It’s not about the way he’s dressed, since he’s wearing black slacks, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket.
It’s everything else.
The messy black hair, the intense, piercing gray eyes, high cheekbones, and the sharp features that translate his insufferable character.
He’s also big in everything. Height, build, and personality. I’ve never seen anyone as muscular as he is, except for maybe Nikolai. But he moves pretty swiftly for a huge guy, silently, too, as if he’s trained to only be noticed whenever he deems it necessary.
Jeremy is considered the dark beauty type. He’s that one person you know is handsome, beyond attractive, but his actions paint him as more monstrous than beautiful.
Destructive.
Unapproachable.
And he seems absolutely content with that image.
But then again, why wouldn’t he? His infamous reputation precedes him and he seems fine with that, too.
In fact, he may actively encourage it.
Gareth nods at something they’re discussing and climbs the stairs. Jeremy, however, continues his casual walk down.
But although he appears nonchalant, there’s nothing arbitrary about him. Not even his strides.
Beneath the calm surface he reflects onto the world lurks danger and nefarious intent. It’s mysterious in nature, almost too well disguised for anyone to see.
The only reason I do is because I have my secrets, too, and I guess that gives me the superpower to recognize it in others.
Mum says I’m able to do that due to my strong connection with my empathy and that was one of the main reasons I followed psychology. I want to help others with anything in my power.
Glyn mumbles something and then runs up the stairs.
I start to follow her, but I’m interrupted by a horde of dancing, drinking, and howling students.
Being invited to a party held by the Heathens is a privilege for TKU students. This is like the mecca of their unholy activities and an expression of deviant youth.
It’s why Ava wanted to come here at all costs.
It’s why Anni helped her, despite being apprehensive about her brother’s wrath.
By the time I get to the stairs, there’s no sign of Glyn.
Blimey.
She might be quiet and keep to herself, but Glyn has these moments where she’ll disappear without notice.
I throw a glance behind me to make sure Ava isn’t getting herself in trouble, but then I catch a glimpse of her hugging a bottle of tequila and sneaking outside.
Goddammit. I need two of me to keep these children in check.
I jog in the direction Ava went. Because A, she’s the one who’s more prone to almost drown in a pool of her own vomit—happened once—or almost drown in an actual pool while drunk—happened twice; and B, Glyn is responsible, doesn’t act on impulse, and rarely gets drunk, if ever.
In theory, the decision to go after the troublemaker of our group is actually a simple one.
I slip past students as they jump and howl to some trendy song. It’s a lot easier to move unnoticed than to shove past them and be delayed further.
The cold night air forms goosebumps on my skin, and I stop outside the mansion’s doors.
More students keep flocking inside the mansion in waves and no one is leaving. Granted, by their standards, it’s still early.