Jennifer sat up, shaking and dripping with sweat, the dream hanging on like a frightened child. She glanced over at the closet and shivered at the wide open door. Her foggy, hung-over mind clenched and she blinked a few times, just staring at the door. Wasn’t it closed this morning?

She bit her lip, swearing Steve had closed it before he left.

Didn’t he?

Unsure of which parts of her memory were real and which were dreams, she stared at that opening. “He closed it,” she said to the empty room. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away from the gaping closet and glanced at the clock. It was almost ten. She swung her legs out of the bed, giving the closet a wide berth. She opened the shades, spilling light into the room.

“Come on,” she said, stubbornly shaking her head. “It was only a dream.” She took a tentative step toward the closet. Like Flash Gordon, she reached in and flipped on the light.

Only clothes and shoes, see?

She scanned the rack from the safety of the bedroom. Her focus zoomed in on an outfit and again she shot in, ripped the outfit off the hanger and hopped out.

Chuckling at her skittishness, she turned the light off, closing the closet door.

In the changing room, she caught a quick glance of herself in the mirror and stopped. Her heart hammered against the walls of her chest and her reflection paled. Burn marks in the shape of fingers wrapped around both her wrists. The clothes dropped to the floor and her lungs started their slow restriction, strangling the breath from her. The world tilted to slow motion and her hand rose to move her hair away from her shoulder, the other picking up the vanity mirror. Jennifer turned, holding the looking glass so she could see the reflection of her back. Forcing her eyes to stay glued to the image, she moved the hair away. Her hand squeezed the handle of the mirror tight and her eyes grew wide. The wheeze coming from her lungs now whistled in quick panting beats.

Red welts. Red welts in the shape of hands. Red welts exactly where it had touched her in the dream.

“Jesus.”

Shaking, she receded into the shower, locking the door behind her and letting the hot steam clear her lungs. She ran the soap over her skin, the cucumber and melon scent drifting on the air, mingling with her fear, and her eyes never left the locked shower door. When she finished shampooing her hair, she turned the water off and wrapped a towel around herself, tentatively stepping out of the steam and into the cool room.

Jennifer dressed quickly and ran a brush through her hair. All the while, her heart rattled against her rib cage like a fluttering bird caught in an unfamiliar house. She expected the thing to come bursting through the door at any moment and couldn’t get out of the apartment fast enough. Hurrying down the hall, she grabbed her keys and slid the flip-flops by the door on her feet. She ripped open the door and let out a surprised yelp.

Bill stood with his fist inches from the wood, getting ready to knock. “Just the person I was looking for,” he said and stepped into the doorway.

“Billy, I’m going to be late for my lunch date,” she said, trying to scoot past him.

“Yes, you are.” He closed the door behind him, blocking her escape.

“What the...,” Jennifer began.

Bill punched her in the temple and she went down cold.

The ritual had begun.

Chapter 34

Bill smiled at his handiwork and glanced over his shoulder at the closed doors of the crypt Adam and Joe guarded. Up until the moment he had Jennifer in the trunk of his car, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull this off. Now, in the darkness of the tomb, anticipation boiled in his blood. Goosebumps covered his skin at the sight of her laid out on the altar, unconscious, naked, helpless.

When he ran his fingertips over her bound body, she shivered under his touch. He stepped back, studying her. A frown crossed his lips. He moved closer, lifting her head and fanning her hair out on the grey stone.

Better.

Satisfied, he crossed into the shadows, letting the vision of her fill his eyes. Need swelled in him and he reached for the small square package in his back pocket. Twirling it between his thumb and forefinger, he waited.

Jennifer’s moan echoed in the chamber. Her head tilted away from the bright sun that spilled through the stained glass windows, shading the room in a collage of colors. Her hand stopped short of her face, the shackle chain rattling and scraping against the stone. Her eyes fluttered open. Deep creases appeared in her forehead as her eyes darted from the mosaic painting of Paradise Cove in the ceiling to the painted window. When she lifted her head, another groan escaped her lips and her head bounced back on the stone with a thud. The swelling in her right temple had abated, but the ugly purple bruise stood out against her tanned skin.

“Lay back, Jen,” Bill said, bringing her attention to him. He stepped out of the shadows, twirling the package in his hand restlessly.

“Where am I?” She glanced at her right hand, staring at the metal shackle around her wrist. Her head jerked to her restrained left hand, and her eyes went wide, falling back on Bill.

“In a mausoleum in the cemetery,” Bill answered. Approaching her, he ran his hand up the inside of Jennifer’s exposed thigh. “Anticipation—what an odd choice of words for you to hone in on, yet such an accurate description.” He stroked her pussy.

Jennifer tried to jerk away from him, her breath hitching in her chest. “Don’t.”

Ignoring her plea, he continued stroking her with the back of his knuckles. “You are the annual sacrifice this year.”

“What? What sacrifice?” she asked, turning her head to the right, taking in the rest of the mausoleum. Hanging from the wall were several bones in the shape of pentacles and on the floor was a large pentacle painted in red. Her tear-filled eyes landed back on Bill. “Please don’t do this,” she said.

He let his eyes take her in before he slid his finger in her dry path, hard enough to make her breath lock in her chest. “You weren’t supposed to fall for him, Jen, and you certainly weren’t supposed to fuck him,” he said, letting the anger and jealousy take over. He continued to slam his fingers inside her, the frustration growing. He glared at her, grinding his teeth. “Why’s your cunt so dry today Jen? The other night it was dripping wet.”

A wrinkle appeared between her confused eyes.

“On the couch, you came for me.” He grazed her with his eyes. “I wanted to bury my face in your pussy and suck the cum out of you.” His eyes met her horrified glare. “Tracy would never have known—she was passed out drunk in the bedroom.

Jennifer’s lower lip quivered and the tears slid down her cheeks. She shook her head, unable to speak.

Bill sighed. “Instead, I went and fucked her. I didn’t care that she was unconscious, it was better than screwing this up. But now, now that I’ve got you here.” Leaning over, he parted her with his hands and ran his tongue inside her, tasting her. At the same time, he ran his hand up her trembling stomach until he reached the soft mounds of her chest. He squeezed, pinching her nipples until tears sprung from her eyes.

“Billy, please don’t do this!”

Standing, he licked his lips and pulled his hand away, laughing at the dying hope that flared in her eyes. “Ever since the day we met I’ve wanted to fuck you and you were dead wrong about it never happening. You see, tonight we all get to fuck you.”

“No!” Jennifer screamed.

Bill laughed, meeting her fiery gaze and reveling in her fear. He gave a curt nod. “You’re Beta Theta Pi’s whore now.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jennifer screamed, struggling to get free. “Steve is going to kill you.”