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Shit.
I’m not imagining things.
“Nice to see you again, Harper,” he says.
“I wish I could say the same about you,” I reply. Quickly, I reach for the door close button. I amdefinitelyon the wrong floor.
The man braces his hand against the door, keeping it open. “We’re not done talking.”
“Oh, yes we are,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I told them they should tie you up. Why don’t they listen to me?”
This guy is a total lunatic. I don’t care that he’s not the one who pulled the trigger. He stood by and watched my friends die. Then he drugged me. Fuck him. I am not sticking around.
I bolt out of the elevator, right past him. I only get a few steps when I run right into a row of men in black suits all glaring at me.
Beyond them, I can see sunlight streaming in through a wall of glass. That has to be the main entrance and I know it’s the best way out but I won’t stand a chance with these guys between me and the exit.
Making a quick decision, I turn right and run straight toward a set of double doors. As soon as I burst through them I know I’m fucked.
Breathing heavy, I stand in the center of a huge room. On either side of me are rows and rows of benches that look like they belong in a church. In front of me is a raised dais with a huge throne-like chair in the center. Three smaller chairs are on each side and each of the seats is occupied by a really pissed-off looking person.
Colored light filters in through an intricate stained glass window that takes up the entire wall behind the chairs. A giant tree is the center object, wrapped with a huge snake. At the foot of the tree are two people on their knees, their bodies wrapped in thorny vines. Blood runs down their skin into pools of red under their knees. Their faces are twisted in agony and I can almost feel their pain from here.
Whatever this place is, it’s far worse than I imagined.
“Harper Love,” the man seated in the throne says.
I turn my attention to him. He’s got long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. His features are delicate in an attractive way. He looks like he can’t be much older than me but there’s something about his eyes that makes me think otherwise.
He grips the armrests of the gold throne, his knuckles white. “Step forward and begin your trial.”
“My what?” I ask.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” a familiar voice says behind me.
A chill runs down my spine. The violet eyed psycho has followed me in here.
“Walk forward and bow to him,” he suggests.
I glance over at him. “I don’t bow.”
“Or don’t take my advice,” he says. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good execution.”
“Aside from the two you just watched in my apartment?” I hiss.
He shrugs and I want to punch him in his smug face.
“Do not keep me waiting, child. My patience is not what it used to be,” the man on the throne says.
I turn back to him and step closer. My hands are balled into fists as I force myself to keep my chin high. I have no idea what’s going on, but I know I must appear strong.
The man on the throne narrows his eyes at me and I swear I can feel his temper rise, which isn’t possible. But I remember the warning so I stop in front of the dais and I bow.
The tension in the room seems to release and when I rise, the man is smiling at me.
“Harper Love,” he says. “Welcome to the Kingdom of Keys.”
