own obsession with the darker parts of humanity and the last time I got a little too close to it.
No, I think I understand just fine. And now I’m doubting myself again, wondering if maybe it’s time for me to go home. It’s the most inconvenient time for me to have such an epiphany.
“Sure you don’t,” Brady scoffs.
“Give her another one,” Rhett says, laughing.
Hazel hoists herself onto the counter and grabs a small square of watermelon from a fruit tray. “Open,” she says to me.
I obey, and she sets the square on my tongue. I taste iron again before I bite down, filling my mouth with a diluted mix of human blood, vodka, and the fruit’s sweet nectar. I watch as she does the same, wiping her mouth as the pink liquid drips onto her chin.
“Come here,” Hazel says.
“What do you mean?”
She holds out her hand, and after I take it, she pulls me into her so that I’m standing between her legs, then turns me so I’m facing out into the main living area, and rests her hands on my shoulders.
“Can’t you feel it?” she asks. “Can’t you see how it makes things different? Pay attention, Teagan. Try to give in to it, and then you’ll get it. Don’t you feel just a little more aware of your surroundings than usual?”
She brushes my hair over one shoulder and runs a finger up the side of my neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Are your thoughts just a little bit clearer?”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I think. Maybe.”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.