DARK INTENTIONS

Chapter 4*

Victor dropped off Madison at her house and drove up to his driveway.  Allen, his butler, opened the front door and greeted him.    He saw his mother sitting at the dinner table.  She was working on the inventory of her company.  Chic Interior is one of the most hired interior designer companies in the city.  He watched her till she looked up to see his badly bruised nose.

"Oh Victor!"  She smiled but the corners of her mouth fell.  "What happened to your face?" Mary ran and cupped her son's face.

"Mom, its nothing."  He tried to pull away. 

"Nothing?  You look like you got into a fight.  Who did it?"

"I didn't get into a fight.   I tripped and I hit my nose on a tree branch."  Why am I still saying that lie? Oh, wait.  Just say, yeah mom I got into a fistfight with a girl.  I was her punching bag.  He thought.

"Well, that must have been a funny looking tree branch."  His mother said.

"I know, huh."  Victor chuckled.

"Stop laughing and get ready, we're leaving in ten minutes."  Mary said.

"Seriously?  Mom, I just got home.  Why do I have to go?  Who are we meeting, anyways?"

"We are all going.  It's the Kaine family.  Your father is meeting us at the restaurant."

"Oh is Skylar and Dennis going to be there too?"

"Very funny mister.  You know very well that your sister is in Europe and your brother is in New York.  Now hurry up and change."  She said.

Great, now I have to see that fag again.  

*          *          *

Victor finished his shower.  He walked out of the shower stall and wiped the steam off the mirror.  He had a towel around his waist and took out his razor.  He applied the shaving cream on his face and put the razor to his right cheek when he suddenly froze.  He saw another figure in the mirror.  A man dressed in black with blood-shot eyes and a lighten rod scar along the side of his chin.  Victor knew who this man was. This man was his demon.

        Tartan

Tartan stone face showed a wicked smile and he clapped his hands at Victor.  He was leaning on the shower door.  "I'm so proud of you, my boy."  He came behind and grasped Victor's shoulder.

Victor felt the weight of Tartan's grip but when he looked behind him, he saw no one.  He turned back to the mirror and still saw Tartan standing next to him.  "Why are you so happy?  She used me as a punching bag."

"That's exactly my point.  You made contact."  Tartan said.

"Leave me alone.  I have to get ready."

"Oh, why the long face?  Going to see your boyfriend?"  Tartan teased.

Victor wanted to punch the demon's face but he knew he would be punching air.  "You better not remind me of that fag!"  He yelled.  "I'm twice the man he is.  He is not a man but a princess waiting for his prince."  Victor went back to shaving his face.

"That may be true but he is the only creature of the opposite sex to even come close to Priscilla Lane and if he wanted to, he can attempt to be intimate with her.  So he can be a princess but he is the only boy on campus that she can trust."  He pointed out.

"Are saying that I have to be her friend?"

"No, she's dessert.  What you need to do... is stalk and pounce."  Tartan's voice deepened.