Vestals

Preview

As Siobhan made her way back out on the dance floor, she swayed to the music, her eyes glued to the balcony, watching intently. Hannah had quietly positioned herself to the back of the group, blending in with all the other beautiful women. Siobhan glanced at her watch. It was barely eleven. This is going to take a while, she thought darkly. But then Hannah locked eyes with her and nodded her head just behind Siobhan.

Siobhan raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. Then Siobhan felt hands creep around her waist as warm breath fanned across the nap of her neck. Hannah’s smirk was barely noticeable as she looked away, joining the other girls in a fit of giggles as the band made their way into the VIP section.

Siobhan understood.

She leaned back, wrapping her hand around the head that was buried in her neck. She felt him inhale as they swayed to the music.

“You smell good,” he said with a thick accent.

Siobhan continued to move to the beat as he planted kisses up and down her neck. She hoped he wouldn’t notice the rigidness she was trying desperately to mask. She had seen lovers before, watched how they touched each other, the comfort they felt with each other, but her body was unuse to touch, and more importantly, she was concerned the man behind her would feel her reaching for her knife. But then she felt a prick at her hip.

Siobhan straightened suddenly.

Was that a stud? Did I shock myself on his belt?

“My apologies, Vestal,” he said between kisses.

“But we are in need of guidance.”

Siobhan whipped her head around. The man was lanky but not overtly tall. His face was handsome, with a long Roman nose and a chisel jaw line. He wore a pair of dark gray trousers, and a button-up shirt, opened at the third button. His eyes were lined in a dark coal-color, and his lips were glossed in a soft red.

Siobhan faintly heard the screams of the other partygoers as her vision blurred.

“It’s Sebastian!”

“Oh My God!”

“Sebastian!”

The last thing Siobhan saw before everything went black was the darkly amused stare of the lead singer of Mollo Scuro.

Prologue

The woman’s eyes darted between the men at the door and the other ones in the hallway. With a shaky breath, she dashed to the other end of the hall, narrowly avoiding another attacker who swung his gun violently in her direction, firing a load of shots that by the mercy of their mother, missed her. As the Vestal ran towards the atrium, she called out frantically to the others.

“Sisters! Sisters!”

The Vestal nearly slipped as she entered between the pillars leading out to the courtyard. Some warm and thick blanketed the bottoms of her feet. With a soft gasp, the woman looked down

Oh no.

Her eyes darted out at the carnage before her. Bodies and large pools of blood splaying across the tiled floor, making an abstract mosaic of death and grief. The Vestal let out a shaky cry as she crumbled to the floor.

They’re dead. They’re all dead.

A gun clicked behind her as the Vestal turned her head. She felt the gaze of a man. Even through his thick goggles, she felt his gaze. His excitement. His pleasure at incurring destruction. Especially their destruction.

Something vile rose from her throat as he came closer and closer. His gun was unlike the others. It was small and delicate and glistened beneath the light of the silvery moon.

The Vestal spat out a curse as he advanced,

“May the floorboards crack beneath your feet. May the ceilings crumble over your head.”

Undeterred, the man raised his gun.

“May Hermes take your pillars.”

Tears gathered as the Vestal closed her eyes.

“May the sacred fires never warm you.”