Chapter 52: Deals with Devils

Jack reached his desk, grabbing his jacket. He turned back around, his red eyes locking onto her terrified form by the door.

"Well?" Jack prompted.

"I—I’ll do it," Blair stuttered out, her voice cracking.

Jack paused, sliding one arm into his jacket sleeve. He raised a dark eyebrow.

"I’ll offer you my body," Blair continued, digging her fingernails into her palms to try and steady her erratic breathing. "For an hour."

Jack froze. The jacket hung loosely off his shoulder.

He stared at the small, trembling human girl pressed against the doors. She looked terrified of him. She believed he was going to hurt her. And yet, she had just chosen to offer her body to him over answering a single, simple question.

Blair didn’t know it, but she had just confirmed the very thing she was trying so desperately to hide. She had a secret. She had something to protect. Something so massive, so important, that she was willing to surrender her own body to keep it concealed.

A slow, dark smirk spread across Jack’s face. He found it oh so interesting.

"A foolish choice, Miss Willows," Jack hummed, finishing pulling his jacket on and adjusting his cuffs. "But a deal is a deal."

Blair instantly panicked. Her stomach twisted into tight, painful knots. Why didn’t I just say no?

Besides the overwhelming fear of the monsters waiting outside, a tiny, treacherous part of her brain admitted it was curious. She wondered what exactly he wanted to do with her.

It’s only once, Blair told herself frantically, trying to rationalize her terrible decision. I’ll just survive tomorrow, and then I’ll convince Daemus to escort me home at night from now on. I sort of enjoy Daemus’s company anyway.

Jack walked over, stopping right beside her as he reached for the door handle.

"It is already quite late," Jack murmured, looking down at her. "I will collect on your offer later."

Blair let out a quiet, trembling sigh of relief, nodding her head stiffly. At least she had a few hours to mentally prepare for whatever twisted things he had planned.

Jack pushed the door open, stepping out into the freezing night air.

The walk back to Dormitory G was agonizingly silent. Jack didn’t say a word. He kept a steady pace, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, his presence somehow keeping the oppressive, foggy shadows at bay.

Blair kept a few paces behind him, her mind racing. She felt fortunate that he wasn’t speaking to her, but the silence felt heavy. He was probably plotting. An hour was a very long time to be tortured. It was Saturday and instead of studying or sleeping in, she was dreading it like an execution date.

They reached the steps of her building. Blair was about to offer a quiet "thank you," but when she turned around, no one was there.

Jack had vanished into the mist without a sound.

Blair shivered, pulling her hoodie tight, and hurried inside the building.

She climbed the creaky stairs and unlocked Room 204. The moment she pushed the door open, a wave of sadness washed over her.

The room was pristine.

Heather’s side of the room was stripped bare. The fluffy pink blanket, the fairy lights, the massive makeup organizer—everything was gone. The mattress was empty, save for the standard-issue gray sheets folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

Blair stood in the doorway, staring at the empty space.

The academy administration hadn’t wasted any time. They had officially declared Heather dead. The efficiency of it all was sickening. Blair wondered about Heather’s family. Would the school even notify them? Or would her parents just sit at home, wondering why their daughter hadn’t written to them in so long?

A hot tear pricked the corner of Blair’s eye. She aggressively wiped it away, closing the door and locking it tight.

Blair grabbed a towel and retreated to the bathroom. She turned the shower on as hot as it would go, standing under the weak spray until her skin turned pink and the bathroom mirrored fogged up completely.

When she finally stepped out, wrapping the towel tightly around herself, she wiped a clear circle into the condensation on the mirror.

She stood perfectly still, staring at her reflection.

It was the face she had known since childhood. The face she recognized to be her. The face she would describe if someone asked her what she looked like. Plain dark brown hair, pale skin, ordinary brown eyes.

Slowly, Blair reached up. With practiced ease, she pinched the cheap, itchy brown contact lenses and popped them out, dropping them into their small plastic case on the sink.

Blair looked back up at the mirror.

Staring right back at her, were bright pink eyes.

An hour later, Blair lay in bed, staring wide awake into the pitch-black darkness of her room.

She couldn’t sleep. Her mind was spinning like a top. How many deals with devils was she going to have to make just to survive this school? She had already bargained her future away to Daemus’s family in exchange for her life. And now, she had essentially signed her body over to a terrifying, possibly sadistic Crow professor.

It was a staggering sequence of terrible, reckless decisions.

If I had just kept my head down, Blair thought miserably, pulling the thin duvet up to her chin. If I had just said no more often and ignored the bad things happening around me, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

She looked across the dark room at the empty mattress. Maybe Heather would still be here. If only Blair had convinced her to stay home instead of going to that party. She should have been more stern. She should have made her see reason.

THUD.

Blair jolted up in bed, her heart leaping into her throat.

The sound had come from out in the hallway, right against her front door.

Her first, frantic thought was Heather. Did she make it back?

Blair scrambled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. She tiptoed to the door, holding her breath as she pressed her eye against the small peephole.

The hallway was dimly lit by the flickering overhead bulbs. Standing right outside her door was a head of messy blonde hair. For a split second, a flare of hope ignited in Blair’s chest.

But then the woman turned around.

It wasn’t Heather. It was another human girl from the dorms.

Her movements were erratic and frantic. Her gray uniform was ripped, revealing a lot of bare skin underneath. The girl was crying hysterically, her eyes wide with panic as she banged her fists against the doors of the rooms across from Blair’s.

"Please!" the girl sobbed, her voice a ragged, desperate whisper. "Somebody help me! Please let me in!"

The girl kept glancing over her shoulder, staring into the dark shadows at the far end of the corridor like the devil himself was coming for her.

Blair’s pulse pounded in her ears. Her hand slowly, tremblingly reached up, her fingers finding her doorknob.