Haunted Rayne

21 - Homecoming Horror (part 2)

TRIGGER-WARNING:
The following scene contains depictions of violence and predatory age-gap relations. 

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The homecoming dance was shrouded in an ethereal aura, as if the sapphire spotlights were fracturing black shadows to reveal otherworldly beings. The students were dressed in their finest attire, shimmering like stars in the midnight sky. As Rayne and Lucas danced, her arms gracefully draped over his shoulders, Rayne could feel the liquid heat of sunlight rushing through her veins, rekindling the vivid recollection of him enfolding her tightly within the shack. The ache in her temples subsided, and the tumultuous swirl of uncertainty that had resided within her began to dissipate. In this moment, she simply met his eyes with the intent to soak up every second of this dance.

Lucas looked down, his lips carved with statuesque stoicism. "You really shouldn't look at me like that."

"Like what?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Her playful grin cracked into something a little more serious. "Why not?"

"I . . ." His eyes snapped to her lips, his own parted with words unspoken. "We—"

"Mind if I cut back in?" Cole stood next to them, hand extended.

Luke released Rayne's hand, and the breeze that overtook his warmth felt as out of place as she did. The music seemed to stutter and slow into a faint, mournful dirge. The crowd moved like ghosts, movements sluggish and weighted with unfinished business. A brisk current swept the room, causing the lanterns to flicker and cast shadows along the walls. They twisted and writhed. Not now, Rayne thought, as she began to wonder if these particular shadows were the sentient kind.

Lucas said, "Of course," smiling gently, and he stepped aside without another word, leaving Rayne to stand alone with Cole. The music was all but a hum in the background, Cole's anger radiating off him in waves.

She tried clearing her throat with a nervous laugh. "Thank you for—"

"What was that about?"

Stunned, Rayne was overcome by a rising tide of nausea, as if her core had suddenly turned sour. As the sensation intensified, a disorienting pressure began to engulf her head.

"So," he began, his voice low and serious, "it was something?"

"No."

"You said that a little too quickly. Trying to convince me or yourself?"

He snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her into a dance. The room seemed to spin. All Rayne could think of was Lucas' touch, the heat of his embrace, the smell of his cologne. Then, the shadows morphing around them. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog that was beginning to settle over her. Cole's chest pressed into her, his heartbeat achingly loud, and Rayne witnessed a raging fire ravaging her mind's eye.

"I . . ." Rayne closed her eyes.

The fire. Consuming.

The weight of his glare. Suffocating.

"Now, you're taking too long," Cole said, his grip tightening on her waist.

"Okay, no! You need to back off," Rayne snapped, pushing him back. The inferno sputtered out in her mind, coiling embers and smoke wafting around her. "I am here with you, aren't I?"

Cole stepped toward her. "Are you?"

◢✥◣

"He knows," Braiden whispered. "He knows you're a threat."

Dorian paced the living room. This was all absurd! He had never been one to believe in the supernatural, but the events of the past few weeks had truly shaken him to his core. It was more than all this talk of demons and sacrifices. Supposedly, his dead twin brother was in the room with them! Dorian looked to Emma, hoping for a lifeline, but she seemed lost in thought. "I'm sorry," Dorian said, pinching his brow, "who's a threat?"