Mad Love (Slateview High 3)

By the time the party ended in the late evening, the sedative my parents had forced on me was beginning to wear off, and I could think a bit more clearly, although I felt strangely exhausted—as if I’d been in a half-sleep for the past several hours and my body desperately craved real sleep.

My mother only stopped hovering at my shoulder when the last guest stepped out the door, and the smile melted from her face as she turned away from me. The scratch mark on her cheek had faded already, but I had a feeling her anger about it would last much, much longer.

“I’m going upstairs,” she said shortly, turning toward the curved staircase, her heels clicking over the floor. “The staff will clean up.”

“I’ll be up shortly, darling,” Dad said, his tone almost warm. He was a better actor than Mom was, and I was only now beginning to realize what a dangerous thing that was.

Mom disappeared up the steps, and Dad turned to me, his expression serious and sincere.

“I watched you tonight, Cordelia.” He sighed. “I know you don’t like this arrangement, and you probably don’t see the point in it. But believe me, there is one. The connections our entire family will gain from this marriage will be enough to put us back in good standing among our peers.” He stepped forward, laying a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be grateful for this one day, sweetheart. I’m sure of it.”

With a soft smile, he turned and headed up the stairs after Mom.

I stood in the large, empty ballroom for several long moments, gazing at my lavish surroundings as if I’d never seen them before. My fingers plucked idly at the delicate, expensive fabric of my dress, and I dragged in a deep breath through my nose. Then I took a few steps toward the stairs before hesitating.

I had no desire to go back to my room right now. It felt too prison-like, too confining. The truth of the matter was, I was trapped by far more than just a set of walls, but I couldn’t stand the thought of locking myself up in my room again.

Several servants were making their way around the ballroom, cleaning and clearing away empty glasses, but they moved about like ghosts, never looking directly at me and skirting out of my way like fish as I turned and strode across the large room.

It only made me feel more like a ghost myself, like someone who wasn’t quite real. As if I could rail and scream and protest all I liked, but no one would hear me. No one would listen.

I needed to feel alive. I needed to feel my own skin again.

So I made my way through the massive house toward the pool house at the back, walking down the glass enclosed corridor that connected it to the rest of the house. The lights were on when I walked into the space with beautifully tiled floors, large windows lining one wall, and an Olympic-sized swimming pool. They were set on a timer, going on and off every day despite the fact that the only people who usually came in here were maintenance staff.

My parents never used the pool. They’d only gotten it built because several of their friends had installed pools, and they couldn’t bear to be left behind in anything. But as soon as it’d been added to the house, they had both promptly forgotten about it.

Because they’d never really wanted it in the first place. They just hadn’t wanted to lose.

I didn’t use it often either, but it had become a place I knew I could go when I wanted guaranteed privacy and solitude. And that was exactly what I craved right now. Time alone to think. To try to get my mind to function again, to get rid of the last vestiges of numbness in my body and soul.

None of the house staff would come in here either—they were all busy with cleanup from the party—so I didn’t even hesitate before reaching back to feel for the zipper of my dress and tugging it down. I let the soft material drop to the tiled floor, not even bothering to pick it up and drape it over a lounge chair before walking toward the water in my strapless bra and panties. The lawn outside the windows was mostly dark, with just a few perfectly placed lights illuminating the sculptures my mother had commissioned.

I stepped off the edge into the deep end of the pool and let myself sink toward the bottom for a moment, little bubbles escaping my nose as the silky water surrounded me. Then I flutter-kicked toward the surface, brushing my wet hair out of my eyes as my head popped out of the water.

The pool water was cool, and the feel of it against my skin was exactly what I needed. My head felt massively clearer already as I began to swim the length of the pool, my strokes easy and practiced from the many private lessons I’d had.

I was on my third lap when an awareness prickled across my skin, making goose bumps rise all over my body. My heart thudded unevenly in my chest as I stopped swimming, my feet touching down in the shallow end as my gaze swept around the room.

I was being watched. I was sure of it.

It was late in the evening, and the lights in the pool house were dim, casting shifting blue reflections over the walls. There was no one in the large space with me, but when my gaze shifted to the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran along one wall, my breath caught in my throat.

Three figures appeared like ghosts out of the darkness. One with brown hair and intense features, one broad-shouldered and bulky, with short blond hair, and one with dark hair and eyes and caramel skin.

The Lost Boys.

Three

I stared at them in shock, breath suspended in my lungs.

All three boys gazed back at me with unblinking eyes as they came to a stop outside one window, and for a moment, I was sure I was imagining things. Hallucinating. Dreaming them up because I had missed them so fucking much.

Before I could rouse myself from my stupor and climb out of the water, they moved toward the door at one end of the pool house that led to the backyard. I saw Misael pull something from his jacket pocket, and a second later I lost sight of them as they gathered around the door.

Then a soft click echoed around the silent space, and the door swung open.

A gust of cold winter air swept into the pool house, chilling my wet hair and skin, and then all three boys stepped inside, closing the door softly behind them. They moved as a single unit like they so often did, striding toward