Brutal King (The Seven Deadly Sinacores #7)

Chapter 3

3

SOFIA

I wake long before my eyes open. It’s not by choice. Not some smart move on my part to determine the possible danger around me before giving away that I’m conscious. It’s that my lids are practically fused together by the dryness. Even if I managed to pry them open, I’m sure the light filtering through the window would blind me. As it is, it’s making my headache worse by the second.

I’m hungover as fuck, and though I’ve snuck enough alcohol into my dorm room to know the symptoms, I don’t recall how I got this one.

What the hell did I get into last night? Did I get into Jenn’s secret brownie stash? No. That wasn’t it.

I ran. I met a man.

Mr. GQ.

Gideon.

My eyes scrape open as I bolt upright from the bed I’m in. Everything’s hazy, my vision cloudy. Which makes it all the more terrifying because the little I can make out is completely unfamiliar.

It takes a lot of blinking to clear it up, but all it does is confirm my worst fear. Last night wasn’t a dream and neither is this.

Do not scream. Do not panic. Assess your situation. Bide your time. Make a plan. Execute.

That’s what my father told me to do if the unthinkable ever happened. One of his greatest fears was that they’d use his princess against him. I never believed I’d be important enough. Anyone that wanted to truly hurt Nico Sinacore would aim for Tony. He was his pride and joy. Luca was the black sheep, but he’d still be a better target than me. No one could get close enough anyway, not with the amount of guards that surrounded me.

I was obviously wrong.

Okay, I can check the first thing off my list. I didn’t scream. Not that I do usually, I’m more of a gasper.

Second, assess my situation. What’s the last thing I remember? The pretty house with the inviting porch. Then, Gideon’s eyes reflected in the window. They’d changed, their sexy twinkle replaced by something dark and terrifying.

Did he drug me? Damn me for finding him so attractive. I blame my hormones. I also blame my family for not letting me get this out of my system in a safer environment. Maybe if I’d been allowed a boyfriend, I would have been less inclined to lust over the Devil.

Try as I might to recall anything beyond the sight of Gideon’s icy blues, I can’t. That, coupled with this mean headache and horrid dry mouth confirms I was indeed drugged.

I sit up and run my palms over my body, my clothes, feeling for anything that might be torn. Other than being knocked out, it seems I’m unharmed.

Next, I examine the room I’m in. It’s fit for royalty, something that could be a part of some castle, with walls covered in silk, a warm fire crackling in the stone fireplace and the canopied bed in the center. To one side is an alcove with a cushioned bench and a small stained-glass window above it, depicting what looks like rolling hills. On another wall are large beveled glass French doors.

I stand, being careful of every step I take over the wide plank wood floors, hoping there isn’t a squeaky one like at my room in Briar House. In the suite, I find a bathroom. It’s not huge, but what it lacks in size it makes up for with posh elegance. Its cream walls contrast beautifully against the pale pink marble counters and floors. Fuzzy floor mats are strewn about, in front of the shower and under a pink leather bench. A tiny crystal chandelier hangs delicately, its light reflecting warmly off the gold accents that dot the space.

It’s feminine. The whole thing is. Even though it’s not my style, I can understand why this room would be chosen for me. It’s made for a princess and that’s all I’m perceived to be.

Looking toward the other side of the room, I see the door that likely leads to the hallway and is possibly guarded. Across from it, the door that leads outside and is also possibly guarded. Both equally terrifying.

Choosing to check the French doors first, I silently move to them, making sure to put all of my weight on my toes as I go. At minimum, I need to understand my geographical position. My heart pounds in my chest as I take hold of the levers and push them open, my feet ready to sprint at the sound of an alarm. There’s nothing, only the wind and sunshine and the calling of a few birds in the distance.

I step onto the balcony and peer over the thick stone rail. This time, I do gasp. I was right about being in a castle. The room I’m in is at least three stories up and part of a massive house.

However, that’s not what has me suddenly doing everything I was told not to do in this situation. It’s that this grand place is located in what looks to be a vast forest. There are trees as far as the eye can see, in every direction save for the one where a mountain juts high into the clouds.

There are no towns. No houses. No shopping centers. No one to scream to for help even though that’s exactly what almost erupts from my mouth.

Suddenly, all that space overwhelms me, crushing me with its immenseness. In a panic, I slap my hand over my lips and scramble back inside. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks, but I ignore them.

I have to get out of this place!

Grasping onto every ounce of courage I can muster, I open the bedroom door and peek out. I’m at the end of a long hallway with many doors and dimly lit by wall candelabras. I tip toe in the only direction I can, staying close to the wall, ready to go into one of the many doors should I hear anything.

The hall bends to the left and opens into a grand gallery. I approach the wooden balustrade to find that I’m indeed on the third floor.

An enormous chandelier is suspended from a domed ceiling, and hangs several feet down, over the black and white marble flooring of the first floor. The broad staircase is just as impressive, rising to a landing on the second floor that’s crowned by a stained-glass window. From there, the stairs split into two, one that leads to where I am, and the other to the opposite side of the open foyer and a hall like the one I just came from, wide and with doors on either side.

I descend to the second-floor landing, glancing around the many halls and doors that branch from here. Although the curious side of me would love nothing more than to explore each one of those spaces, the part of me that cares about self-preservation urges me to continue on my way to the front door.

My sneakers make contact with the marble on the main level, and I cringe at the audible thud. I remain still, listening for anyone in the vicinity before taking another step, and another, inching my way toward the exit ahead.

To the left is a parlor. A comfortable looking couch sits in front of a tall fireplace, it’s inviting heat emanating all the way to me. I lean forward to get a better glimpse of the entire room, searching for my captor. When I don’t see him, I sprint.

And slam full speed into a hard wall.

Only, it’s not a wall at all, but a man.

“Flying off so soon, Little Bird?” Strong arms wrap around me and keep me tight to his chest. I attempt to push off, but they’re like steel, savagely unyielding.

“Let me go!” I glare up at him, but he’s completely unfazed by my hatred.

Giving me a smile that would make the Devil proud, he tightens his hold before suddenly releasing me. I fall hard on my ass and scramble back when he reaches for me.

Plastering myself against the wall, I stand. He’s in front of me, as handsome as I remember, and yet, the visual confirmation is still hard to believe.

“Don’t come near me!” I scream when he takes a step toward me.

“Calm down, Sofia.” He lifts his hands in a placating manner, as if that should be enough reason for me to relax.

“Where am I? Why did you bring me here?” I demand.

“This” —he motions to the space around us— “is my home, Kingsbrook Manor. And I brought you here because I wanted to.”

“Because… You wanted to?” I blink at him in confusion.

“Exactly.”

“Who are you?” I ask, my voice smaller than I’d like given my vulnerable predicament.

“Can you take a guess?” There’s something in his silvery eyes, the same predatory glint I saw in the reflection of the car window just before everything went dark. It sends a shiver up my spine. Every alarm in my body is activated at once, blaring the warning that this man is more dangerous than he appears. And that’s saying a lot because at the moment, he appears fucking deadly.

My brain rapidly tries to make sense of all this. Of who he might be and why he’d have any interest in me.

Gideon Black. That’s what he introduced himself as. Was the name a lie? Even if it wasn’t, it’s not what he’s asking.

He takes another step closer, and another, and I’m standing on my tiptoes, practically trying to crawl up the wall to get away from him. But it’s impossible because he’s everywhere—his chest touching mine, palms flat against the wall behind me, his arms caging me in.

“Can you not guess who I am?” he asks, urging me on.

I shake my head. “I’ve never met you before.”

“But you have heard of me.”

“No.”

“Think, Little Bird. Who. Am. I?” One side of his mouth pulls up as he locks his gaze onto mine. He’s not attempting to get into my head. In fact, it’s the opposite. He wants me in his.

And I see it. I see who he is and it’s so obvious to me now.

I dig my nails into the wall, wishing I could somehow tear a hole into it that will swallow me up. But the reality of my situation is worse than being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Being scared of the Devil doesn’t make him go away. Still, I’m unable to keep the fear from my tone when I whisper, “The Ferryman.”

His eyes drop to my lips and I swear his pupils dilate. He lifts his hand and places it on my throat, and though he doesn’t apply any pressure, I can hardly breathe. “Your heart is fluttering. Are you afraid of me?”

“No.” Damn. That sounds like a lie even to me.

He chuckles. “What have you heard about me that has you trembling like this?”

“You’re killing men for revenge.” And I’m here because my brother is somehow a part of it. I swallow loud enough for him to hear. “Are you going to kill me?”

He runs his thumb over the vein pulsing in my neck. “If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

“Then what do you want?”

“A game.” His eyes lift to mine once again and I’m instantly hypnotized by their icy beauty. Even if I wanted to look away, even if they terrify me knowing they might be the last thing I see, all I can do is stare back.

“A game?” I ask.

“Do you like games, Little Bird?”

Sure. I like games as much as anyone else does. In fact, I’m quite competitive. But, I don’t think he’s talking about the same kind of games. Safe games. Good natured games. Sane games.

However, I might not have a choice but to play.

“What is it?” I ask.

“If you make it to the front door before I can get to you, I’ll let you go.”

I glance at it. It’s not far, a few yards at best. He’s tall, but I’m fast. Not to mention the boost I’ll get from the huge dose of adrenaline that’s just been pumped into my bloodstream.

“You’re on,” I say.

“Wait.” His blue eyes sparkle. “What will you give me if I win?”

There’s no mistaking what he wants from me, making my offer an easy one. “I’ll give you a kiss.”

One dark brow arches in interest. “Better yet, I’ll take a kiss.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“Is it?” He grins in a way that makes me feel unsure and unsteady, like the floor beneath me can give at any moment and I’ll fall.

“Is this a trick? You’ll really let me go.”

He takes a step back and I nearly fall forward with the relief the small distance provides.

With a gentlemanly bow, he says, “On my honor, I swear it. If ” —he adds emphasis on the word— “you reach the door.”

My eyes flick from him and his long legs, to the door and back, my brain calculating the speed at which I need to take off to have any hope of making it. I gnaw on my lip in distress. It’s not impossible, but the chances are slim.

Still, I have to try.

“All right,” I agree.

Gideon takes another step back. He lifts three fingers and begins to count down. “Three. Two…”

Every muscle in my body prepares to sprint. There’s no option between fight or flight. If I don’t fly, I’ll be his prisoner forever.

“One.” His last finger goes down.

Run!

I shove off the wall with all my might, like a swimmer pushing off at the start of a race, so that when my shoes hit the marble floor, I’m already a few feet ahead.

The race to the finish line doesn’t last but a second. Two at most. Then just like that, my hopes are dashed. Not that I ever had any.

I’m an inch away, my fingers so close to the door knob, when his hand wraps around my arm and yanks me to him. Then, I’m slammed against the door, my face and chest pressed to it, Gideon crushing me from behind.

I let out a cry of sheer frustration and rage as I’m cruelly held prisoner. “No!”

“You lost.” His tone is low and gravelly. A barely restrained growl. He grabs my wrists and pulls them above my head as he turns me. “I believe you owe me a kiss.”

“Never,” I hiss.

He leans in, his breath fanning across my lips, his eyes focused on my mouth. “You agreed to let me take it. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

My breathing all but stops as he stretches out the moment, hovering so close. A move meant to torment me just for the fun of it.

“Get it over with!” I demand.

“So eager, sweet bird.” His amused chuckle infuriates me.

“You’re a fucking monst—” The words are not only cutoff, but obliterated from my mind the instant his mouth makes contact with mine.

Heat radiates from his lips, warming my blood like whiskey. No. Not whiskey. Something far more toxic. Some kind of drug or poison. It makes me feel dizzy and inebriated and stupid because it takes me far too long to react.

“No!” I cry into his mouth. Or at least, I try to.

He takes advantage of my parted lips to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue inside, feeding me more of that toxin that’s muddling my brain. When he tilts his head and breaks the kiss for a millisecond, I suck in a breath. Then, his mouth is against mine once more.

This time, I’m ready for the assault on my senses. I bite down on his full lower lip until I taste blood. When he yelps, I lift my knee in a quick jab and hit him right where it will hurt him the most. He pushes off me as he doubles over.

Though I’d love to gloat, I don’t have time. I don’t even bother looking back as I swing the door open and fly out into the cold.

My heartbeat pounding in my ears, I’m deaf to almost everything as I orient myself. I run to the left, following a path around the house in search of a way out. However, just as I noted from the room I woke up in, there are woods surrounding the property. I see no cars, no roads, no break in the trees.

Ahead, there’s a helicopter sitting on a landing pad, confirming what I suspected. There’s no way out but this.

“Fuck!” I scream, but don’t allow myself to slow down. Instead, I push harder to flee. If the only way to leave is through the forest, that’s the way I’ll go.

I race full speed over the expansive lawn, and punch into the line of trees with so much force a flock of birds takes flight overhead.

Harder, faster, my feet soar over dead leaves and knotted roots. Everything rushes past me, the trees becoming a blur as I aim to put as much distance between Gideon and me.

Ahead, I finally spot a clearing. I ignore the pain in my side and give it everything I have to burst free of the forest.

“Help!” I call out to anyone. “Help me! Hel?—”

The large manor I just escaped from looms ahead. Like something out of a fucking horror movie, all I’ve done is circle back.

“No. No!” I turn around and enter the woods again. This time, I go slower. I make sure I’m heading in a straight line, no circling back. “Help!”

I run as far as I can without doubling over, gasping for breath. Why didn’t I join track when Jenn asked me to? Oh right, because I’m a fucking photographer not a runner!

I glance up to the sky through the canopy of the trees. I’m completely surrounded with no apparent way out. When I look back, I realize I don’t remember which way I came from.

Everything begins to spin. I’m lost. I’m utterly lost in the woods and I don’t have a clue how to survive this.

“Give in, Little Bird.” I whirl to Gideon. He’s approaching carefully, stalking me like a lion would an injured gazelle. “It will be dark soon and it’s not safe out here.”

“And it is in there?” I demand, pointing a finger in the direction of the house.

“The house” —he points in the opposite direction— “doesn’t have predators roaming in it.”

“You’re a predator,” I retort.

“Believe me, Little Bird,” he says with a chuckle. “You’d enjoy it far more if I were the one to eat you.”

I hug my arms around myself, so unsure now of what to do. “Just let me go.”

“No.” There’s no room for negotiation this time. No chance for a game. I’m tired and he knows it. “Come. Maybe you can try again tomorrow.”

With my head bowed low, I follow him in.