Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

I looked around, finding people piled in the back seat, girls on laps, while the front had two bodies sharing the passenger seat. Michael moved around the front of the car, heading for the driver’s side. People glanced at me, but they were smiling and still carrying on their conversations.

Drunk already, I would assume.

Michael climbed in the car, tossing his shirt and hoodie on the people to his right, and started the car.

And then a girl was on me.

I sucked in a breath, looking up as she straddled me. She was in short shorts, but she also wore a brown leather jacket, boots, and a scarf. Her face was painted like a sugar skull. Black rimmed her eyes, and she had beautiful designs of flowers across her temple.

What was she doing?

Raising some kind of spongy wedge, she dabbed it in some white makeup and came at me.

I reared back. “What are you doing?” I yelled over the radio blaring Save Yourself in the background.

“She’s disguising you,” Michael said as he put his car in drive and pulled around the driveway, heading down toward the gate. “Cooperate.”

She smiled, her burgundy lips spreading to reveal pearly white teeth. Leaning in, she started dabbing make-up on me again.

“It’s almost midnight,” she whispered excitedly. “Dia de la Muertos.”

Day of the Dead? It lasted from Halloween until after All Saints on November first, I knew, but why…

Oh, the make-up. It hit me why she was wearing face paint and what she was doing to me.

And the candles in the cemetery, too.

I didn’t know much about the holiday other than a parade I’d seen as a child in Meridian City.

“Are you cold?” Michael asked, and the next thing I knew, a sweatshirt came flying into the back.

I snatched it up. Awesome. All I had on was the thin boxers and a T-shirt.

And then my Vans came tumbling back at me, too. He grabbed my shoes? I hurriedly pulled everything on, immediately feeling warmer.

“Where are we going?” I tucked my hair behind my ears, making it easier for Ty to work.

Her eyes gleamed. “Hide and seek.”

Bellows and cheers instantly hit my ears as Michael swung open the double doors to The Pope.

It took less than forty-five minutes to get into Meridian City, the streets all the way from our seaside village to the bustling metropolis were now dark and quiet for the evening.

At least thirty people loitered in the lobby as I looked around and instinctively pulled up my hood—or Michael’s hood—worried that the face paint wasn’t enough to disguise me. Groups of teenagers were scattered amongst black columns that stretched up to the dark, high ceiling with ornate woodwork and crystal chandeliers. A few sat on sofas and cushioned chairs or stood near the large windows boasting beautiful white drapes and tall potted plants and baby trees nearby.

I’d never been here before. Our father rarely found a reason to bring us—or Damon, anyway—to the city. I knew it was in danger of closing, though. The stadium that was supposed to have been built years ago never happened and business was suffering. It really was a shame it was so empty and unappreciated for its grandeur.

An arm hooked around my neck, and I saw Michael standing next to me. He still had his shirt off.

“You got nice legs,” he said, staring around the lobby. “You might be safe from Damon at the moment, but don’t think you’re safe from the rest of us.”

He then looked down at me with a challenge in his eyes.

“And don’t think I don’t know how to take care of myself,” I retorted. “I don’t mind hitting a girl.”

His lips spread wide, and he laughed under his breath. Michael didn’t seem like a guy who ever gave much away, but I felt a tug of pride that he seemed to find me amusing, at least.

Everyone fanned out, the girl who’d done my make-up taking my hand and dragging me toward the elevators. Michael and a few others followed.