Firethorne

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Maya

I t was the night of the party, and in a way, I was relieved my father had gone on a weekend business trip with Mr Firethorne. He told me it was something to do with future building work on the estate, and I was glad he was being included in important decisions, but I’d zoned out when he was explaining it all. And now, as I stepped out of the shower and headed to my room, I was grateful of the time alone so I could get ready and psyche myself up for what lay ahead.

A large box had arrived on my doorstep an hour ago, which I assumed was my outfit from Miriam. I hadn’t opened it yet, I’d just placed it on my bed, leaving it for later. But now, I eyed it with curiosity as I sat on the end of the bed and dried my hair, wondering what she’d chosen, hoping it would fit, praying it was okay. The longer I stared, the more nervous and apprehensive I got. So, as soon as my hair was dry, I shut my hairdryer off, dropped it onto my bed and stood up.

I loomed over the box like it held an explosive device, and as the nerves tickled my stomach, I reminded myself that it was just a dress, an angel outfit, nothing to worry about, and I lifted the lid.

Inside there was red tissue paper. Carefully, I folded it back, confused when I saw black leather underneath. This sure as hell wasn’t an angel outfit.

What the fuck had she sent me?

I picked up the short, black leather dress—so short I wasn’t even sure it’d fit. Holding it up, I noticed it was strapless and there was a tail on the back. It was more risqué than anything I’d ever worn before and on the front, the numbers six, six, six were embroidered in red.

The sign of the devil.

I placed it on the bed and went back to the box, pulling out a pair of thigh-high black leather boots, a hairband of black devil horns, and a black pitchfork.

I smiled to myself. Miriam was obviously pissed off that I was going with Lysander, and this was her way of getting back at me. But it wouldn’t work.

So, I wouldn’t be an angel. It was no big deal. If she thought she could embarrass me, I’d prove her wrong. I’d wear the damn devil dress. I’d wear the fuck out of it and show her that her little prank had backfired. If she wanted me to be the devil, I’d be the best devil at the party.

I applied my make-up, giving myself smoky eyes to complement the outfit, and then I shimmied into the dress, surprised that it fitted me so well. Okay, it was a little short, shorter than I’d have liked, but as I stood in front of the mirror, I had to admit that I looked good. Damn good.

I sat on the bed and pulled each of the thigh-high boots on, zipping them up, then standing again. I admired how much taller and leaner they made my legs look. Last, it was the horns. I brushed my long black hair and then slid the hairband on, the horns sitting perfectly on the top of my head. I hadn’t been to many parties. I hadn’t been to any costume parties. But I knew, as outfits went, this one was kick-ass.

“Not bad at all, Cole,” I whispered to myself, picking up the pitchfork and giving a wicked chuckle. “Who wants to be an angel, anyway?”

Walking up the front steps of Firethorne Manor, I could hear the music thumping from inside, the bass pounding in beat with my heart. I felt so nervous, but I didn’t want to show it.

Heading to the open door, I could see a crowd of people already gathered in the reception area; red devils, horned demons, and angels all mingling, holding glasses of champagne as they chatted easily with one another. I took a moment to stand in the doorway and take it all in.

I didn’t know anyone here, and scanning the room, I couldn’t see Lysander or Miriam anywhere. It was blatantly clear I was an outsider, and suddenly, I had an attack of nerves and had to fight the urge to turn around and walk away. But then, I heard a familiar voice call to me from across the crowd.

“Maya! Oh my God, Maya. You look amazing.”

Lysander pushed his way through the crowd, and I caught my breath as I stared at him, looking absolutely breathtaking. His chest was bare and covered with shimmering golden paint. Every perfect pec and ab, every muscle shining as he flexed while walking over to me. He wore a gold loin cloth, had huge golden wings on his back, and above his head sat a golden halo. Lysander, the God of angels, looked stunning. I was speechless.

“Wow,” I managed to say as he came to stand in front of me and leant down to place a tender kiss on my cheek.

“Maya the devil. Who knew?” He winked, and I blushed. I know I blushed because I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I dipped my head, but he put his finger under my chin, and I lifted my eyes to look at him. “You look gorgeous,” he said quietly in my ear. “I think being a devil suits you.”

“I think being an angel suits you,” I said, feeling clumsy with my words and then stupid that I’d mirrored his words back to him. “I love the wings.”

Oh jeez, I really was losing it.

I love the wings?

I needed to get a grip.

But being around Lysander, when he looked the way he did tonight, turned me into a tongue-tied fool.

And with perfect timing, as if to bear witness to my inability to successfully communicate like a sane adult, Miriam sauntered through the crowd. Her outfit was an exact replica of Lysander’s, only she wore a gold bodysuit with crystals that sparkled as they caught the light. Her long blonde hair shone perfectly, and her halo was exactly the same as his. She kept her smile fixed firmly on her face as she came to stand next to us, and then she looked me up and down as she said, “You changed your mind then?”

I frowned back at her. “What do you mean?”

She gestured to my outfit with her hand, sweeping it up and down as she said, “I thought you were coming as an angel. I thought we agreed. I even picked out my favourite full-length white silk dress for you to wear and a halo just like mine. But I guess Givenchy is too good for you tonight. Why wear designer when you can wear... this .” She turned her nose up at the last part, but I was still stuck on, ‘I picked out my favourite dress’.

“You sent me a dress?” I asked, and she recoiled.

“Yes, I sent you a dress, but I guess you didn’t like it, so?—”

“I didn’t get a dress delivered. Not a white one. All that came was this.” I was so confused, my brow furrowing as I tried to work out what was going on.

Had there been another box delivered that I hadn’t noticed?

Did I do something wrong here?

Was I going mad?

And then, as the murmur from the crowd turned to gasps and ripples of excitement, and people turned to look towards the staircase, I wasn’t confused anymore.

Walking slowly down the stairs, taking each step with precision, like he was walking a runway, was Damien.

The devil, Damien.

He was dressed in a crisp black suit, with the same black horns as mine sprouting from his black hair, and an eerie skull painted on his face to add to his menacing look. He held the same pitchfork that I was carrying, and on the pocket of his jacket were the numbers six, six, six, embroidered in red, exactly the same as my dress.

Miriam hadn’t done this.

He had.

I’d been tricked by the devil himself, and knowing that made my stomach roll.

As he reached the bottom of the staircase, every greedy eye in the room was on him. It was as if everyone here were his subjects, all pawns in his game, and he was the master.

He stood for a moment, like a model posing at the end of a runway. Then he dipped his head, but his eyes shot up, staring right at me with a dark, predatory stare that pinned me in place, making it difficult to breathe, move, to do anything.

I noticed people around us begin to turn and glare at me. Women looked me up and down, most with a vicious disdain that they couldn’t conceal. The men stared with appreciation they weren’t afraid to hide, until Damien strode across the room to stand in front of me, and then, they turned away. They appeared to be afraid of him, like he really was the devil he’d come dressed as, or maybe they were just in awe. But I gritted my teeth, my jaw clenched as I prepared myself for what was coming next.

“Nice outfit.” Damien grinned wickedly, pointing to the six, six, six on my dress with the pitchfork in his hand.

Miriam folded her arms across her chest, unable to mask her fury as she faced Damien.

“And there I was thinking you were a man of your word and you wouldn’t play these games with us,” Miriam hissed. “I thought you weren’t going to be a part of... all this .”

His eyes stayed on me the whole time she spoke, an evil glint twinkling back at me. Then, slowly, he turned to stare down at Miriam and he grinned wider.

“And miss out on all the fun?” He cocked his head. “Now why would I agree to that?”

“You switched the outfits,” Miriam hissed, her eyes narrowing on him.

“She didn’t have to wear it, though, did she?” Damien retorted, and I couldn’t stop myself from snapping through gritted teeth, “I had nothing else to wear.”

“And it suits you,” he replied plainly. Then leaning closer, his eyes flickering from Lysander to the left of me, and Miriam to my right, he added, “You wouldn’t want to come dressed as a bland, dreary angel like they wanted you to, anyway. Why blend in when you can stand out?”

“She always stands out,” Lysander bit back.

Damien lifted his chin in the air. “For once, I agree with you, brother,” he replied, taking me aback. Damien didn’t do compliments, and I was sure he’d said it just to annoy Lysander. “But don’t we all look the part,” he went on. “You and Miriam in your matching halos.” He gestured to me. “And us, the devils, not giving a fuck what anyone else here thinks. We’re playing by our own rules.”

“Playing dirty rules,” Miriam sneered.

“I thought that’s what you preferred?”

Miriam ignored him, and turning to me, she said, “I’m sorry for my asshole cousin.”

“You can’t help who your family are,” I replied.

And Damien snorted. “No, you can’t, can you.”

I could feel Lysander growing tense beside me, and he took my hand and announced, “I think we’ve heard enough.” Then he turned to ask me, “Shall we go for a wander?”

I nodded.

Damien huffed, then barked back, “Taking her for another tour of the gardens, brother ? What is it tonight? The scenic route to see the noose again, or how about the haunted lake? Maybe a bit of midnight skinny dipping with the ghosts in the water?”

“Fuck you,” Lysander hissed. Then, losing his cool, he got into Damien’s face as he sneered, “Maybe we’ll stop off at the wooden hut your mother used to lure my father to so she could fuck him.”

Damien’s jaw locked, a tell-tale muscle twitching to show Lysander had gotten under his skin.

“Be careful with those accusations.” Damien’s voice was low and threatening as he spoke. “Throwing out insults like that could get you into trouble.”

“Not if it’s true,” Lysander snarled back.

“Ah, yes. Truth.” Damien stepped back, plastering that killer smile he’d perfected so well onto his face again like nothing had vexed him. “That’s something we’re renowned for in this family, isn’t it,” he proclaimed with sarcasm dripping off his tongue. “We’re all about truth.”

“Whatever,” Lysander replied, his voice dull and lifeless, showing he’d had enough of sparring with Damien for one night. “The truth is, you’re boring me now. Come on, Maya, let’s go and get a drink.”

Damien chuckled to himself.

“Be careful, Maya,” he warned. “Even salt looks like sugar at first glance. And remember the saying... sometimes it’s better the devil you know.”

“I know who’s the devil in this scenario,” I replied. “Don’t worry about that.” And we walked away, but as we walked, I could feel the heat of his stare boring into my back. I didn’t think I would shake the devil as easily as that tonight.

He was out to play.