In Silence She Screams (Midnight Mayhem 3)

He paused.

I tilted my head in an attempt to make out the delicate white skull paint on the edges of his face. With every stroke, as if to emanate the sharp-featured bone on his face. His eyes were white like a wolf’s, and his hoodie closed around his neck. None of the other men had the same face paint on their face, but they watched the exchange, nonetheless.

“You want me to start with you?” I asked, running my finger up the zipper of his hoodie. Even blanketed in thick cotton, I could feel the hardness of his muscles. I didn’t know what he looked like, but there was something inside of me that wanted to know. To see him. All of him.

He took another step, his hand around my chin to yank my face up to his. He didn’t speak. Didn’t talk. But somehow, the gap that hung between us, that painfully loud silence, felt more like a question.

Can I touch you? It said.

But I was wrong. It was all in my head, or in the LSD I had dropped before walking in here because it was Bear’s favorite drug. Men didn’t ask—not ever.

I took another step toward him, peering up at him behind batted lashes. “Take me.”

I wake in a sweat. The dampness clinging to my sticky skin like fucking leather on a hot day. Ripping my sheets off my body, I make my way to the bathroom, turning on the tap and cupping my hand beneath the bottom to catch water. Sipping it every chance I get, I finally wrap the same fingers around the back of my neck to help bring my temperature down, glaring at myself in the mirror. My silver-blonde hair hangs over my shoulders in tousled waves, and the bags beneath my eyes are far too deep to be up to Patience’s standard. I’m not sure about Midnight Mayhem.

Shit. I need to get rid of them ASAP before the show—I glance a look at the alarm clock on my bedside table—before fucking tonight. It’s three a.m., and if I take Bear’s point for what that meant, she would say it’s the time that the portal between our realm and the spiritual realm opened because three plus three equals six. Bear is all the way into tarot and all the witchy stuff.

Closing the bathroom door, I slide back into bed, attempting to close my eyes to get back to sleep. After the fourth toss, I tiptoe outside my bedroom and pause outside Kyrin’s door. I find myself looking between Kyrin and Eli. One offers warmth and friendship, and the other offers carnage and power.

They both offer pain.

I slide down my door until my butt hits the floor, unable to make a decision. Why can’t I do that? It should be easy, shouldn’t it? You always want one person more than the other? I don’t know. I need to talk with Saskia.

I curl into a ball and squeeze my eyes closed.

I just need to get more sleep.

I don’t think many things are cute. In fact, I would go as far as to say I don’t think anything is cute. The word doesn’t belong in my vocabulary, yet here I am, staring down at Lilith as she lets out soft little snores between each breath.

“Fuck.” She’s a good lay. That’s why I want to help her…

That’s all. It has nothing to do with anything fucking else. I’m just thinking with my dick.

“You gonna wake her?” Eli says from beside me sleepily. He’s still rubbing his eyes with his palm.

“Don’t know.” I look him up and down.

I’m not going to lie. Eli is hot. He’s everything I would be interested in, but I feel like he’s hiding something. He’s got the body, the face, and the smirk. It’s the personality I have a problem with. If I go for men, I usually go for the ones similar to me because I know how to deal with them. They’re easy to decipher and not so inconsistent. I’ve thought about the next step they’re going to take way before they even take it, but Eli is not that at all. He’s everything I should stay away from.

“Getting a good look?” he jokes, leaning against the threshold of his door. “Should I ask you what you’re thinking?”

“You could.” I shrug, tilting my head. “But I wouldn’t tell you shit.”

He pushes off the wall and suddenly he’s in front of me. We’re almost the same height, but he falls a couple inches shorter and leaner. I keep my shit tight, but I give a fuck about my bulk, too. Eli has the typical CrossFit body.

His fingers find the rim of my jeans, tugging me into his crotch. “We’ve been dancing around this shit for way too long for it to be acceptable. You know that, right?”