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He walks across the terrace space and sits down on a low wall that leads to another set of stairs. Beyond that is a garden and an orchard, and through the thick green brush, I can also see a large wall.
Trapped. Just in a bigger cage this time.
“Phoenix handles all of our tech and security. You probably won’t see him much at first. He’s a reclusive wanker.” His tone is almost apologetic, which makes me frown. Why would he care what I think?
I can feel him step up behind me, and when I anticipate his arm coming around my waist, this small, traitorous part of me wants it and is disappointed when he doesn’t touch. Still, I feel the warmth of him—and his power, and just how dangerous he is.
This man has murdered before. There’s no doubt in my mind.
The thought should make me sick, but I also know the kind of person who raised me, and maybe I’m just numb to it now. Or maybe I’m fucked-up, just like them.
“Alice?”
I turn my head, and I can see him in my periphery. He really is fucking pretty. Rugged and young, dark stubble and wispy curls and an olive tone that says his bloodline probably came from somewhere along the Mediterranean, despite his English accent.
“Are you ignoring me, little darling?”
I shake my head. “Is there something you want me to say?”
I can feel him studying me. “How well do you know your father?”
Ah. So this is some sort of ploy in order to get me to give up information. Well, joke’s on them, and they must not actually know me as well as they claim. “Apart from the fact that he never did like me and that losing my mother and sister gave him the excuse he always wanted to shut down what was left of his humanity?” I laugh bitterly. “Not much.”
This time, he does touch me. He grips me by my shoulder and spins me, then brushes a lock of hair behind my shoulder. Normally I keep it tied up or braided, but right now, it’s kind of a mess since I haven’t had more than a quick shower with no soap, and I was lucky to get even that.
“You should go upstairs,” he says eventually.
I don’t know if I’ve disappointed him, though he doesn’t seem upset. All the same, my stomach churns.
“Everything you could possibly need for now is in that bedroom, and if you need anything else, we can send for it. Just make a list.”
I almost laugh again at the sheer absurdity of the situation. I glance over my shoulder once more at the grounds, but my attention snaps back to James when he curls his fingers around the back of my neck so tight it hurts.
“Don’t be stupid, little darling.”
“I—”
He bares his teeth, and whatever I was about to say dies in the back of my throat. He leans in, and I can smell something spicy on his breath, like cloves. “All of us have tried to run at one point or another. It never ends well.”
“So you’re trapped here too?” I can’t help but ask.
He laughs, his breath hot on my face. “We’ve all sold our soul to Hades, darling. And he’s made us work for it. But you’ll come to realize soon enough why any of us would do it over and over again.”
He lets me go, then turns on his heel and walks away, leaving me in the room alone. I know for a fact it’s some kind of test. I’m fast, though having been half-starved, I wouldn’t be fast enough. And I have no doubt someone’s watching me.
But the truth is, I don’t want to run. I don’t know if this is more of them trying to get me to drop my guard to make the eventual torture even more painful, but I might as well take what I can get. There’s no hope for me at this point—or if there is, I’m not going to find it in this moment.
* * *
I tellmyself not to enjoy anything I’ve been given by these men. It’s not safe to feel even a fraction of complacency. I might be naïve, I might have been kept in a bubble most of my life, but I still had training. Leo, who taught me how to fight and how to shoot and how to use my small height against taller attackers, also taught me to understand when I was beaten—and at the moment, I am. I’m not a tactical or technological genius. I don’t have hidden super strength that could overpower three grown-ass, dangerous men who don’t need to carry weapons because their bodies are more lethal than any gun.
Compliance, for the moment, will keep me breathing.
So shoot me for enjoying it when I sink into the damn near scalding hot water and let the dirt and sweat and tears of the last two weeks slough off me. I pour enough soap in for the scent of lavender to overwhelm me, and I lie back with my hair tied up and watch my feet at the end of the tub turn from tawny to ruddy from the heat.
It’s not just amazing because I spent almost two weeks in a dingy basement with cold running water. This is better than I had in my boarding school or in my dorm.
It’s heaven—or as close as I’ll be getting for a long time.
