Lady Killer (Dead Girls Club #2)

33. Luz

Chapter thirty-three

Luz

T he winds whipping around campus had turned a surprisingly pleasant March day into another bitterly cold night.

Nixon had warned me about false spring, telling me not to get my hopes up.

Because it was Nixon, I didn’t listen, and now, I was once again regretting my fashion choices in the face of Connecticut’s unpredictable weather.

My white cardigan hugged my curves and exposed more of my décolletage than I was usually comfortable with, but men made stupid choices when they started thinking with their hindbrains.

Beauty can be deadly when we know how to wield it , Mami would say.

I’d paired it with my favorite skirt that I’d worn on the first day of classes over nylons and white thigh-high socks, and with my favorite chunky black boots.

While I was at the townhouse, a beautiful ankle-length camel wool coat had been delivered for me. Alister refused to take credit for it, but I knew it was him. Everest was apparently a DIY guy, and no one else cared enough.

Still, not even his thoughtful gift could keep me warm against the gusts of wind that made my hair swirl around me like a tempest. It would no doubt look like a bird’s nest by the time I made it to the Dagger and the Rose, putting a slight hitch in my efforts to distract Clayton with my feminine wiles.

Alister and Nixon were traveling there separately, and the familiar sensation of them lurking in the shadows never left me.

I’d barely made it through the pub’s door when two large hands clasped my shoulders, nearly sending me out of my skin.

“Luz! You made it,” Clayton said with a toothsome grin, reaching down to kiss me on the cheek.

I wanted to turn away and kick him in the shin but instead stood on my toes to offer him my best attempt at a hug.

“Come on,” he said, releasing me after several beats too long, “I got us a spot.”

We made our way to a cozy-looking booth in the back of the pub.

“May I take your coat?”

Forcing a polite smile, I accepted before sitting down.

Clayton hung our coats up, and then, to my displeasure, slid into the seat next to me, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

Expensive cologne drowned my senses, but there was something off-putting and manufactured about the scent.

“I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear from you.”

Clayton was, by all measures, an attractive man. But compared to my monsters, he seemed like a cheap facsimile. I couldn’t decide if he was a bad guy pretending to be a nice guy or a nice guy pretending to be a bad boy, but either way, he was phony.

The Blackwells may have been killers, but they didn’t pretend to be anyone they weren’t.

We made mindless chitchat until someone came over to take our orders. Sticking to the plan, I declined food and ordered a vodka soda, hoping Lucian had indeed managed to bribe the bartender for the evening. Clayton ordered an IPA and the server went off, leaving us alone again.

As his arm drew noticeably tighter around my shoulders, Clayton’s voice dropped. “How are you holding up with everything? First Aaron, then Melody, and now Autumn.”

My throat tightened. I had been prepared to come and lie about Melody’s disappearance and death, but the reference to my best friend caught me off guard.

“It’s . . .” I swallowed and pushed on, “been tough.”

Clayton’s free hand came to rest on my own.

If Everest finds out, that hand is gone, innocent or not.

“I can’t imagine. Everyone you’re close to disappearing, you must be terrified.”

For Autumn, yes.

“It’s pretty scary,” I said. Something occurred to me. “I didn’t realize that you knew Autumn as well . . . or knew that we’re friends?”

He gave me a bashful look, ducking his head down briefly before squeezing my hand. “I don’t know her, not well at least. I guess I should confess, I mostly know of her because of you.”

My mouth went dry. “Me?”

The server returned with our drinks, interrupting Clayton’s confession. “Let me know if I can get you anything else,” she said with a chipper, professional smile before heading to check on another table.

Clayton removed his hand from mine to take a drink of his beer, and I took a tentative sip of my “vodka soda.”

Lucian had come through. It was all soda.

“God, I’m going about this all wrong. You probably think I am some sort of a creep now,” he said, pointedly keeping his arm around me.

I tried to play it cool and gave him a light smile and a shrug.

He must have taken it as a good sign because he smiled, flashing his dimples, continuing, “I am friends with Melody. We work at the Erstveld Lab together.”

This was old news, but I pretended to care with a blank-faced nod.

“I saw a picture of you two together on her Instagram and . . .” He paused. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and I knew I had to get to know you.”

Dios mío. This is one of the many reasons I don’t have any social media.

His hand returned to mine, and I put all my focus into keeping a wide-eyed, confused-looking expression on my face .

“I was going to ask her to set us up, but, well, then she disappeared, and I never got the opportunity,” he said.

“Then I saw you at the lecture, and I knew I had to take my chance.” He squeezed my hand. “I hope you can forgive me. I meant what I said. I’m here for you to talk about Melody, and Autumn, and Aaron anytime you want. I just had to shoot my shot, you know?”

I was pretty sure this man just confessed to using the disappearance and death of some of the people he believed to be closest to me to score a date. Either he was a literal predator, involved in the kidnapping and ritualistic murder of innocent women, or he was an emotional predator, and either way, I was starting to wish we had let Everest kidnap him from the start.

Unfortunately, I had a part to play.

“That’s . . .”

He looked at me expectantly.

“Kind of sweet?”

Clayton smiled, releasing me to drink his beer again. “Thank goodness, I was worried you would take it the wrong way. Some women love to jump to the worst conclusions about men.”

Forget Everest, Clayton Royal was going to have to worry about me soon.

Two and half hours, four beers, and three “vodka” sodas later, Clayton was drunk, and I was doing my best to appear to be equally intoxicated.

After he made a show about paying the bill, we were finally leaving. As we walked toward the door, he linked his arm in mine while I forced another giggle at whatever idiotic thing he was saying.

When we stepped outside, he stopped, reaching over to swipe a piece of hair from my face and nearly poking my eye out before tugging me closer.

“Want to come back to my place? It’s not too far from here.”

My eyes swept across the deceptively empty side street, catching on a singular figure lurking in the shadows halfway down the block. I’d know that rigid posture anywhere.

“Oh, I can’t, I mean, I don’t. Not on the first date.”

Clayton’s lips pinched, and I thought he would protest, but he quickly smoothed his features and gave me an indulgent grin. “I can respect that, a quality woman. Next time then?”

I batted my eyes and pretended to sway a bit. “We’ll have to see. ”

Without warning, he leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss on me.

He tasted like beer, and when his tongue probed tentatively at my mouth, I kept my lip sealed shut. It was difficult to make out anything over the wind, but I could swear I heard a muttered curse behind me.

Clayton pulled back with satisfaction written across his face.

“I’ll see you soon, Luzz,” he slurred slightly. “Text me when you make it to your dorm.”

And with that, he turned around and started stumbling away in the opposite direction.

I scrubbed my lips with the sleeve of my coat, trying to get the taste of him off me, before turning around to walk back to my dorm.

We had accounted for this, and I continued to walk slowly, as if in a drunken daze, in case I was being followed by someone other than my usual stalkers.

The Dagger and the Rose was in the part of Shady Harbor farthest from the coast, the part that dipped down into the woods that surrounded much of the university.

I meandered down a couple of side streets before coming to the paved path that led through the forest, complete with sparse, poorly working streetlights .

We all agreed that if Clayton didn’t try to bring me back to his apartment, this was the most likely place for the killer to make their move.

The wind whistled through the bare trees, and even though I could see the bright lights of the university at the other end, they seemed farther away than I remembered. The darkness was palpable, taking me back to the night I’d spent hiding in the woods from the sheep.

The lamppost nearest me flickered ominously and I didn’t like that I couldn’t hear the twins’ footsteps at my back.

Something rustled in the trees behind me, and I spun around.

No one was there.

Pull yourself together.

Forcing my attention back to meandering, I put one foot in front of the other, lackadaisically making my way through the narrow stretch of woods.

The wind shifted relentlessly through the trees, and I fought the urge to look behind me again one more time.

I had to play my part. Autumn depended on it.

By the time I made it to the other end and onto the university grounds, my nerves were raw, and I was still very much alone.

Where are they ?

Looking at the woods, I was almost disappointed not to see a sheep staring out at me.

Refusing to give up, I continued to bob and weave all the way back to my building.

Nothing.

I stood in front of my dorm, waiting on Alister and Nixon who emerged from the shadows from different directions a couple minutes later.

Alister was unreadable, and for once, so was Nixon.

“Did you see anything?”

They shook their heads, and a deep, aching sense of disappointment set into my bones.

We had nothing.