as he brings them to his mouth, one after the other.
“You wanted to talk, so talk,” I huff, leaning back in the vinyl booth and crossing my ankles. Lucas eyes my plate, red brows furrowing.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Lucas…” I warn, but he doesn’t respond right away as he grabs his burger and takes a huge bite. Juices drizzle down his chin, and it’s such a shock on the normally immaculate Lucas that I can’t help but stare. The twisted, kinky bitch inside of me imagines leaning across the table and licking his chin and lips, but I shut that shit down real fast.
“I know what I saw,” he says at last, setting his burger down as if it’s suddenly unappetizing. “And don’t even bother trying to deny it, Peony Simone. I’m not an idiot.” He sniffs, sitting up straighter in his seat.
And that’s the exact problem.
He’s not an idiot—he never has been. His warped mind sees and understands more than the average person. Maybe that’s how he rose to power in this school—blatant manipulation. He sees what the heart desires and either offers it to them for a price or he keeps it for himself, all the while cackling gleefully.
That’s what makes him the most dangerous of all the Devils.
“I can see it in your eyes,” he begins, chuckling ruefully. “You’re going to deny it, aren’t you?”
I glare defiantly. “No, I’m not going to.” I have the immense pleasure of seeing disbelief splay across his features before he reins in his shock. “Give me your phone.”
He quirks a brow but doesn’t ask questions as he slides it across the table. I quickly turn it off and shove it in my pocket. The last thing I need is him recording this conversation.
Then again, it’s not like anyone will believe him.
Only the worst of the worst will—the devils to my Devils.
“What are you?” Lucas asks abruptly, and I jerk my head back as if I’ve been slapped.
“A female. Thank you for noticing,” I quip as I shove a chicken tender into my mouth, chewing quickly.
“What you did with that doll…” He scratches absently at his chin. “It almost looked like…”
“Voodoo,” I supply at last, searching his face for any outward reaction. Instead of terrified or angry or even disbelieving, Lucas almost looks…curious.
And I can’t decide if that bodes good or bad things for me.
“Voodoo,” he repeats slowly as he takes another long sip of his shake. “Are you a…voodoo priestess?”
I can’t help it. Immediately, I break into obnoxious laughter, throwing my head back until my hair brushes the top of the booth.
“No,” I say when I finally wrangle my laughter back under control. “No, I’m not that.”
“Then what are you?” He places his elbows on the table and leans forward eagerly, eyes alight with the prospect of discovering new knowledge. Of something unexplainable. He’s always been a curious boy, desperate to uncover anything and everything this world has to offer. It’s unnerving to be the sole focus of his gaze. It feels as if he has placed me on a petri dish and is now studying me beneath a microscope. No matter what I do, I can’t hide from him.
“I’m a witch,” I admit candidly, spreading my arms wide. “A full-blooded, satanic-worshiping witch. We sacrifice pigeons and everything.”
His eyes practically bug out of his head, and he begins to choke on his shake. To see Lucas do something as mundane and normal as choke reminds me that despite his apathetic exterior, he’s still human. He’s not truly the robot I was beginning to believe he was.
“Really?” he gasps, and I laugh lightly.
“No. I mean, yes, I’m a witch, but we’re a variety of religions. And we don’t partake in blood sacrifices.” The latter statement is said almost coldly, as the picture of that missing—presumed to be dead—girl comes to the forefront of my mind. And then I picture Christian, Polo, and Gabriel surrounding her, black hoods pulled over their faces as they chanted in harsh Latin, their voices clipped and their words deadly.
“You’re a…” Lucas stares at me for a long moment without blinking before nodding once, as if this is something he has always suspected. He daintily chews on a French fry, those damn eyes of his never leaving my face.
“Did you know that red hair and blue eyes are the rarest combination in the world?” I blurt like a lunatic when he doesn’t stop fucking staring. Finally, he blinks at me, and my breath leaves my body in a