There better be a fucking coffee maker, or else I’m going to riot.
Nana continues to lead me up the stairs until we reach a ladder leading to an attic, already pulled down. I eye the dark hole in trepidation, memories once more coming to the forefront of my mind.
The steel walls of the locker seemed to steadily be shrinking like a vise. Each breath I took had my chest constricting. My hands brushed the cold door, currently locked shut.
“Please let me out,” I sobbed, pounding my fists against the steel. Through the slates, I could see their grinning faces, nothing but mirth and wicked excitement reflected back at me.
Shaking my head, I reluctantly follow Nana up the ladder, the wood in desperate need of sandpapering.
“Home sweet home!” Nana cheers once my head finally breaches the hole. She’s standing in the center of the desolate room, a wide, enigmatic smile on her face. “Well? What do you think?”
I think…
That this is going to be a long fucking school year.
You can tell that Nana and her men at least tried to clean it, but I still catch a myriad of spider webs hanging from the low rafters. It’s a large space, at least horizontally, though there are some sections where I’ll need to duck down in order to get by. A single triangular window rests against the similarly shaped wall. Ambient sunlight pours through, mixing its light with the single bulb hanging from the wooden ceiling. There’s a bed directly beneath the window with fresh blankets and pillows. Besides that, there’s nothing but a dresser, desk, and nightstand. It’s cute and practical, but not necessarily homey.
Still, it’s better than what it could be, and I know better than to take little things like housing for granted.
“I love it. Thank you, Nana,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her waist. She startles in surprise, a soft noise escaping, before she hugs me back just as fiercely.
“I missed you, kiddo.”
“I missed you, too.”
I don’t know how long we stay that way, but it’s long enough for Gabriel to clear his throat from down below. At least, I’m assuming it’s Gabriel. He seems like an asshole.
“Well…” Nana steps away and fidgets with the tie on her bathrobe. “I’ll let you settle in for a bit. Is there anything else you need? Anything at all?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” I reply, my mind already elsewhere. At this point, there’s really only one location it’ll go: to them.
“Dinner will be ready in a couple hours. Polo is a great cook. Absolutely divine. If you don’t need anything else…”
“Get back to your boyfriends, Nana. I’ll be fine,” I assure her, my eyes latched on the immense trunk sitting at the foot of my bed.
“I love you, sweet girl. Always remember that.” With a tenderness I’m not used to seeing—let alone experiencing—she kisses my forehead. Without another word, she perches herself on the edge of the hole, and, forgoing the ladder, jumps into one of her men’s arms.
But, damn, if it isn’t strange to see my nana getting her rocks off with three men only a few years older than me.
Once more shaking my head, I drop to my knees in front of the ancient chest before me. The black paint is chipped and turning a rustic red with age. There’s a single lock clasped at the front, a green tint surrounding it.
Licking my lower lip, I open my palm and aim my hand at the lock. The entire chest begins to vibrate as I push my magic into it with the intensity of a lightning bolt. After a moment, the lock drops to the ground with an audible clank and the lid flies open.
I peer inside at the contents, a wicked grin pulling up my lips. The first thing I see is a picture, freshly printed. The four of them are posing for the camera, scowls marring their hideously handsome faces. With the pad of my thumb, I trace their features before pulling my hand away as if their pictures alone are poisonous.
“School starts tomorrow, boys,” I say darkly, removing object after object from my chest. Newspaper clippings. Photographs. Needles. An ancient spellbook. And then, finally, the four dolls I had made just the month before. They almost resemble gingerbread cookies in shape, the brown fabric pulled tight over stuffing. Simple black buttons make up their eyes.
But, wrapped around each of their necks, are four different colors of hair. Red on one. Blond on another. Black on the third. Brown and purple on the final one.
“Let the games begin,” I whisper darkly.
Come hell or highwater, the Kings of High Groves High School will pay.
CHARMING DEVILS
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Katie May
Charming Devils