Sancte Diaboli: Part Two (The Elite King's Club 7)

I love it.

“The Hunt?” I turn to face her, leaning against wooden paneling.

Her eyes flick up to mine. She grins. “The Hunt.”

Tonight feels different. There is an eagerness to the air that begs to invade daylight. A sort of spell that wants to push anything light out of its path. Veronica had told me to wear white, and to be downstairs at the front door by eleven p.m. It’s strange. The atmosphere feels thick. Almost as though the air doesn’t allow us to breathe. I’ve applied makeup—heavy. Straightened my hair—flat. Now all I have to do is change. The dress Veronica chose flows off my curves and spills to the ground gracefully, but my breasts swell out the deep v-cut, more so than I would usually expose. I touch the edge of my necklace, the only piece of jewelry I wanted to wear tonight. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel close to Brantley because we’re so far apart right now. Emotionally and physically.

I miss him. I don’t know if that makes me naïve because of what he did, but the fact is true. I miss him. But just because my heart wants him does not mean my mind is going to allow it to have him. I open my phone and send off a text to Tillie.

Me: I miss you.

She replies instantly, but I don’t open it until I’m making my way downstairs, after slipping on the crystal anklets I’m wearing on both feet. Instead of shoes, she has me wearing jewels that lace and knot around my feet.

Tillie: I’m working to get you home.

Me: Don’t. I’m ok.

Tillie: Not here.

Me: What do you mean?

Tillie: Look, if you needed to be put somewhere safe, it shouldn’t have been there.

Me: Tillie, I’m ok. I actually like it here.

Tillie: Where is here? They’re not telling me anything, and Madison and Bishop are still barely talking.

“There you are!” Ophelia calls out from down the hallway, her arms stretched wide. She’s wearing a white gown similar to mine, only different. Her hair is free, hanging around her slender shoulders, and her makeup is kept to a bare minimum.

I push my phone away. “You guys are coming?”

Ivy, Frankie, and Alessi are following behind her in a trail of white.

“Of course! We can’t wait for this time of year.”

“This time of year?” I ask, just as Alessi opens the front door and gestures outside with a wave of her hand.

“The Hunt is when we get to meet with male witches!”

“I still don’t know what that means.” I step outside and pause when I see six white horses, waiting for us in a line.

They’re already saddled, standing obediently, when Veronica steps to the side of me, winking over her shoulder. “Well, come on, Saint. We’re going to show you what you’ve been missing all these years.”

Veronica is wearing black. Shocker. Though the style is similar to mine, only where I have one slit carving up the side of my leg, she has two. Her black hair has been tousled in messy waves, falling down past her butt. She always looks elegant and beautiful, even when she’s not trying, and it almost always seems as though she’s not trying. I still can’t pin her age. She gracefully swings herself onto the saddle and turns over her shoulder to look back at me. “You’re not married, are you?”

My eyes widen. “What?”

Ophelia hooks her arm in mine and directs me toward the steed behind Veronica. She chuckles. “Never mind.”

Ophelia points to the stirrup. “Put one foot in there and swing your other leg around.”

I do as I’m told, grasping onto the leather rein as the horse shuffles under my weight. I pat its long mane.

“Good boy. Be nice to me. I’ve never done this before.”

Once everyone is on their horse, Veronica leads us down the long driveway. Oversized candles are alight at the edges. As we trot past, shadows of trees form at the side of my eye and I have to double take to make sure they’re just that—shadows. The wind is rustling, but only softly. When we’re halfway down the drive, Veronica calls out to me.

“Saint, come ride with me at the front.”

I kick my horse a little until it trots forward and finds its stride, just slightly back from Veronica, but close enough that we can have a conversation. “Did you know we are often drawn to animals because their energy and minds are quiet? Much like plants.” She guides us off the driveway and onto an off-road path, noting the candles are now directing us through a rough yet flat clearing of the forest.

“I didn’t know that, but I’ve always loved animals.”

“Do you have any?” she asks.

I nod, even though I know she can’t see me. “I do. I have two Dobermans and a pet snake, Medusa.” Even thinking of them makes my heart clench. I miss the companionship that only animals can give me.