Dangerous Games

19

If he had other plans for my body, he would’ve started there first.

He withdraws, smoothing his hair, and drops the whip on top of Vlad’s unmoving chest. Then he watches as I carefully stand, wincing and gritting my teeth against a moan rising in the back of my throat.

Avoiding his eyes, I pull on my jeans, stopping every so often to gulp air and fight back dizziness.

I can’t get the jeans buttoned with only one working hand, and I can’t get my broken arm through the armhole of my T-shirt. I had to remove the sling to take the shirt off, but I’m in far too much pain now to manage to get it back on, so I just stare at it helplessly.

“Here.”

Dimitri picks up the sling from the floor, loops it over my neck, then arranges my splinted arm in the cradle of fabric. He removes his suit jacket and drapes it lightly over my shoulders. I hiss in pain as the fabric settles over my burning back.

“Hush. I didn’t break the skin.”

He’s calm now, his appetites satisfied for the moment. All in all, it’s been a banner day for him. He found me, got a blow job and jerked himself off, and gained himself a fiancée who he immediately turned around and whipped. And he got to murder poor Vlad as a bonus.

And maybe Naz.

My heart twists. Don’t think of him now. Don’t think, or you’ll never be able to do this.

Keeping my gaze lowered, I stand and wait for Dimitri to tell me what’s going to happen next. I have a million questions, but asking even one would be setting a foot into a minefield. Better to let him lead the way from here and be as docile as a lamb.

Or, more accurately, a wolf in lamb’s clothing.

He touches my mouth. “What are you smiling about?”

God, my stupid face. I can never keep it straight. “I’m afraid if I tell you, you’ll beat me again.”

He lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I give you permission to speak freely.”

“I . . . was wishing . . . that I could hurt you.”

His lips curve up. He’s amused. “Would you like that? To hurt me?”

“Yes.”

I say it with so much emphasis, he chuckles.

“And how would you do it? Would you tear off my fingernails with pliers? Pour acid into my eyes? Slice off my testicles with pruning shears?”

With vehemence, I reply, “I’d set you on fire and watch you burn until you were nothing but a pile of smoking ashes, then I’d squat on top of the pile and take a shit.”

For a moment, he’s so stunned he doesn’t react. Then he throws back his head and laughs. “My God,” he says, choking with laughter. “What a little savage. Attila the Hun wasn’t half as fierce!”

“Attila the Hun didn’t live with you for seven years.”

“Exactly.” Dimitri closes his hand around my throat and draws me near. His eyes are bright with victory. His teeth are bared. “That’s exactly right. You’re my creation. My offspring. Like Athena born from the forehead of Zeus.”

Though I know he’s crazy, his words hold the haunting weight of prophecy. “No. I’m not like you—”

“You’re just like me, my love. The only difference is I accept what I am, and you don’t.” He puts his mouth next to my ear. “You killed two of my men. If you get the opportunity, you’ll kill me. You can no longer claim innocence with all the blood on your hands, especially when you don’t harbor guilt for any of it.”

He pulls away and smiles at my expression of horror. “Take the blinders from your eyes, Evalina. Mice don’t survive in lions’ dens. Only lions do.”

With that, he takes my hand and leads me from the cellar.

EIGHT

EVA

We get in the Phantom and drive. Stefan follows in another car. Vlad is left to rot where he fell on the stones of the cellar.

I inhabit that black place inside my head again, which is becoming more and more comfortable. It’s quiet there, and safe, a warm crawl space under the stairs of a scary old house where I can draw my knees up under my chin and hide from the monsters.

Monsters whose familiar cackles hint that I might be one of them, too.

“We’re here.”

I blink, drowsy, my thoughts thick and sluggish. Looking out the window into a foggy gray dawn, I see a mansion, this one not nearly as dreary as the last. White and sprawling, it sits on a hill surrounded by evergreens so tall they must have been growing for centuries.

“Here?” I watch a hawk circle lazily over the trees. It banks hard and dives like a bullet behind a hedge, then appears again, climbing back into the sky with a small wriggling bundle trapped in its talons.

“Home.”

When I turn to look at Dimitri, his blue eyes are shining with excitement. He sits beside me, close but not touching, the heat of his body a constant reminder that beneath his cool, polished exterior, the pulse of an animal beats.

“I thought it wise to find a new nest for us. Considering.”

Considering Tabby and Connor have his old address and would look for me there, he means. He planned it all out in advance, naturally. My capture, surrender, acceptance of his hand. I wonder if I’ve surprised him by how quickly I gave in.

Probably not. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been able to anticipate my every move. My head is a crystal ball to him. He can gaze into my eyes and see my future.