Being one of the Devil's children is tough, especially when you have a heart of gold like Lux Morgenstern. She's spent her life flying under the radar, avoiding trouble and prying eyes. But everything changes when she captures the attention of Micha...
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I could have said no.
I should have said no.
So why did I end up saying yes? It's rare for me to attend the many parties I'm invited to, and yet, every time I give in, I'm left with this one question: why did I say yes?
The event in question won't happen until next week, yet the entire university campus where I teach is already buzzing about it as if it's the party of the year. When my classes end, I hear the excited whispers of those lucky enough to have received an invite, and the frustrated murmurs of those who missed that fateful message earlier in the day. When some people don't even seem to know this exists, which makes it all the more strange.
I wasn't really aware of the significance of that famous night until two people from the group I work with spoke to me about it passionately. One of them—a stunning girl with features crafted to please the eye—insisted at length that I, especially, shouldn't miss it.So, as I seem incapable of saying no, I simply replied yes, softly but audibly, cursing that three-letter word as I do every time it slips out of my mouth without my consent.
I know how to lie, hide, come up with excuses, or disappear for weeks without a word, but there's one thing I don't know how to do: stand my ground.
I don't belong at this kind of party; I feel out of place, an intruder in a world that isn't mine—especially since I've forbidden myself from being part of it, fearing I might lose control. It's not because I'm not entirely human that I feel this discomfort. When I think about it, my older sister and my younger brother—who, like me, also had a human mother—love this kind of pastime. It's simply that it doesn't suit me. It's not the image people have of me.
I am known for loving the calm, cozy atmosphere of libraries, the silence broken only by whispers, the turning of pages, and the tapping of keyboards. It's nothing like the hours of loud debauchery that everyone around me seems to dream of. Ideally, the underground tunnels where this orgy of hope and forced sociability will take place will collapse before I have to slip into a dress that's too short and too tight, and I'll have a solid chance of lying under my comforter with a book instead.
But I'm not counting on it.
The sky is gray outside, with heavy, dark rain clouds pouring down on the city's sidewalks. I'm sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching the dance of mist and shadows created by the sky, my phone lying in front of me. I've already spent an hour doing nothing but listening to music and staring outside, lost in thought, when my smart little device starts vibrating, notifying me of a text from Tess.
Big sis: From the depths of my country, I've heard about the catacombs party. Tell me you're going.
Why bother saying 'hello' when you're my sister? It's a formality far too unnecessary and time-consuming for her; it doesn't suit her, and my only reaction is to roll my eyes. Could she have sensed what's been on my mind from so far away? There must be, what, 8,306 kilometers between us, and she manages to bring up the one subject I'd prefer not to think about, right now of all times?
