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Chapter 12
CHRISTY
My feet still, the lingering sting of the lash Jakub gave me registering in some distant part of my subconscious. I slam the lid on the pain, forcing it back to where it belongs as I dip low to the ground, my right leg slightly extended, my left knee bent outwards as I take a bow. Not once do I take my eyes off them.
My captors.
The Masks.
Sweat slides down my forehead, a few stray strands of hair sticking to my temple and cheek. I push them off my face as I slowly rise, adjusting my feet into fourth position.
It’s been a while since I’ve danced so freely. More often than not, outside factors prevent me from completely letting go, from breathinglifeinto every step rather than simply following them. Believe me, there’s a difference. My muscles ache pleasantly, my heart pounds with exertion, but my soul, for the briefest of moments, had flown free.
Dancing has always been a passion of mine. Grim says that I’m good, and yet I’ve never been able to pursue a career for fear of what doors it will open and the people I might meet, because where people are, so too are more visions. It’s why I work with the dying. There aren’t any surprises. Death is a finality that even I can’t see beyond.
How ironic then that under these circumstances, I’m able to dance with a gravity I haven’t experienced before. I’m not certain whether it was the degradation of the stinging lash, being free from the shackles or the way Leon had touched me, but for the first time in my life I didn’t hold back. I let everything out, and for the briefest of moments, whilst I danced, Iwasfree.
Of course, it was just an illusion.
As The Masks stare at me, I wonder how many more times we’ll play this game. I’m not a fool, I understand what’s happening here. I’m an expert at keeping myself locked away, imprisoned in a cage of my own making. I’ve done it my whole life. Leon was right in his assumption that I’ve lived a sheltered life, but that wasn’t forced on me, Ichoseit.
The difference is that it wasmychoice, but being kept prisoner here isn’t.
“You’re talented,” Konrad says, a note of awe and sincerity in his voice. I don’t allow myself to bask in it. I know a manipulative prick when I see one. This constant push and pull is part of their mind games, something they no doubt honed on the other Numbers. I’ve been shackled one minute, freed the next. I’ve been treated abominably then shown a modicum of decency. This kind of behaviour can wear down the strongest of people until, eventually, they’ll believe whatever version of the truth these men tell them. Not me. I’ll never lose sight of what this is.
Never.
“How long have you been dancing?” Jakub asks as he rests his elbows on the armrests of his chair, clasping his hands together in front of him. He’s looking at me more like a commodity than a possession. I’m not sure that’s any better.
“Why don’t you tell me? You seem to think you know so much about me already,” I counter, refusing to make this easy for him.
Konrad smiles, his uncovered lips pulling back over straight, white teeth. “I don’t know about my brothers, but up until this moment, I thought I understood you. Now I’m not so certain. You’re quite the mystery, Zero.”
“You think?” Leon asks, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I’m not sure there’s much depth to her. She can dance, but she’s nowhere near as talented as the others. She’s pretty, but she’s not stunning. She’s got fight, but I’m willing to bet it won’t last. I’m bored already.”
I grit my teeth, but don’t bite. Leon can go fuck himself.
“Well,I’mstill interested.” Konrad says, trailing his heated gaze over my body. “Anyone who can take a lashing like Zero just did is worth investing more time in. I’d be happy to see how long it would take her to scream, seeing as you’ve already lost interest in her.” Leon stiffens, his shoulders tensing. Konrad chuckles, glancing at his brother. “Yeah, I thought as much.”
“She’s good enough to be in the show,” Jakub says, interrupting them both and leading the conversation down an entirely different tangent. “The Menagerie could do with another dancer. Father must’ve thought so too, given he died trying to acquire one. Her name is Penelope Scott. I assume you know her, given your sister was so intent on keeping her from us?”
“We haven’t met but, yes, I know of her,” I say, determined not to give away just how much. She’s a close friend of Grim’s, as close as anyone has ever gotten apart from Beast. Pen is important to my sister and whilst we’ve never met, I know a great deal about her and the men she loves through Grim.
“By all accounts she’s an exceptional dancer,” he continues.
“I wouldn’t know. Like I said, we’ve never met.”
Jakub nods, turning his attention to his brothers. “What do you think? Should we put Nothing into the show?”
“No,” they both say simultaneously.
“Why?” Jakub asks, the lazy way he twists his head to look at them belies the tension he holds in his jaw. If I’m not mistaken, this seems like some kind of test.
“She’sours, remember,” Konrad reminds him. There’s no denying the possession inhisvoice.
“Yes, and she’ll remain ours. I’m merely suggesting that she could perform in the show. That’s it.”
“And what ifIdon’t want to? What then?”
