Fated

his grip.
    He stares, blinks, waits for me to speak up, and knowing I need to get this over with quick, I force the words from my lips. “I’m here for my phone.”
    He gives me a quick once-over, and while it’s pleasant enough, I can’t help but notice the chills that run down my arms, prickling my skin in a way that’s disturbing. Then he swings the door wider, motions for me to step in. Calling to a guy staring at a wall of security screens documenting everything happening inside and out of this place, saying, “Son, the girl needs her phone.”
    I glance around the office, taking in desks, phones, computers, printers, chairs—all the usual stuff, nothing ominous about it, and yet, something about it leaves me on edge.
    The boy reaches toward the wall and yanks hard on the plug, his glossy black hair gleaming under the fluorescent light in a way I can’t miss. And when he turns, my phone and charger in hand, I can’t move. Can’t speak. Can’t do anything but stare hard at his eyes.
    Cold. Cruel. Icy-blue eyes banded by brilliant flecks of gold that fail to reflect.
    Eyes I’ve dreamed about.
    “This yours?” His voice is light, flirtatious, overly confident—a voice that belongs to a guy used to charming girls speechless.
    A voice that recently asked for a light just outside the liquor store.
    My hands tremble, my heart hammers, as I reach toward him, reach for the phone, only to find he has other plans.
    His fingers curl around mine, catching my hand in his—as his strange blue eyes deepen in a way that challenges me to resist.
    Though his touch is cool and smooth and undeniably inviting, something about it makes me jerk back, causing my phone to crash to the ground, and it’s all I can do to tear my gaze away long enough to kneel down and retrieve it.
    “I hope you’ll stick around long enough to check out the band.” His voice floats over my head. “They came all the way from Albuquerque. They’re only here for tonight. Be a shame to miss it.”
    I swallow hard, settling my bag high on my shoulder, as I struggle to settle myself, needing to play it cool for now, then bolt when I can.
    “’Fraid I’ll have to miss it,” I say, striving for nonchalant, but my voice betrays me with the way it trembles and pitches. “Gotta bus to catch, so … if you don’t mind.” I wriggle my fingers, motioning for him to step out of my way. But he remains right where he is, blocking my exit with a grin on his face.
    He cocks his head, allowing a clump of hair to fall across his eyes as his gaze sweeps over me and his tongue flicks across his front teeth. “Now you’re just being mean,” he says, smile broadening as he rakes a hand through his bangs. “Least you could do is stay a while. Give us a chance to get to know each other better. I had no idea Paloma was hiding such a pretty granddaughter—did you?” He turns to his father, their eyes meeting in a private joke that escapes me.
    I start to speak. Start to ask how he knows about Paloma and me. But before I can get there, he says, “Trust me, Enchantment is even smaller than it looks. Hard to keep a secret in a town where everyone knows everyone.”
    His eyes meet mine, but instead of that odd, nonreflective blue they once were—they’re now crimson. And when his lip quirks to the side, they part just enough to allow the snake to slip out and dart straight for my chest.
    I gasp. Shove him aside and make for the door. Fingers straining for the handle, just inches away, when the walls begin to melt, the roof begins to sink, and the space shrinks so small it swallows the door and bars my escape.
    The room crushing, pressing, forcing me to the floor, forcing me to my knees—depleting it of oxygen, making it impossible to breathe—to see—to do much of anything other than scream.
    I scream until my head swells with the sound of it.
    Scream until my eyes fill with bright swirling circles.
    Scream until I realize I haven’t screamed at all—the sound stayed inside me, never found its way out.
    A cool, firm hand clamps hard on my shoulder, as the boy peers at me and says, “Hey—hey there, you okay?”
    I stare at him sideways, seeing him for what he truly is—no longer a demon but rather a beautiful, overconfident boy wearing a false mask of concern.
    “Can I get you some water? Do you need to sit down?” His eyes crease with amusement as the room settles around me, returning to normal again.
    He reaches toward me, offers a hand,