W\\CKED

Oh So Wick\\d...

[Sanny]

Kaydrien Singh was leaning against a lamp in the beach parking lot, the glow from above casting his face in sharp shadows and soft highlights as he cradled a ruby red vape between his lips.

"Nice ride," he greeted as we clambered out of the sedan.

"You're lucky we got to come at all," I replied. "If Kurt hadn't..." 

"Ken," Kurt corrected.

I ignored him. "...fallen for the most blackmail-worthy trick I ever pulled, Asshole Abrams would be locking me in some instrument of torture in his dungeon right now."

"It's not a dungeon, it's a wine cellar," Jul protested.

Kay gave the bodyguard a sympathetic smile. The scowling hunk of meat avoided staring at Kay the way he had the first time they met, studiously rubbing the spot on his arm where Griffin stabbed him with a needle full of WTFU juice.

Kaydrien was the most gorgeous jailbait in Old Green, a popular New England homestead for posh one-percenters who wanted to live a short commute away from NYC, and as the spoiled step-brat of one of the richest talent managers in the music business, Kay knew how to dress like a million-dollar boy toy. Tonight, that meant a shimmering red top short enough to show off his slim brown stomach, and thousand-dollar pants that could only fit around hips as straight as his. His perfectly coiffed bed head probably took two hours to arrange, and his nails, each one decorated with slender snakes coiling together in tiny drops of silver and green, put the uneven black lines I painted on myself to shame. Kay was probably the only teenager attending Hallowfest minus a costume, and he'd probably still be the one who got noticed the most.

"You should've let me pick you up." He blew mist from his vape into the soft radiance of the street lamp. "I would have given you a ride worth taking, Sandra."

I rolled my eyes. "It's still Sanny, and you're still my ex-ride, playboy." Kay was a first-class flirt who knew how to promise the world with his eyes, but in private, all those promises evaporated into smoke.

"Just taking the idea out for a test drive." Kaydrien turned to Juliet. "Ready to collect our front row seats?" He held out his arm like a gentleman and led her toward Hallowfest.

A narrow cliff made of blue point granite cut across the beach, plowing right into the bay until it slid under the water's dark surface. An outdoor stage had been set smack up against the granite's towering form, making the members of the band currently performing look like flailing ants.

The beach was packed. We maneuvered our way around a cluster of cat girls pressing their fur-lined bikinis against high school sports stars dressed up as college sports stars. In Old Green, beach concerts belonged to the kids who got yachts for graduation gifts. We didn't fit with that crowd, which made us something different, something hidden drifting through their normally transparent world. I wondered if any of them had the nerve to step forward and unveil our secrets.

Someone yanked my hood down from behind. I spun around.

"Thought it was you." Tyler smiled in that confident, king of the world way that only a self-centered prick thinks he can pull off. If the direction of his gaze was any indication, he was talking to my cleavage. "What's your costume? Medieval slut?"

"What's yours?" I eyed his toga. "Friendly fraternity rapist?"

"Admit it. You miss having your hands all over my fraternity."

I could tell he was hoping for a reply like, "Give me a tour of your fraternity, baby." Never mind that I dumped him two years ago during a pep rally in front of the entire academy; he'd board my yacht in a second if I gave him so much as a friendly smile.