Bloodshed (Order of the Unseen, #1)(20)

Jack-o-lanterns line the sidewalk leading toward the front door. This place is packed with decorations, from neon spotlights at the front entrance, to cobwebs laid over the bushes. The entire front yard is staged as a graveyard, covered in plastic headstones and fake bones.

Just as she reaches the front door, my phone vibrates.

It’s the group chat.

Micah

What’s your location?





I squint my eyes to get a better glimpse at the house number.

Me

669 Lynde Street. How soon can you get here?

Jensen

I’m right down the street.

Micah

Almost done here.





Good, I reply, before slipping my phone back into my pants pocket beneath my costume.

It’s late, so all of the little kids have finished their trick-or-treating for the night. Scanning the area outside of the house, I don’t happen to catch anything out of the ordinary. It’s pretty quiet.

Almost too quiet.

Upon crossing the street, I make my way to the front door as a small group of people stumble outside. This party is definitely a banger. The music is loud as I step through the doorway, taking in the sight of all the college kids dressed in costume, having the time of their completely mundane lives.

How devastatingly boring.

The thick layer of smoke from a fog machine makes it more difficult to see, especially through the eyes of my mask. I scan the living room, but she’s nowhere in sight. It would be out of character for her to start her night with dancing anyway.

She rarely ever goes to parties.

I follow my gut, and it leads me down the tightly-packed hallway toward the kitchen. Leaning my shoulder against the doorway, I glance inside.

There she is.

Standing at the kitchen island, she pours liquor into a red, plastic solo cup.

A kid in Joker makeup approaches her.

“Good choice,” he says from over her shoulder, staring down at her perfect little ass. “Really does pack a punch.”

I snort.

Really, pal?

Clenching my jaw, I cock my head to the side, observing his every movement.

A group of kids walking past me talk loudly, drowning out Quinn’s response. I couldn’t really give a fuck about his shitty conversation tactics. I get a bad vibe from this guy.

Beneath the caked-on makeup, I’m almost positive I know who he really is.

“Kevin,” another kid calls from across the room. Ah, ha. There it is. “You coming with us?”

“What’s your name, again?” Kevin asks her, as if he doesn’t know.

Although, he knows exactly who she is.

And he’s had his eye on her for much too long.

“Quinn,” she na?vely replies.

He smirks, his gaze traveling down her delectable body. “See you around, Quinn.”

No.

You won’t.

That, I’ll make sure of.

Kevin walks away, and I can’t help but notice sorrow behind her gaze. She looks so miserable. Being at this party definitely isn’t her cup of tea.

A tall figure wearing a Jason mask steps through the doorway and stands beside me. Jensen. He looks my way, then follows my gaze across the room, meeting our next target. He nods in understanding. Before I know it, we’re following him and his friend outside, trailing closely behind.

“Hey, Kevin,” I sadistically call out.

Him and his friend spin around, facing us.

“What’s up?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest and hardening his posture.

“Oh, he’s a tough guy,” I mock.

Kevin snarls, uncomfortable. “What the fuck do you want?” he demands. “Who are you?”

“The last person in the world you want to fuck with,” I retort as I approach him.

His face slightly softens, yet he remains on edge. “But you’re too pussy to take off your mask?”

His friend chuckles at his comment.

I shoot him a glare, and even though he can’t see it, he shuts right up.

Turning back to Kevin, I impatiently exhale. “It’s time for a chat,” I say. “You’re going to stay the fuck away from my girl.”

His eyes narrow. “Who?”

“Quinn.”

“And if I don’t—”

Before he can even finish his smug remark, I have him on the ground, the tip of my switchblade pressed to his neck. “I eat punks like you for breakfast, Kevin.” I laugh, as he squirms beneath me. “I really want to know what sounds you make when there’s a gaping slit in your throat.”

“What the fuck,” he stammers, staring up at me with horrified eyes.

“You won’t ‘see her around’,” I confirm, drawing one, small bead of blood as I slightly slice into his skin. “Because if you do happen to see her, you’re going to run in the other direction with your tiny dick tucked between your legs,” I order. “And if you don’t, then I’ll cut your cock and balls off, and I’ll feed them to your good pal over here,” I warn, snapping my head to the side to lock my gaze on said friend. “You hungry for some rancid dick, Robby?”

He immediately shakes his head, terror and disgust dancing in his eyes. “No,” he barks out, visibly shaking.