Four Of A Kind

Before I could respond, Felix appeared at the counter wearing his Dracula cape and carrying a tray of empty cups. His fangs were still in place, giving his words a slight lisp that he had somehow turned into a charming accent.

"The haunted house just closed early," he announced with obvious satisfaction. "Smoke machine malfunction caused three people to have asthma attacks. Patterson is practically vibrating with joy."

"Anyone seriously hurt?"

"No, just wheezing and dramatically fanning themselves while demanding bottled water." Felix set the tray down and leaned against the counter. "Rebecca’s class is not handling the loss well. I heard shouting from their setup area about faulty equipment and sabotage, which is funny because everyone knows their smoke machine has been held together with duct tape and prayer since 2019."

"Rebecca?" Harlow’s voice carried a note of curiosity that immediately put me on alert.

"Rebecca Ashworth. Senior in 3-C. Red hair, weird eyes, comes from old money that makes the Valentines look middle class." Felix glanced between us with the expression of someone who sensed drama and wanted front-row seats. "She was here earlier asking about our vampire butler specifically."

"Asking what about him specifically?"

"Whether he was single and if he might be interested in private coffee tutorials." Felix’s grin was absolutely shameless. "I may have mentioned that his relationship status was complicated in ways that require advanced mathematics to calculate."

Harlow’s expression shifted slightly, her smile becoming more fixed. "How complicated?"

"Four-way complicated, according to the rumors." Felix was clearly enjoying himself. "Though I suppose it’s more of a rotation system than simultaneous complexity, which is probably more manageable from a scheduling perspective."

"Felix." My voice carried enough warning that he raised his hands in surrender.

"Just reporting the gossip, my friend. The entire school knows about your situation by now. Instagram posts have a way of spreading information faster than Patterson can confiscate phones." He gestured toward the nearly empty gymnasium. "Speaking of which, we should probably start breakdown. The custodial staff wants the space cleared by six, and Vivienne looks like she’s ready to start organizing people into work crews whether they volunteer or not."

I looked across the room to where Vivienne stood with her tablet, making notes while surveying the café setup with the systematic attention of a general planning a strategic withdrawal. Her burgundy silk skirt caught the purple lighting in ways that made concentration difficult, and I caught myself staring at the curve of her thighs above her lace-topped stockings before remembering that we were surrounded by festival attendees and camera phones.

"She’s been watching you for the last five minutes," Harlow observed quietly. "Not in a creepy way. In a Vivienne way, which is like a business assessment combined with something that makes her cheeks pink if you catch her doing it."

"You notice everything."

"I notice when people are looking at you like they want to do unspeakable things to you behind closed doors." Her voice was matter-of-fact, but there was something underneath it that sounded almost territorial. "It’s becoming a frequent occurrence."

Felix raised an eyebrow at that comment but had enough survival instinct not to pursue it. Instead, he started gathering empty cups and used napkins, humming what sounded like the Tetris theme while he worked. The familiarity of cleaning up after a busy shift felt comforting, like muscle memory from the Velvet Room translating to a different environment.

My phone buzzed with a text from Cassidy: Tennis courts. Now. Bring coffee.

The message was typically direct, no context or explanation, just an order delivered with the assumption that I would follow it. The presumption should have been annoying. Instead, it made something in my chest tighten with anticipation.

"I need to step out for a minute."

Harlow nodded, already turning back to the espresso machine. "I’ll finish cleaning up here. Just don’t disappear completely. We still need to help with breakdown, and Vivienne gets twitchy when people abandon their assigned tasks."

I grabbed a cup of black coffee and headed for the gymnasium exit, weaving through the remaining festival-goers and stepping out into late afternoon air that felt sharp and clean after five hours of fog machine vapor. The campus was quieter now, most of the crowd concentrated around the food trucks and carnival games that had been set up on the main quad.

The tennis courts were a ten-minute walk from the gymnasium, located behind the athletics complex in an area that students rarely used unless they were specifically looking for privacy. I found Cassidy sitting on the bleachers beside court three, her battle maid costume looking slightly ridiculous in the outdoor setting. She had removed her bat-wing headband, leaving her wine-red and black hair loose around her shoulders, and the late afternoon sun caught the purple in her eyes in ways that made them look almost luminous.

She didn’t acknowledge my approach until I was close enough to hand her the coffee cup. When she took it, her fingers brushed against mine with deliberate pressure, and she held the contact longer than necessary while maintaining eye contact that felt like a challenge.

"Rebecca Ashworth."

"What about her?"

"She wants you." Cassidy’s voice was flat, matter-of-fact, but there was steel underneath it. "The way she looked at you, the way she ordered her drink, the way she made sure to mention her mother’s connections. She’s not subtle."

"Neither are you."

That earned me a sharp smile, all teeth and no warmth. "I’m not trying to be subtle. Subtle is for people who aren’t sure what they want or are afraid to ask for it. I know exactly what I want, and I’m not afraid of anything."

She took a sip of coffee, her eyes never leaving mine over the rim of the cup. When she lowered it, there was a faint smudge of lipstick on the white ceramic, dark red against the stark surface.

"Two weeks," she continued. "Two weeks of watching Sabrina have you first, watching her do whatever it is she does when she gets people alone. Two weeks of rotation schedules and shared custody and pretending I’m fine with taking turns." Her grip tightened on the cup. "But after that, I get my twenty-four hours. And during those twenty-four hours, you belong to me. Completely."

The word belong hit me like a physical impact, sending heat through my bloodstream that settled low in my stomach and stayed there. Cassidy’s confidence was absolute, unshakeable, the kind of certainty that came from someone who had never learned to doubt herself.

"You’re very sure of yourself."

"I passed the test this morning." Her smile was sharp enough to cut. "Ninety-three percent. Which means I won our bet fair and square, which means you’re mine for a day, no complaints, no limits, no interference from my sisters or anyone else who thinks they have a claim on your attention."

She stood up from the bleachers and stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume mixed with the lingering scent of coffee and something that was purely Cassidy, sharp and electric and impossible to ignore. Her hand came up to rest against my chest, fingers spreading over the silk of my butler shirt with possessive confidence.

"Rebecca Ashworth can want you all she likes," she murmured, her voice dropping to something private and dangerous. "But wanting and having are two completely different things, and I don’t lose competitions. Especially not to boarding school princesses who think money can buy everything."

Her thumb traced a small circle over my heart through the fabric, and I became acutely aware of how close she was standing, how the late afternoon light made her skin glow, how her battle maid skirt had ridden up high enough on her thighs that I could see the lace edge of whatever she was wearing underneath.

"Cassidy."

"Yes?"

"We should head back. Vivienne’s probably wondering where we are."

"Let her wonder." But she stepped back anyway, her hand trailing down my chest before falling away entirely. "Just remember what I said about belonging. Two weeks. And then you’re mine."

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