Wicked Game Page 11
“Okay, but you know I’m real, right?”
Again, I nodded my head.
“Then this is what we’re gonna do. You, me, and Jack are gonna go back home together. Nickolai, Atticus, and the rest will meet us there. You can stay with me, and then you’ll know this is real. We’ll wash off the blood and then get you help so you can heal.”
Heal? That was a novel idea. Could I even be healed?
Edison took my hand, then wrapped an arm around my shoulder and led me away from the gathered group. I was vaguely aware of Jack talking to me, telling me about irrelevant things to try and soothe me. Then I was sliding into the backseat of Jack’s car, Edison by my side as I clung to him.
I hated this need to cling to him, to feel like I was powerless. My body started to tremble, and then Edison began to sing, just like he did in the cell. I didn’t hear the lyrics, only the rasp of his voice, the beauty of it, and I lost myself in the melody. Soon enough, my body relaxed and Edison stopped.
Jack started the engine as Nickolai and Atticus watched from outside. I couldn’t bring myself to lift my gaze as we headed for home. The closer we got, the more anxious I got. My heart was racing and my mouth was dry. I imagined they would all be lined up, the entire court watching as we arrived, dissecting me like they had for years.
I saw Nattie’s face, smug knowing I was irrevocably damaged. The queen would look at me with her blue, blue eyes filled with pity and regret. How could I tell her that if I’d let her raise me, she would have destroyed me, and I wouldn’t have had the strength to murder her son?
Every family would be waiting in that foyer, and as Edison was welcomed back by his parents—even if they were currently estranged—there would be no one waiting to greet me. No loving parents happy to see me home safe. Not even a friend.
And the only person I wanted to hold me I couldn’t bear to be around.
Jack turned into the long driveway leading to the compound, and I knew I couldn’t walk in that door and face them. Royal vampires craved perfection, and I was flawed, broken.
As the car slowed down to stop, I threw open my car door and shoved away from Edison, who tried to grab me with a startled cry. Rolling as I hit the ground, I was on my feet a second later, darting across the gardens.
The car screeched to a halt, and heavy bootsteps crunched in the gravel, chasing me. Skidding as I rounded the back of the compound, I spied the familiar grooves in the compound wall and began to scale the building. I was halfway up before I glanced down, spying Nickolai watching me.
His hand flattened on the wall underneath me, and for one terrifying moment, I feared he would try and scale the wall after me. Jack came into view and muttered something to Nickolai that stopped him, and he simply watched as I used the grooves to get to the roof.
Fingers gripping the overhang, I hoisted myself up and over, like I’d done a million times before. Finally safe, I sat down on the roof and gulped in some breaths. The stars winked at me, as if we shared some sort of secret, and I would have stayed there with them forever if I didn’t need to protect myself.
Thankful that my window was still open, I lifted it up before I dropped down, landing in a crouch. I roamed my eyes over the sanctuary of my home. My bed was still unmade, the novel I’d been reading, Shattered Memories, still sitting on my bedside table. In another life that might have made me laugh considering what had happened. I suppose many would call it ironic. My door was slightly ajar, and I heard voices in the distance, coming closer and closer as they traipsed up the stairs.
Using my vampire speed, I was at the door a second later, slamming the wood shut. Even though I was exhausted, my bones weary, I tried to push my chest of drawers across the wooden floor so it blocked the door. Any vampire could break through it, but I would at least have some warning before I had to fight. Too exhausted to push it all the way across the room, I slid the lock into place and called it good.
I tossed my lone sai on the bed and opened my weapons truck, removing a katana and a few throwing stars. I found myself wishing I had kept the gun as I lay them out on the floor around me and sank down, sitting cross-legged with an eye on the door.
A soft rap of knuckles had me growling as someone tried to open the door, and I clasped a throwing star in my hand, readying to strike. I listened to a sigh, and then Jack’s voice permeated the wood timbers.
“She’s barricaded herself inside. Don’t think we can get her out to have someone give her a once-over.”
“Did you hear what Edison said? Seems like that fae played a wicked game with her mind.”
My heart lurched as I heard the press of lips to skin outside my door, and I despised myself for my fickle heart wanting the same thing, to have comfort when there was none. I snarled at myself, and the pair outside stilled.
“When will Reece get here?”
“The queen said he should return in a couple of days,” Jack replied. “I know he studied to be a counsellor while serving in the royal guard, but I don’t think any of us are qualified to deal with teenagers who’ve been mentally tortured.”
I could almost see Atticus cup his cheek. “Are any of us, Jack? It took the queen ordering Edison to the medic to stop him from coming up here. Ryan didn’t listen to orders before all this; do you think an edict from our liege would do us any good?”
I was relieved that Edison was being looked after. I shifted so that I could lay my head down on the floor, curling into myself, one hand resting on my Katana and the other gripping a throwing star so tightly it dug into my skin.
The pain was a welcome friend, reminding me that this was real, and I tried in vain to keep my eyes open, for I knew that when I slept, I would dream.
And dream I did.
12
“And what of me, Nickolai? Do you plan to kill me like you killed those we all once loved?”
Nickolai’s lips curved into a breathtaking smile that made me weak in the knees. “I plan to do what I have wanted to do since I was a boy. I intend to make you my queen. What say you, Ryan? Do you love me enough to follow me into darkness?”
I forced a smile as I strode over to Nickolai, stepping into his touch as his hand gripped my hip, but this Nickolai didn’t smell like my Nickolai—was that because he wasn’t my Nickolai? My Nicky had died ten years ago, and this monster just wore his face.
“I love you, too, Nickolai. I have always loved you. Now, kiss me so they all know I’m yours.”
His mouth was on mine before I had time to catch my breath, and he kissed me like he needed it to breathe. He tasted wrong, like ash and blood, but I let myself be kissed by him as I slowly slid the dagger from my sleeve.
Then, I let the dagger fall from my fingers and lost myself in the pinpricks of fire in my veins. I reveled in the growl that slipped past Nickolai’s lips and vibrated against my own. I felt powerful. I felt desired.
His lips tore from mine, tracing their way slowly down my throat as I slipped my hands under his shirt, skin against skin. When his teeth grazed the sensitive side at the curve of my neck, I arched my back to try and bring him closer.
Then his fangs were in my throat, and I was liquid as he drank from me, taking me inside him as he reached up to cup my face with one hand. I lofted my gaze just as he ripped his mouth from my throat and snapped my neck.
Starting awake, I clamped my mouth shut to stop myself from screaming, my hand going to my neck to make sure I was still physically intact. I was still curled up into myself on the floor, but I had no idea how much time had passed. Sitting upright, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I didn’t recognize myself.
Blood and gore were streaked across my face, my cheeks were hollowed, and the clothes I was wearing hung loose on my frame… and were also covered in blood. My mouth was stained with Dresden’s blood, and I ran my tongue over my lips to confirm at least that part of my memory was intact and the fae was indeed dead.
Gingerly, I got to my feet, listening to see if Jack and Edison were stil
l lingering outside. I was greeted with silence. I wondered if I could run, if I would make it past the guards out front who would no doubt be doubled and will have been ordered to prevent me from leaving.
Standing in the middle of my room, I must have zoned out because I heard a knock on my door, then a pause. I went to the door and pressed my palms against the wood. I knew who lingered on the other side.
“Ryan.”
My name sounded like a bullet searing through me, his voice full of pain that I knew I was the cause of. I was so muddled in my head that I couldn’t stand to be near him in case he was not actually real. I exhaled a breath to let him know I was listening.
“I brought you some breakfast and some blood. Edison said you haven’t eaten in weeks, not really. His dad gave him a sedative so he would sleep. He wanted to sit outside your door all day, keeping guard.”
Just like he’d done when we were held captive.
“I promised him I wouldn’t try to push you. But I need you to eat, Ry.”
Ry… a secret nickname between the two of us. It dawned on me that during my nightmares, Nickolai had never been Nicky—even at the end when he was having me committed, it had been said with venom. Maybe Dresden had helped me after all.
“Edison’s dad wants to check you over—once Edison wakes so you don’t feel trapped. Then Reece Hamilton is going to want to talk to you. But you can always talk to me, Ryan.”
I pressed my palms more firmly against the wood and rested my forehead against it. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to tell him every sordid thing I feared and had been used against me. I wanted to tell him that Dresden had clawed inside my mind and pulled my romantic delusions from the casket I had buried them in, where he and I were deliriously happy. That I craved to be taken back there, where I felt light, joyful, and loved. And that I wanted to believe in it so much I hated that I’d fought against it.
“I’ve left the food outside. If you eat them, maybe I can persuade Jack to run to Murphy’s for some cheesecake. Wouldn’t take much. Everyone here would do anything to help you.”
Then I felt him retreat and knew it was safe to open the door. Shoving back the chest of drawers, I tentatively pulled open the door and reached out for the plate, the scent of bacon instantly rumbling my stomach. Once the plate was inside, I snatched the blood and closed the door with a slam.
Maybe I did it so Nickolai would know that I’d accepted his offering. A little gesture of thanks to show him I was trying. When the chest of drawers was back in place, I hungrily made quick work of the sandwich and drained the blood. Then I returned to my seat on the floor and waited.
The minutes ticked by until I heard footsteps on the stairs. I braced myself. The door handle twisted, and I crouched low, ready to pounce. I let loose a snarl in warning, hoping to convey that I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I would.
“I can hear you growling in there, girlie. Surely you wouldn’t hurt a defenseless old woman.”
A snort escaped me, and I heard Rose chuckle.
“See, Ryan is grand, aren’t you? Now, Jack O’Reilly, take yourself off, and Ryan and me will have a few minutes without all the testosterone hovering around.”
I kept my position on the ground until Rose told me Jack was gone and if I didn’t open the door, she would find a nice, strong vampire with an axe to break it open for her.
I knew better than anyone that Rose didn’t mince her words and would have no hesitation doing exactly what she threatened. Rolling my eyes, I pushed back the chest of drawers, yanking open the door before marching back to the center of the room and folding my arms across my chest, my eyes watching the Child of Eve for signs of pity.
Rose gave me no pity as she ran her gaze over me and shut the door. She set her bag down on the ground, her coal-black hair swept off her shoulder in an intricate braid as she came to stand in front of me. Slowly, Rose set her hands on either side of my shoulders.
“Those male vampires think the rogue broke you. I told them it would take a lot more than a rogue to break that girl. I told them you were fire, chaos, and strength all rolled into one. I told them you had more backbone than all of them combined. They don’t believe me, girlie. Let’s show them exactly just how strong you are.”
I blinked in response, and Rose took that as a solid okay. Brushing my hair from my face, she regarded me with a grim smile. “First, you need a wash, child. You smell of death and sweat. Bathroom. Now.”
Rose moved through the room like she knew where everything was, and I wasn’t at all surprised by it. Rolling up the sleeves of her dress, she turned on the shower and tested the water with her hands. I lingered there, watching her, then let her strip the bloody clothes from my skin until I stood in my bathroom naked.
I made to cover myself, and that caused Rose to chuckle. “Ryan, I’ve seen it all before. I used to change your diaper, girl. Now, get in the shower.”
With a little nudge I went under the spray and did as ordered by Rose. My eyes watched as blood washed from my skin and slithered down the drain until my skin was clean. My hair was not so easy; it seemed to take forever to clean. By the time it was dirt- and grime-free, the water was running cold.
Rose turned off the water and wrapped me in a towel that smelled of lavender. She walked me out to the bedroom and perched me on the end of the bed. Moments later, a brush was run through my hair., and that itself was an exercise in torture.
It had been an age since someone had brushed my hair for me. My mother used to sit for hours, coaxing and teasing each strand until it was tamed into submission. I loved how she spent those times, telling stories of her battles and her youth. Her voice, I could scarcely remember it, but I remembered how she made me feel—safe and loved.
Emotion threatened to topple me, so I reached up to pause Rose as she brushed. As if knowing what was in my head, she set the brush down, got to her feet, and went to nose around in my drawers for clothes. She handed me underwear, a sports bra, and then a pair of leggings. Holding up a tee for my inspection, she quirked a brow, waiting for approval or rejection. I braved a small smile.
Getting to my feet, I dressed quickly, wearing my What would Olivia Benson Do tee, the wet strands of my hair falling over my face. Rose smoothed the hair back from my face and motioned for me to whirl around. When I complied, she braided my hair so it was off my face and hung down my back.
Turning me around, Rose smiled and nodded her head as if I passed inspection. Then she went to the door and flung it open, and I jerked back at the suddenness of it.
“Jack,” she called out, and I growled, to which the Child of Eve hushed me. “I know you can hear me. Bring me some food—the girl is wasting away and needs to eat.”
Then she closed the door, glancing down at the weapons on the floor and then to me.
She opened her mouth to speak when the doorknob twisted, and I lunged for the katana as Atticus popped his head around the door. The suddenness of my movement sent blood rushing to my head, and I stumbled over my own feet, knocking the katana out of reach.
Frustrated, I got to my feet, my fists clenching at my sides as Atticus’s eyes filled with pity for me. My growl filled the room, and Atticus set the plate of food on the chest of drawers, looking to Rose for advice.
“She doesn’t need your pity. She needs to know you don’t see her as weak.”
Atticus’s gaze swung back to me, and the pity was gone from his eyes. “Is that what you think? Edison told us what you did, how you kept him alive. Not a single person in this house thinks you are weak, Ryan. We are stumbling over ourselves trying to help you because we need you. I need you.”
Edison had said something similar, although as I’d heard his words, I didn’t genuinely believe them. But I was still hungry and wanted to eat. I brushed past Atticus and picked up the plate, eating a chicken leg with zest before tucking into the potatoes and veg. I must have looked truly uncivilized as I stood there shoveling down food, yet neither Rose nor Atticus said a word.
/> When finished, I set the plate on the table and dropped the cutlery just as Edison came up the steps. He looked drowsy but whole. He grinned when he saw me dressed, pointed to my T-shirt, and smiled. “Nice tee. Olivia Benson is hot.”
As he came closer, I let him pull me to him, wrapped my arm around his waist, and sighed. We stayed like that until Edison pulled away and brushed his knuckles against my cheek.
“Callan, my dad wants to give you the once-over.”
I knew Theodore St. Clair was our resident doctor, but he was also the man who had shunned his son for being gay; and if he didn’t like vampires who didn’t conform to arcane beliefs, then he sure as hell wouldn’t like me.
My eyes flitted to Atticus as my lips curved into a snarl. Atticus looked confused for a second, and then I was dazzled by a brilliant smile.
“I can go with you if you want. We all can. My father will be on his best behavior or he’ll have us to deal with.”
I knew that he meant it, and I trusted him without question, but I still needed to check. Stalking forward, I got as close to Atticus as I could bear, then lowered my lids and leaned in to inhale his scent.
Clean, crisp, like the start of summer cut grass. I knew this was Atticus, and he would never harm me. This was the man who had wasted his royal guard favor on a girl he barely knew to save her life. Atticus would never hurt me. Now if I could just convince myself to remember that.
I swallowed hard, then stepped back and gestured to the door. They mistook my gesture to mean we should get going, and the vampires and Child of Eve paused in confusion when I refused to budge. I held up three fingers and shook my head.
“Ryan, you need to tell us what’s wrong. We don’t understand.”
There was no sorrow or pity in Edison’s tone, but there was a scream still lodged in my throat that stopped me from speaking. I frowned and rubbed my temple, then stomped into the kitchen and found a notebook and pen. I quickly wrote down that I would go with the three of them, but I would come right back here if I saw anyone else other than their dad.