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“That’s an awful lot from someone you refer to asNothing,” I say, shuffling sideways away from him. It’s only then that I become aware of something tied around my neck. My hands fly upwards, feeling the collar fixed in place. The leather is smooth, supple, worn, and I know without having to see it that it’s Star’s collar, the very same collar The Masks have been trying to make me wear ever since I arrived here.
“If you remove it, I’ll order Konrad to keep you in the dungeons for a week,” Jakub says, watching me closely. In his hand is the leather leash, his thumb rubbing up and down the soft leather. It’s attached to the collar at my neck.
“I lasted a day. I can last a week,” I bite back, my fingers pulling at the collar.
Jakub shakes his head, then yanks the leash, pulling me forward by the throat. I have to follow the movement, or choke. My hands fall away as I crawl across the bed, trying not to stumble as the long nightgown I’m wearing gets caught under my knees. “Not with what he has in mind.”
“The other Numbers… they survived, didn’t they? What makes you so certain that I won’t?”
“Because what he’ll do to you will be a thousand times more disturbing than what he did to them. He’ll fuck you up in here,” Jakub says, tapping his head.
I don’t rise to the bait, despite his words making fear pool in my stomach like a rusty nail. I’m no fool, I know I’ve managed to traverse the worst of their behaviour, that they’ve barely shown me what they’re capable of. It’s a strange position to be in, knowing who they are, what they’re capable of, but also knowing who they oncewere. I’ve been given a glimpse of the boys before they became The Masks. That has to mean something, surely? Fate, however cruel, is giving me a lifeline and I intend on grasping it with both hands.
“Why me?” I suddenly ask, shifting my body so that I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, my bare feet pressed against the warm wooden floorboards. My dress lifts, revealing my ankles and shapely calves. I have the urge to pull the dress down. I don’t.
“You know why. Your sister ordered the death of my father. This is payback. She took something of ours, we took something of hers.”
“No, that isn’t what I meant.” I almost ask him why he cares about his father’s death given he was abused by him, but that would mean me explaining how I know about his father’s cruelty and there’s no guarantee he’d believe me. Even if he did, it wouldn’t make a difference.
“Regardless of what you meant, this is how it is. You areours. That isn’t going to change, no matter how much you want it to.”
“You keep saying that I’m yours, and aside from the fact that I’m not something that can be owned—” He scoffs at my declaration, but I push on regardless. “Why do you want to own me when you already have the Numbers…?” I haven’t even met all of them, but if the rest of them are anything like Four and Eight, then The Masks will have no problems fulfilling their desires, right? Those women wanted Leon and Konrad. It’s not as though The Masks would have to fight for their attention,stealit. Then I realise, that’s precisely what they want. To hunt, to take something from an unwilling victim. My throat squeezes with anxiety.
“The Numbers aren’t ours. They never were. They never will be.”
I swallow hard, the tightness of the leather collar reminding me that I’m no more than an animal to them, a creature they can order around and abuse, and yet… This collar, this leash, belonged to a beloved pet, one that Jakub adored. Surely that’s significant somehow?
“Who do they belong to, if not you?”
“The Collector…”
“The Collector?”
“Our father.”
“But he’s dead. So that makes them yours now, doesn’t it?” I ask, trying to understand his logic, because of course they shouldn't belong to anyone but themselves.
“No. It doesn’t. The Numbers belong toThe Menagerie, to the people who pay big money to come here to watch them, to my father’s legacy and what he built here. The Numbers do what they love, they’re gifted performers—”
“Performers? Is that why Four and Eight were dressed up like strippers? Is that the kind of performance you mean? They strip and then fuck whoever pays you the most?” I laugh almost hysterically. “They call you their Master but isn’t that just a more creative word forpimp?”
“You really are small-minded,” he remarks, a ghost of a smile playing about his lips. “But yes, they fuck our clients.”
Small-minded? This isn’t a conversation I’d ever thought I’d have with a man who has me collared and leashed like a dog, but I keep him talking if only to stave off whatever he has planned for me. “So enlighten me.”
“Konrad has ordered a formal banquet this evening. You’ll be enlightened soon enough.”
“You want me to perform inThe Menagerie? Am I expected to fuck your clients too?” I ask, my voice shaking, my skin growing cold at the thought.
“Like I suggested to my brothers in the library, you won’t be for sale like the other Numbers, given you’re ours and we don’t share unless it’s with each other.”
“So I'm going to dance then?”
“No. Tonight there will be no guests in Ardelby Castle. Tonight it’s just us and the Numbers. Dinner and… well, you’ll see. It’s your welcome… of sorts.”
“Thank God,” I mutter, but my relief is short-lived when he lunges forward and wraps the leash around my neck, pulling it tight. My throat constricts as he tightens his grip and forces my chin up. He smiles down at me, his eyes empty.
“Don’t relax too much,Nothing. Everything you do from now on is for our benefit. If we want to see you dance, you will dance. If we want you collared and leashed, you will gladly follow us wherever we go. If we want you naked and spread open, then you’ll oblige. If we want you to scream and cry whilst we fuck you, then you will do exactly that.” He releases his grip on the leash allowing it to loosen, and I suck in a pained breath, gasping for air.
