Chapter Text
2. Hawk
They weren’t even halfway up the stairs when they heard Demetri shout.
Yasmine barely registered when he tripped. She heard the grunt behind her, but she didn’t pay it much mind. He was resilient—she was sure those long legs of his would spring him back into action as quickly as they toppled him over.
Mostly, she was busy gripping onto Moon like a lifeline, focused on little else but making sure her friend’s tanned skin was still underneath her fingers.
They all stopped, heads whipping around. All except Tory, anyways, who continued yanking a protesting Robby toward the ground floor.
“Uhhh…guys? A little help here?”
Yasmine recognized that tone. It was the slightly high-pitched, wavery one Demetri always used to unsuccessfully hide pants-shitting levels of terror.
A hiss echoed off the walls, and Demetri whimpered. Yasmine and Moon exchanged a panicked look.
“Demetri.” Hawk’s eyes darkened in a way Yasmine rarely saw. Even during his Stupid Evil Hair Era, wrecking Demetri’s science projects and antagonizing him during soccer games, he was more guff than anything. But now…
Hawk shoved her out of the way so hard she nearly slammed into the wall. He screamed Demetri’s name again, loud enough to shake the entire staircase.
When he broke into a run, Moon followed, tagging a reluctant Yasmine along.
Her skin felt clammy. Demetri was a goner, just like Kyler, just like all of them were about to be—
She rounded a curve of stairway to find Demetri pressed into an alcove, trembling like he was made of paper. The creature was slowly advancing on him, legs bent slightly in case he fled in either direction and it needed to give chase.
It walked on two feet, looking a little more human than earlier. Yasmine wasn’t reassured.
Something about it still didn’t move right.
She caught a glimpse of its mouth from the light of Sam’s phone. The thing smiled at its prey, slowing off a pair of long, sharpened fangs.
The only coherent thought she could form was a very stupid one: Twilight had never warned her about this.
“Hey ugly!” Hawk stepped forward, fists clenched at his side.
The creature—vampire? Could she call it a vampire?—turned, yellow eyes flashing.
“Eli, don’t—” Moon grabbed Hawk’s sleeve, trying to pull him back.
Yasmine knew it was a futile effort. Nothing could make that boy see sense in a rage, no matter what the cause of his ire was.
Hawk shrugged her off and stepped into the vampire’s path, shielding Demetri’s trembling body with his own. He bared his teeth, somehow looking more unnerving than every junkyard dog, grizzly bear, and puma Yasmine had ever seen combined.
“Touch him and I’ll fucking kill you,” he snarled.
Yasmine could almost believe it.
“Please, Eli…” Demetri’s voice came out in a hoarse rasp. “You don’t have to do this. I’m not—I’m not worth it.”
The vampire crept closer, and Hawk cracked his neck. “Bring it on, bitch.”
Rubber shoes thunked against the steps as Sam and Miguel advanced, but Hawk put up a hand to stop them.
“Stay back,” he barked out. “I’ll deal with this fuck.”
“Hawk, you can’t karate-fight a vampire…”
Miguel’s voice was more plaintive and desperate than Yasmine had ever heard it, but it fell on deaf ears. Hawk didn’t move, face hardening.
All at once, the vampire lunged.
The next Yasmine knew, Hawk was being shoved up against the wall and all fucking hell broke loose. Hawk and the vampire were a squirming mess of lashing arms and snarls and shouts, fingernails tearing at one another’s skin. Previous terror forgotten, Demetri jumped out of the alcove and sent a fierce kick ramming into the vampire’s side.
The undead creature lurched, but didn’t loosen its grip on Hawk. Yasmine saw a bony hand curl around the blue-haired boy’s neck, tilting his head up.
“Fuck.” Yasmine scanned the stairwell, frantically searching for any makeshift weapons. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Nothing but flimsy, rotting wood planks and plaster that threatened to collapse the whole building if you pulled any of it off.
A wail tore through the air. Yasmine felt a chill trickle through her.
She looked back to see Hawk’s mouth hanging open in a pained gasp, blood covering his neck.
The vampire’s teeth were buried in his skin.
Demetri let out a roar, angrier than Yasmine had ever seen him. He charged, seizing the vampire’s shoulders in a vicelike grip and wrenching up.
Yasmine knew his upper body strength was pretty damn good. She did not know it was good enough to yank a vampire out of Hawk and then chuck said vampire across the stairwell.
Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. Yasmine wondered if she had her own reserve of it, primed and ready for when some horrifying monstrosity went after Moon.
Well, it’d kick in for the others too. Right?
Demetri caught Hawk before he collapsed, panting heavily and quivering harder than his best friend had been a minute ago. The vampire looked up from where it—he? Appeared to be a guy—was sprawled on the floor, face twisted with rage.
“HEY!”
Flickering orange lit up the darkness.
Yasmine turned to see Miguel holding out a lighter, tiny flame dancing at the tip. The vampire hissed, stumbling back.
There was a sharp cracking, and seconds later Sam held two splintered wooden boards. “Miguel! Give me your lighter!”
He complied without hesitation.
The two boards blazed to life, flames crawling toward Sam’s hands at alarming speed. She threw both as hard as she could, fire forming a bright trail through the air before latching onto the vampire’s pasty skin.
His screech made Yasmine’s insides squirm. She really wished that would stop happening tonight.
“Run,” Sam ordered.
She and Miguel were already several steps up when Demetri protested. “Guys, he can’t—”
He was holding a still-shaky Hawk, the shorter boy slumped against him like wet spaghetti. From the odd angle he was holding his legs, Hawk didn’t look like he’d be doing any running any time soon.
She exchanged another look with Moon, seeing her own uncertainty etched across her friend’s face. A lot of help they’d be to a karate champion who couldn’t fucking flee.
“Fine, I’ll just—” Demetri looped long arms behind Hawk’s legs and back, scooping him up with a grunt. Hawk didn’t protest, wrapping his arms around Demetri’s neck and burying his face in his friend’s shoulder.
Yasmine was a bit unnerved by the lack of Hawk whining about how “emasculating” it all was, but more time to be concerned about that later. She and Moon made their way up the stairs, Demetri stumbling along not far behind.
Behind them, the fire roared on. The vampire didn’t follow.
The four of them found the other members of their party in some billiards room, right in the middle of a yelling match.
The gist of the argument was that Robby and Tory ditched Demetri, and that was shitty, but the rebuttal was that Sam and Miguel ditched Demetri, Hawk, Moon, and Yasmine. And with a real, bona-fide vampire and a spreading fire nearby, which Robby insisted was much worse.
Yasmine couldn’t find it in herself to give a shit. They didn’t have time for this.
“Hey! Bitches!” She shoved the door open, holding it as Demetri and Hawk stumbled in and collapsed onto the faded carpet. “We’re all alive. Now let’s focus on getting the hell out of here, shall we?”
Sam, Miguel, Robby, and Tory all stared. Yasmine scoffed. “Um, the basement’s on fire. Kyler resurrected a bunch of dead monsters and then got murdered by one. I think the stupid ghost hunt is off.”
Still no word from the four, gaping with blank expressions.
Probably not having any easier of a time processing all of this than she was.
“Look, whatever.” She sighed. “Finish bickering if you want. Get it out of your systems.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the boys, now crumpled in a heap on the floor. “I think we all need a breather anyways.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and knelt beside them. Moon followed her lead.
Hawk was lying with his head in Demetri’s lap, breathing shakily. His entire neck was caked in red, liquid still dribbling out of the two seemingly-tiny holes in his skin. His hand was intertwined with Demetri’s, both of them clutching so tightly that their fingers were turning white.
“Shit. Is he…” Yasmine gently touched Demetri’s arm. “Will he be okay?”
His head whipped to face her, eyes glinting sharply in the darkness. “A lot of help you were back there,” he snapped.
She froze. “What?”
“Eli was almost vampire lunch, and you two just stood there! Gawking like…I don’t know. A couple of spooked lemurs.”
Her jaw clenched, hand recoiling like Demetri’s skin was a heated stovetop.
“Well, what would you have me do, Demetri?” she hissed. “Beat the crap out of a fucking vampire?!”
He curled his lip. “Sure as hell didn’t stop Eli. Didn’t see him standing around with his mouth hanging open, did you?”
“Oh, right.” She scoffed. “I forgot you’re more wrapped around his dick than Moon ever was. Because ‘The Hawk’ is the shining example we should all strive to follow, isn’t he, Demetri? Punches and reckless shit and all. Never mind that he nearly got himself killed trying to…I don’t know, win a dick-measuring contest with an undead monster?!”
“Excuse me?”
Demetri’s face scrunched in on itself—the sort of pre-anger that compressed like a coiled-up spring and exploded all at once. Yasmine rarely ever saw it, but…
If she pushed him to his limits, so be it. They’d all barely scraped out of a lethal situation and watched their classmate die, and all Demetri could think to do was be an asshole.
“Well, I’m sorry that not all of us can win karate championships,” she snarled.
“I told you you should have learned how to fight.”
His eyes bore into her as he said it, daring her to contradict him. She wasn’t expecting the declaration to hurt as much as it did.
It was something they’d discussed a few times while they were dating. Yasmine always rolled her eyes, not much interested in getting punched around on some sparring deck reeking of testosterone. There were less unpleasant ways to ruin her manicures, if she was really set on it. And it wasn’t as though after the first wedgie, there’d been a steady stream of them requiring frequent self-defense.
But it wasn’t like Yasmine could have predicted this clusterfuck would happen. Still, in some roundabout way…
It felt like Demetri wanted to blame her.
Maybe that was easier than accepting this all came about because of Hawk and his stupid ghost quest. Maybe Demetri didn’t want to admit he was stupid enough to follow Hawk anywhere, and reap the harvest of the blue-haired boy’s idiotic fields right along with him.
“Guys!” A sharp voice cut into both of them like flint. They turned, almost in unison, to see Moon glowering with the kind of wrath that didn’t look like it belonged on her. “Shut up. Eli needs our help.”
Yasmine’s heart swelled with sudden admiration. Moon might have looked soft, but underneath the dangly jewelry and the luxurious shawls and the paisley-patterned shirts, she was just as tough as any Cobra Kai fighter.
“Right. Um…” Yasmine bit her lip, embarrassed. “Moon, do you have any first aid stuff? I know you carry around some creams in your purse.”
“I have some rubbing alcohol and antibacterial.” Moon smiled, pleased with herself. “Also some essential oils and healing crystals and incense—”
“Let’s just start with the medical creams.” Yasmine cut her off. Something told her the “man of science” would be none too pleased to see his ex-girlfriend shoving a shiny rock into his best friend’s bite wounds.
As Moon dug through her bag, Yasmine looked back at Hawk. His breathing was steadier, even if the dark spot on his throat had only grown larger.
His thumb stroked Demetri’s over and over, sweeping back and forth in the same repetitive movement. Yasmine felt a strange longing, although she couldn’t make out what for.
She wasn’t jealous of Hawk. She and Demetri mutually called things off. And anyhow, her interest in the opposite sex was only insofar as they could provide decent friendship, dating advice, and a convincing cover for her mom’s prying eyes.
Still, there was something about watching the boys’ tangled fingers that made her feel empty.
“I don’t know what to do.” When Demetri spoke, his voice was unusually quiet. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”
Yasmine frowned. “Should we…call 911?”
“What, and get the cops on our ass for breaking and entering?” Hawk groaned, speaking up for the first time.
“Not to mention the city property damage,” Demetri added.
“They’d charge me ten grand for the ambulance ride and then cart us all off to juvie.” Hawk rasped out a laugh. “They wouldn’t give a shit I’m bleeding out.”
Right. They should probably do something about that.
“Hey, Moon,” Yasmine called out. “You got any bandages in there?”
Moon shook her head, brow creasing in worry. “Nothing big enough.”
“Yas.” Demetri’s voice was barely audible. “Tell me there’s something.”
She’d never heard him that scared before.
“Hey, yeah.” She rubbed Demetri’s back, and he let her. “Well, uh…”
Her eyes swept the room and landed on a flickering blend of silver light and black shadows, something translucent billowing where the moon was streaming in. She slumped in relief as she made out thin strips of fabric.
“How do you guys feel about gross, dusty 80-year-old curtains?”
Demetri finally smiled. “If it stops blood, it stops blood.”
“I’ll get it, then.”
The thing was flimsy and ragged and easy to tear, but there was no shortage of cloth. Apparently whatever architect built this godforsaken manor decided the billiards room should have an absolutely obscene number of ceiling-length windows.
When she plopped the bundle of rags at Demetri’s feet, he looked at her like she’d thrown a chest of newly-minted gold bars at him.
As Moon smeared disinfectant onto the makeshift bandages, Yasmine gave Hawk her most encouraging smile. Not that it was too convincing, she was sure.
“How are you feeling?”
Hawk shuffled against Demetri, not meeting her eyes. “’m fine. I’ve had worse.”
Demetri was unimpressed. “What are you, the Black Knight? You definitely have not.”
A tap on her shoulder, and Yasmine felt dampened cloth in her palm.
“Allow me?” she asked, reaching for Hawk. Demetri gave her a skeptical look.
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “I know how to be delicate. You have to if you still want to get shit done while your nail polish is drying.”
Demetri exhaled. “Okay. Thanks, Yas.”
“I’m gonna need him to sit up, though.”
Demetri hoisted Hawk out of his lap, carefully leaning him forward. He curled a long arm around his friend’s waist, holding him in place as Yasmine wrapped strips of cloth around his neck and shoulder.
“So.” Yasmine frowned. “Are you a vampire now, or…”
Demetri shot her a glare, and she readily returned it. “What?! Someone had to ask!”
He scoffed in a manner she was all too accustomed to. “According to most vampire lore, you have to drink a vampire’s blood before you turn. Eli’s going to be fine.”
Hawk rolled his eyes. “You worry too much. It’s just a stupid cut.”
Yasmine curled her lip, unconvinced. “You look like shit.”
“I d’know.” He smirked at her. “I think I look pretty good for a guy that goes down on lawnmowers.”
“Shit.” Her cheeks burned. “You heard that?”
“Oh, relax. I have better things to do than wallow in despair about it. I honestly felt sorry for you that you couldn’t think up a better insult.”
She stared at him in disgust as he cackled. “Hawk Moskowitz, so help me, I will stop bandaging your stupid vampire bite.”
Demetri gave her a look that could put his favorite laser-eyed superheroes to shame. She held up a hand in surrender.
“I’m kidding, Demetri, sheesh! Relax.”
The lanky boy watched her like…well, a hawk as she finished up. Yasmine wondered if any of Hawk’s evil bird traits were bleeding over onto her ex-boyfriend.
She found herself hoping they were, mainly because it sounded funny. Although exactly how funny could be assessed after they got out of this absolute hellhole of a movie set.
Demetri stood up, pulling Hawk with him. To Yasmine’s relief, he didn’t seem to need help staying on his feet.
Miguel looked him over, frowning in concern. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah.” Hawk rolled his shoulders in the most exaggerated display of unperturbedness Yasmine had ever seen. “No problemo.”
“We should go,” Sam said gravely. “Miguel and I think we remember the way back to the front door.
Thank all the powers that be, no one, not even Hawk, argued.
They turned into yet another long, snaking hallway, and Yasmine had to wonder if at least some of The Shining had been filmed in this godforsaken place.
She’d fallen into step in the back of the group, beside Demetri, Hawk, and Moon. Sam and Miguel were leading with Tory and Robby not far behind.
Something about Hawk was off.
He’d brushed off the basement incident with surprising ease, shoddily-bandaged neck barely seeming to bother him at all. He wasn’t in any apparent pain, anyways, walking steadily beside Demetri with arms crossed across his chest.
His complexion, though. It looked almost…sickly?
Infections didn’t set in that fast, did they? And anyhow, Yasmine was sure she and Moon did a pretty stellar job disinfecting the damn thing, especially considering how they sacrificed their matching orange-and-purple Halloween manicures for it. Only the most important jobs were ever allowed to get stains on her nail polish, blood or otherwise.
“Hawk?” She pursed her lips. “You okay?”
“Huh?” He looked at her with a surprised expression, like it took him a moment to realize she spoke. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just kind of cold.”
Well. That was concerning. Among all of them, Hawk had always been bothered by obscene temperatures the least. She’d seen him wear tank tops over Christmas break and track pants and hoodies all summer. Boy’s temperature regulation was something else.
“Why didn’t you say so?” Demetri ripped off his orange flannel and wrapped it around Hawk with more zest than a hungry boa constrictor. He threw an arm around the shorter boy, apparently eager to share as much body heat as humanly possible.
The way Hawk looked up at him—big, shiny, pitiful blue puppy eyes—made Yasmine gag. “My god, get a room.”
“Well, I’m sorry that we’re unable to prioritize privacy in the middle of this haunted mansion, Yasmine.”
The tone in which he said it made her wonder again how she—or anyone else, for that matter—had ever thought Demetri was straight.
Yasmine kept glancing at Hawk as they walked. Even with his improved body temperature, something still didn’t seem quite right.
She wondered what she was missing. Or maybe…what Demetri refused to acknowledge.
“You sure you’re not turning into—”
“Oh, give me a break.” Demetri cut her off, answering for Hawk. “Don’t freak him out with your complete lack of vampire knowledge.”
She shrugged. “I guess you never could really get me into Buffy.”
“Precisely why you need to let the experts handle this.” He wrinkled his nose in the condescending way that had once led to him buying her many a new bracelet. “You didn’t even get past Season 1. What would you know about the undead? Or blood exchange? Or the difference between vampires and zombies? Please—this isn’t a discussion for amateurs.”
Yasmine curled her lip, looking away. She forgot sometimes how mind-numbingly annoying Demetri could be.
“Yas.”
Only after a moment did she deign to look at him. She tipped her head expectantly, waiting for him to continue.
“I’m kidding.” Demetri’s eyes softened. “Thank you for helping. And I’m sorry about earlier.”
She exchanged a tired look with Moon.
“It’s fine,” she sighed. “We were all stressed. I’m glad Hawk’s okay.”
Demetri and Hawk moved as one creature—hips pressed together, Hawk tucked tightly under Demetri’s arm. They were in their own little world, Demetri murmuring into Hawk’s ear and the other boy laughing softly from time to time.
Yasmine stayed close to Moon. She wondered how her friend could be so calm and collected through all this—the pacifist and peacemaker, abruptly exposed to more blood and pain than anyone should be in a lifetime. And yet here she was, holding them all together and keeping them focused while Yasmine and Demetri dissolved into petty squabbling.
None of them deserved Moon. She was strong in ways Yasmine could only imagine.
At last, they stepped into some kind of foyer. Yasmine’s relief dissolved when she heard Tory gasp.
“Shit.”
“What is it?”
Yasmine grabbed Moon’s arm and pulled her to where the other four teens were staring out of a front window.
The moonlit lawn was crawling with zombies.
At least that’s what Yasmine assumed they were. A crowd of humanoid…things were aimlessly lumbering around, feet dragging and patches of greenish flesh falling off.
“There has to be a gun in here somewhere,” Sam said. “If we could find one, we could shoot our way out.”
Yasmine rolled her eyes. “They’d all be prop guns. Besides, where would we even look?”
“She’s right.” Moon stepped up beside her, and Yasmine felt her chest warm. “We need another weapon. A crowbar, maybe? There could be some metal scraps in here we could make into something.”
Miguel shook his head. “Anything that’s not a range weapon isn’t going to work. I’ve seen the movies—one zombie gets close enough to bite you and you’re done for.”
“Maybe there’s another way out.”
They all turned to Robby.
“Places like this sometimes have underground passages leading out,” he said. “Like extra emergency exits for rich people.”
Yasmine frowned. She didn’t know Robby Keene too well, but he didn’t seem like the sort who’d be familiar with the inner workings of the Beverly Hills elite.
“How do you know that?” She tried, without success, to keep the scorn out of her voice. “Didn’t you grow up around like…Receda?”
The smile he gave her had just a hint of derision in it. “I used to hang out with kind of a bad crowd. We did a lot of research, and uh…figured out how to rob places like this. You get in from the secret tunnels and you can bypass a lot of security.”
“Don’t look so horrified.” Tory must have seen the shock that flashed across Yasmine’s face. “These people wouldn’t miss half the pricey shit they collect. They only really get it to show off, anyways.”
Yasmine was opening her mouth to argue when she felt Moon squeeze her arm.
“Don’t. Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”
She sighed, shrugging off the ex-Cobras’ judgmental looks. “All right, so. Where are these underground passages, anyways? The basement is a little, uh…on fire.”
“Forgot about that.” Tory groaned. “Great. Something else to deal with.”
“Doubt it.” Miguel shrugged. “Most of the wood down there was pretty soggy. Or…mildewey, at least. The fire probably won’t spread.”
“We shouldn’t have to go down there, anyways,” Robby said. “Places like this usually have more than one basement.”
“They what?!”
Yasmine’s mouth hung open. That was a new one, even for her.
“Sure.” Robby said it like it was the most mundane thing in the world. “You just have to know the right floorboards to look for. They’re always a little off above a trap door.”
Yasmine figured it was just as well that she accept this boy’s weirdly extensive breaking-and-entering knowledge and move on. If it got them out of here alive, far be it from her to bitch about how…questionably he attained it.
“All right, then,” she said. “It’s a big house, so we’d better start looking.”
It was only when the group started to disperse that Yasmine noticed Hawk and Demetri hadn’t re-joined them.
She spotted them a few paces away. Hawk was sitting with his back against a staircase while Demetri crouched beside him, hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Um…guys?” When Hawk spoke, his voice was unusually feeble. “I don’t feel so great.”
Yasmine took a step closer. The boy was shivering, despite the extra warmth of Demetri’s flannel.
Miguel stepped up beside her, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m…really hungry. And uh.” Hawk’s hand strayed to his cheek. “My mouth is super itchy.”
“Hang on!” Moon started digging through her purse. “I’m sure I have a granola bar in here somewhere.”
Yasmine smiled to herself. She knew exactly the type—fat and gluten-free peanut butter and chocolate, enhanced with protein supplements. They tasted kind of disgusting, but she’d refrained from ever mentioning this to Moon.
“I feel weird.” Hawk scratched at his jaw, and Demetri’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “I’m…Demetri, I’m—”
He didn’t finish. Yasmine knew why—Hawk Moskowitz would rather die than admit to anything even slightly resembling fear.
“You’re going to be okay.” Demetri’s voice was so soft Yasmine had to strain to hear it. “But we need to go. We’ll get you help soon, I promise. Can you still walk?”
Hawk nodded. Demetri pulled him to his feet, arm wrapped around his shoulder again.
Robby started off down a side hallway, and the rest followed. Yasmine and Moon lagged again, stealing glances at the group’s resident hackers.
Moon especially couldn’t stop checking on Hawk, frowning in concern every time she looked at him. Yasmine tried not to read too much into it.
Moon and Hawk broke up around the same time her and Demetri did—a little sooner, if Yasmine remembered correctly. Moon had tried—really tried—to feel the sparks again, but she just couldn’t.
Not that it should’ve mattered to Yasmine whether Moon was still carrying a torch for anyone. Yasmine had her shot sophomore year, and she annihilated it with a pipe bomb.
In any case, Demetri was fussing over Hawk enough for both of them.
He was murmuring softly in the other boy’s ear, squeezing his shoulder every so often. Whatever he was saying, he seemed to be staving off any potential mental breakdowns.
At least until Hawk stumbled back, crying out. His back hit the wall and he clutched at his mouth.
“Something’s not right.” His voice came out in a muffled whimper, lips hidden behind his hand. “I’m so—I’m so cold. I can’t stop shaking.”
“Low blood sugar?” Demetri turned to Moon. “You got any more of those granola bars?”
Not that Hawk had seemed to particularly enjoy the first one Moon found for him. Still, if he was hungry enough to be this much of a nervous wreck…
Hawk’s eyes glinted strangely at the word “blood.” That probably wasn’t good.
“Eli.” Demetri inched toward him, hand outstretched. “It’s going to be okay. Just breathe for me, all right?”
Hawk shook his head, the undersides of his eyes growing wet. “My mouth hurts. I don’t know why. Wh—what the hell is happening to me?”
The words came out in a frantic rush. Demetri clamped a hand onto Hawk’s shoulder and held fast.
Moon wasn’t far behind, creeping toward the two boys with her face tight with worry.
Hawk’s gaze flicked back and forth between the two of them, expression difficult to read. There was something almost…vacant about it.
Cold. Calculating. Hungry.
Yasmine suddenly got the impression that between all of them, Hawk wasn’t the one she should be worrying about.
“Moon! Demetri!” she shouted, surprising herself with the force in her voice. “Get the hell back!”
They turned and gave her puzzled looks, apparently too wrapped up in their concern to realize anything was amiss.
She charged forward, seizing an arm on each of her friends and pulling as hard as she could. Moon stumbled back, but Demetri yanked himself free and gave her a poisonous look.
“He’s dangerous, Demetri.” Without thinking, Yasmine drew Moon behind her arm. “He was eyeing you up like a piece of fucking prey!”
“You’re insane,” he spat. “Eli wouldn’t hurt me. Not ever again. He’s my friend.”
“Not anymore.” She shook her head, her own eyes beginning to sting. “The vampire did something to him. Get your head out of your ass and accept it.”
Her voice trembled, and she knew she was crying. She didn’t care.
“Dem, she’s right.” Hawk’s voice was a strangled whisper. Brief clarity washed over his features, and blue eyes flashed with panic.
“I think I’m gonna…I’m gonna…I don’t know, but I need you to get away!”
Yasmine backed up, pushing Moon with her. Demetri didn’t budge.
“Fuck you!” Demetri’s eyes blazed into Hawk’s, although Yasmine could see there were tears in them. “I’m not fucking leaving you. Not now, not ever. Just…tell me what you need, Eli. Please.”
Hawk let out a sob, fingers tensing against the peeling plaster of the wall.
“I need to eat.”
Later, Yasmine would be grateful that the next part happened as fast as it did. The at least it was over quickly.
Hawk lunged, arms lashing out and clamping across Demetri’s back. Demetri didn’t even have time to push back before his best friend’s teeth were in his neck.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t squirm or fight or even whimper. All he did was exhale sharply, going completely limp in Hawk’s steely grip.
The blood that pooled on Demetri’s skin and dribbled down his t-shirt was thick and dark, gleaming faintly in the dim light from the windows. And it just kept coming—and endless, murky waterfall drenching Demetri’s body and Hawk’s mouth. Draining the life from him as it spilled out.
Yasmine wanted to vomit.
After a moment, the rational part of her brain caught up with her. They were next.
She grabbed Moon’s hand and squeezed it. “Run.”
She didn’t dare look back. All she could think of was the betrayal that would be etched across Demetri’s face, and the hatred she’d see if she met those glassy green eyes one last time.