The Rush (The Siren Series)

CHAPTER Thirteen



“Alright ladies, it’s time to make an appearance,” Sloane admonished after several minutes of hugging.

Exie and I made simultaneous groans of frustration, but let Sloane lead the way out her door and down the staircase to the main floor. There weren’t that many women gathered tonight, less than fifty. But each room was packed with competitive estrogen and enough ego to suffocate an innocent bystander.

Caterers floated from room to room carrying trays of bite-sized canapés or flutes of champagne and soft jazz drifted through the air barely heard over the steady conversation. Men had joined the ranks of women since I was upstairs, dates, husbands, lovers, Nix’s apprentices…. There were not as many of them as there were women, but the crowd was diversified and it put me back on edge.

We waved and smiled at everyone important, at everyone we were supposed to pay notice to. But each of us avoided Nix’s authoritative eye and the expectation-filled expressions of our mothers. Exie and Sloane were as uncomfortable as I was dealing with these people and we shared a mutual acknowledgment that a quick walk-through constituted a legitimate appearance. With a sad, soul-crushing kind of despair I noticed Anaxandra and Eveleen mingling with the veteran women in the crowd, sipping vodka martinis and discussing current events.

Another one bites the dust.

And another one, and another one, and another one bites the dust.

We ducked into the den toward the back of the house. The room was unoccupied, but we knew it would be. Personal offices are always off limits at these things, hence the reason we use them as our safe haven. Technically we were still apart of the party.

We squished together on a rich, deep chocolate suede sofa surrounded by ceiling to floor bookshelves stacked with volumes of intellectual books that had probably never been opened and began our ritual of making fun of everyone we could remember seeing in our brief sprint from the bottom of the staircase to this room. We pulled our cell phones out and multitasked by trash talking and texting. This was procedure for us, years of routine and tradition.

“So did that guy ever work out for you?” Sloane asked with a sly lift of her eyebrow.

“Guy?” I clarified. A surge of irrational panic slid through my veins leaving sticky residual anxiety congesting my blood vessels into immovable blockage.

“That one from your first day back? The one that offered you a ride?” Sloane clarified as if I was especially slow tonight.

“Oh, right. Yes, actually. We have a date tomorrow night. Some house party thing….” I trailed off and then felt the need to defend Chase’s choice of first date. “He asked me out for tonight first, but obviously I had other plans. So we decided to do this thing tomorrow night because he already told his friend he would be there,” I rambled nervously. “His name is Chase.” For a moment I assumed she meant Ryder, which sent off all kinds of panic alarms in my head. I realized then that I held a fierce desire to protect Ryder from this life, from me…. and I didn’t understand where it was coming from. I didn’t even really like Ryder. He was more like this phenomenon in a life where everything had become far too predictable. But maybe that was why I wanted to protect him. Maybe because he was all but invincible to my curse, I wanted to protect him from every potential female that could hurt him.

Which was kind of messed up since he was already saved from being the victim.

It was all the other boys that lay in the wake of my war path that I should really be concerned about.

Except I tried that once….. I tried that with Sam and things did not end well.

“I remember,” Sloane grinned, lifting her second eyebrow to join the first. “But a house party? Seriously? I thought I raised you better than that.” She threw me a saucy grin to let me know she was kidding.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, he had this whole wining and dining event planned but when I turned him down for tonight he was already locked into this party thing. It should be fun. The guy who’s throwing it is super sweet and funny. And Chase’s whole circle of friends will be there, so….” I trailed off not really knowing where I was going with that or why I was defending the night at all. It was a party, so what? We went to parties all the time.

“Aw, I think our little Ivy is nervous,” Exie elbowed me in the ribs from where she sat in between Sloane and me. “Your rambling a little bit, sweets. Are you scared to go to the party?”

I thought about that for a minute and decided I was more than scared, I was petrified. It would be my first high school event since the accident last spring. I had plenty of reasons to be nervous but I was raised to believe that kind of anxiety was a weakness.

And I wasn’t supposed to have any weaknesses.

“Maybe just a little bit,” I smiled, hoping my nerves would be misinterpreted. “I kind of like Chase. He’s adorable in that soccer-jock-I’m-so-l-laid-back-I-should-be-a-surfer-way. You know?”

“Sure, we know,” Sloane giggled, turning her attention back to the text message she was sending to her boyfriend of the month. “Surfers in Nebraska where there aren’t even any noteworthy lakes, make complete sense.”

The three of us dissolved into laughter.

At that moment my phone lit up with an incoming message and I smiled down at Chase’s name and short note. Having fun at the family thing?

Chase was a good choice for the first boyfriend back in the game. He was low maintenance and extra sweet. He would be careful with me, even if I would eventually break his heart. He didn’t know it now, but even if he was the best thing for me, I was definitely the worst thing for him…. probably ever.

“Speak of the devil,” I mumbled with a smirk twisting my lips.

“And he shall appear,” Nix finished the phrase from the doorway. A chill slid down my spine at his reference and I couldn’t help but picture his dark mess of hair with red horns and his perfectly sculpted hands holding a pitch fork. “It’s hard to enjoy the party when you’re hiding back here ladies.” He smiled casually at first, slowly, as if he were in on our private joke, but then his expression grew more serious and he hit us with the intense severity of his dark eyes that only Nix was capable of. “Your mothers are all looking for you.”

We responded without talking, jumping to our feet in trained obedience. I tried to get to the door first, hating the idea of being the last one in the room with him. Not that I was abandoning my friends, but either of them would be safe. Nix wouldn’t try to detain them. Not yet anyway….

He caught my eye though and with an infinitesimal shake of his head I knew I had been trapped regardless of my efforts. I moved to the side and let my friends through the door. They gave me a discreetly sympathetic look before slipping into the hallway in search of their mothers.

“Ivy,” Nix greeted smoothly, piercing me with his concentrated gaze, like a knife in the gut. His expression sliced open my belly hemorrhaging heavily my insecurities and fears.

“Hey, Nix,” I replied smoothly, confidently, casually and with any other positive adverb I could convey. I forced myself to remain the picture of aloof ease, proud and relaxed. With my chin tilted just a fraction higher and my shoulders held back I faced the monster in front of me silently pleading he would believe my act.

“I thought I made it clear at dinner last night my intentions for you,” his voice was velvet and silk, assertive and authoritative, enthralling and tempting. It took an expert to notice the thinly veiled threat and strain of pure evil pulsing with each syllable.

“You did,” I smiled up at him, letting the hint of confusion show through my carefully constructed mask.

“I want you by my side, Ivy. That means tonight. That means every night,” Nix growled out, letting all pretense drop away.

Forget acting 101, my heartbeat took off in a rapid flutter of nerves, my palms began to sweat and my careful mask of control shattered in front of him. I took a step back, my ballet flats sliding against the polished wood floors with a swoosh sound that cut through the silence of the room like a knife. I hated that my fear showed through, that Nix’s face lit up with satisfaction and predatory delight, but I couldn’t stop the reaction. Even me, a girl who had been raised in this world since birth couldn’t stop the innate fear from rising up like a revolt against my actions when Nix was around. “I-“

“Don’t,” he cut me off not even allowing an excuse. I should have known better than to believe I could deceive Nix. He leaned against the door jam, tucking his hands into the pockets of his perfectly cut black trousers. “I’m not in the mood for your games. I’d be a fool not to see how you feel about this…. lifestyle. But I’d be an even bigger fool to let you go. You’re mine, Ivy. I’m not expecting you to embrace the idea, but I’m not going to do anything about it either. I will break you over time, I’m not concerned. And until then I plan on enjoying every bit of your free spirit.”

I opened and then closed my mouth, only to open and close it again. I had never really been under the impression that I was fooling Nix, but to hear everything laid out so honestly, so openly was more than a I could deal with.

He continued so I wouldn’t have to flounder. “I don’t expect you to feel good about anything I just said. When you’re as determined as you are, words like mine can only damage your pride. That feeling will fade, I promise. You just need to trust me. And if I were you I would leave your friends out of whatever rebellion you’re planning. They will be the ones getting hurt, not you. You will only be the one left to carry more guilt around. After Sam, do you really think you can handle two more lives to add to your list?”

“Are you threatening me?” I whispered in a raspy voice. The heels of my feet hit the wall with an empty thud and I realized Nix had me right where he wanted me. I was the trapped baby gazelle, while the experienced lion stalked his naïve, helpless prey. This was his plan all along, fear as motivation, friends as incentive, threats and promises to perpetuate the cycle.

“Hardly,” he sighed, taking a step forward so he towered over me. I felt small and weak next to his intoxicating masculinity. “I don’t have to threaten you because you’re not going to let this get out of hand. You’re going to bend to my will. You’re going to obey me.”

A loaded silence dragged heavily between us. I wasn’t going to agree to Nix’s outrageous demands and he wasn’t ever going to back off. Not ever.

Eventually he changed the subject. “I don’t like the idea of you going to a party tomorrow night. I think it’s too soon.”

More silence on my part. This was my job: parties, boys, drunken revelry.

“Ivy, I’m not trying to offend your pride,” Nix wisely pacified me. “I’m concerned for you well-being and nothing more. A party…. after the accident last spring, could trigger all kinds of-“

“Nix, I’m fine,” I interrupted, a sharp, determined edge to my voice. “I know what you’re going to say, but I’m better. The depression, the breakdown…. that’s not going to happen again. The crash was just…. unexpected. I’m better, Nix. I promise.” I pushed as much commitment and feeling into my words and body as possible. I couldn’t go back to treatment; I couldn’t, even for one second reveal how just not fine I really was. Nix could see through anything, every single one of my lies, but I was hoping this was a lie he wanted to believe. Or at the very least believed he could make true.

Nix’s eyes narrowed in thought, his laugh lines making a pronounced appearance as he looked me over and waited for me to recant from my knees in pleading supplication. “Ivy, the accident…. The car crash…. I know you had a soft spot for Sam, but what happened wasn’t necessarily a terrible thing. You could look at this like a sign of great things to come, you could look at this like a-“

“Nix, don’t,” I whispered desperately. I overstepped my good graces when I dared to interrupt him twice, but I could not bear to hear him put a positive spin on the accident. I destroyed someone’s life, destroyed it. There was no sign, or omen, or great thing to come. There was only me, the destroyer of men’s lives and ruiner of promising futures.

“One day you’ll understand, Ivy. One day you’ll see,” Nix promised, his eyes softening with sweet adoration. “Now, come along, you’re by my side from now on.” He held out his elbow for me and I took it obediently. The exposed skin of my forearm slid easily along the silky fabric of his expensive suit. The hard lines of his body were pressed against my side as he led me out to the rest of my party.

He was dominant strength to my fragile obedience. He was entertaining and lively to my submissive silence. I participated only when directly engaged but played the part of his pretty bobble in every way I was taught to. For now I was allowed to be sixteen, or as sixteen as any other woman in our circle was ever allowed to be. But if I didn’t do something, if I didn’t escape, I had a lifetime of this to look forward to and worse.

Sam’s drunk driving accident would only be the beginning of a never ending list of lives demolished by the notorious Ivy Pierce.