The Devils’ Darling (Verona Falls University #3)

1. Mackenzie

Chapter 1

Mackenzie

“Here, pretty kitty, kitty…”

The male voice is distant and muffled, but I can still pick up on its teasing, taunting tone.

I’m in the dark. I don’t know how many hours have passed since I was brought here, but I’m still none the wiser about who’s taken me. Could Paxton have hired some men? It’s not his style, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible.

I’ve been curled up in a ball on the cold, metal floor of the cage these animals have put me in. A cage! Like I’m a dog. I push myself to sitting. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed broken glass from having screamed for so long, though it did no good. The chill has worked its way down to my bones, and every muscle aches. I’m grateful for my sweatpants but wish I’d worn something more on top than my tank top. My arms are bare and covered in goosebumps.

From somewhere above, a lock clicks open.

“Here, pretty kitty,” the male voice taunts again.

I freeze, my breath solid in my lungs. The clink of metal on metal reaches my ears—the key to the door, perhaps?

Tink-tink-tink.

A door opens, except it’s set up high in the wall. Light floods into the room, illuminating a wooden staircase that leads down to the concrete floor that my new home—this disgusting cage—is set upon. My eyes water at the sudden intrusion of light, and I turn my head, my hair falling over my face. It’s still slightly damp from where I’d washed it at the spa, so I know I can’t have been missing that long.

I’m sure I can still smell chlorine on my skin from my time in the pool with the guys. I’d showered, but it lingers. I inhale deeply, trying to take myself back to that happy place. What will they be thinking? From their point of view, I’ll have just vanished. Will they believe I’ve simply run? It’s not as though I don’t have a history of doing just that. But things were good between us, finally. We each have our issues, but it felt like we’d managed to put them aside so we could be a unit. My heart aches with longing. I pray they don’t think I’ve abandoned them.

I imagine them thinking I’ve taken too long in the changing rooms, of coming in and trying to find me. How long would it have taken them to realize I’m not there? I try to remember what happened to my phone. Did I drop it? If so, did whoever has snatched me pick it up? I wonder if my location can be traced, but then I remember it’s only a burner. I’ve deliberately made myself untraceable.

I gulp back a sob.

Heavy, slow footsteps land on the stairs. They creak under the man’s weight.

I force myself to take in my surroundings, blinking in the sudden glare. If I’m going to survive this, I need to know my enemy.

Slowly, my eyes grow used to the light, and I’m able to make out the person coming down the stairs. He’s almost at the bottom now. A hood is pulled down over his face, holes cut out for the mouth and eyes, like a man about to rob a bank. He’s big, thick with muscle, a t-shirt stretched across the bulk of his pectorals and biceps.

Who is this man? What did I do to deserve this? There are others, too. I’ve heard their voices and footsteps coming from above.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and draws to a halt. His gaze fixes on me, still shivering, sitting on the bottom of the cage. His eyes are pale—possibly blue, but in this light seem gray and cold, twin pieces of flint.

I tell myself it’s good he’s wearing a mask. He doesn’t want me to see his face, which means he’s worried about me describing him to someone. I can only hope that means they’re not going to kill me and might even be planning to let me go at some point.

The hint of a smile touches his lips. “Hello, Kitty.”

“Who are you?” I try to keep the tremble out of my voice and fail. “What do you want with me?”

“You’re our little pet now.”

He holds something up in one hand and gives it a little shake. That metallic clink sounds again—the noise I’d heard earlier. Is that a…collar? What the actual fuck?

In his other hand is a bowl. A food bowl? I remember spilling water and quickly glance around. There’s a second bowl already in the cage with me. It’s metallic and shiny, and sitting on the floor.

“I brought you something to eat, Kitty,” he says. “I thought that was a good name for a pussy cat.”

Not a dog. A cat.

The inflection on the word “pussy” leaves little to the imagination.

The collar is for me. He’s actually going to put a fucking collar on me.

My future suddenly flashes before my eyes. Is that what I’ve been brought here for? They’re going to collar me, and keep me in this cage, and what? Take turns fucking me, over and over?

My blood runs cold.

I can’t let this happen, but it’s not as though I have much say in the matter. No, I have to be stronger than this. I must be smarter. I won’t just let them take me.

The only thing I can see as a tiny light at the end of the tunnel is that at least I won’t live long. Without my meds, my seizures will steadily get worse, and, so soon after the one that hospitalized me, I’ll be dead within a matter of weeks, maybe less. But weeks of being repeatedly brutalized by whoever these men are is still too much.

My brain spins with thoughts, and I fight against my rising panic.

Down here, there’s only me and him.

My hands aren’t bound, and neither are my feet.

If he plans on putting that collar on me, he’s going to have to open the cage door. I allow my gaze to slide past him, toward the staircase and the door that remains ajar at the top. What lies beyond the door? More men? Even if I manage to get past this one, will I be able to slip past the others?

One thing I know is I must try. I’m done with waiting for people to rescue me, relying on others to make things right. I need to take matters into my own hands.

The cage is big—tall enough to stand upright in. It’s more like a kennel or maybe a bird aviary. Did they buy it specifically with the intention of keeping me, or was it already here? Could it be that I’m not the first girl to have ended up in this place? The possibility that Paxton has nothing to do with this, and I’ve just been unlucky enough to catch the attention of a bunch of raping, murdering psychopaths, is even more terrifying.

The collar has a metal ring looped around it. I understand what it’s for—to chain me to something like I’m a goddamned animal. To hold me in place while they take me. Tears fill my eyes. Fuck .

“Come here, Kitty,” the man growls. “Hold that pretty hair back for me so I can do this up. You have such a beautiful neck.” His gaze drifts down. “Nice tits, too.”

“Leave me alone.”

“No chance.”

He sets down the bowl, and my stomach turns. It’s not easy to see what’s in it, but it looks like some kind of minced meat. Will I ever be hungry enough to eat from that? Thirsty enough to drink from the bowl? My mouth and throat are already dry, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to take that step. I will, though; I know I will, if I’m here long enough. I won’t die of thirst or starvation just because of my pride.

He uses a key to open the gate of the cage.

I brace myself, every muscle tensed, my breath caught. My eyes are wide and fixed on the space the gate will leave once it’s opened. I know I’ll only get one chance at this, and if I time it wrong, I’ll be fucked.

The man opens the gate then bends to pick up the bowl.

I take my moment and lunge for the opening, trying to get past him. For a split second, I think I’m going to make it, and my heart lifts in hope, but then his thick fingers wrap around my wrist, and he yanks me back so hard, my head snaps from the whiplash.

He swings me back inside, and I crash against the bars on the farthest side. Pain bursts through me as I slide to the floor on my back.

I let out a howl of misery.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

He enters the cage fully and stands above me, staring down at me. His eyes contain a kind of wickedness I’d hoped to never come across.

I lift my hand to protect my face. “Please, leave me alone.”

He jangles the collar at me. “Not until this is around your pretty neck. I’ve had orders from the boss.”

The boss? Who is his boss?

“No!”

I flip myself to my stomach and push onto all fours, but he lifts a large, booted foot, and plants it in the middle of my back, stomping me back down again.

I cry out, pain radiating down my spine and out through my kidneys.

He lifts his foot across me, so he’s straddling my back now. I know there’s no point in trying to get up again, that he’ll only stamp me down, so I reach out and try to commando crawl to get away from him.

He reaches down and fists my hair, pulling hard. He yanks my head back, like I’m a horse in a bridle, arching my neck and spine.

“That’s better,” he growls.

Using his other hand, he loops the collar around my neck, then he releases my hair and sweeps it out of the way so he can click the metal clasps of the collar into place.

Utterly broken, I let out a sob.

“There’s no point in trying to take it off, Kitty. Only a key will unlock the clasp, and you don’t have it.” He chuckles. “Neither do I, for that matter. Only the boss will unlock it, and I can’t see that happening any time soon.”

With that, he leaves the cage and pulls the gate shut again, locking it behind him.

With a trembling hand, I reach up and finger the collar at my neck. I understand what this means. It’s a sign of ownership.

I don’t know who these men are, but I belong to them now.