Chapter 52
52
I don’t know that I’ve experienced anything quite like sitting three men down—each of whom most likely knows how to end lives with their bare hands—while explaining to them over dinner what happened when I had my encounter with Vitto. Trying not to stumble over my words as I detailed what was said, and the threats made against me, resulted in a room that turned into a powder keg, set to ignite at the briefest hint of a spark.
Blue, hazel, and brown eyes all drilled into me with an intensity that left me swaying. The three of them bristled with a monumental rage and looked ready to leave and take down the entire Anguis if given half a chance. It took everything to keep my head, to convince them I needed to know they would stay right there on their respective stools as we sat around the kitchen island.
Their fury might be the reason I lose them, and I’m determined not to let that happen.
We’ve come to a set of rules—firm agreements implemented in the week following my encounter with Vitto. The terms of my life and how I spend my days are spelled out for me with no uncertainty or space for misunderstanding.
I won’t go anywhere on my own.
One of them will always be with me, even when I’m at the house.
In return, they have assured me of their commitment, their promise not to start the kind of war that would guarantee no survivors when the scorched earth is finally revealed to be left smoking and charred.
In the grim stretches of silence that night, I think we all came to the mutual understanding that this is going to require us to work smarter, not react in the way Vitto so clearly wants. His presence, the foul stench of him lurking around Noire House, is a sure sign he’s prepared to fight dirty.
That man knows exactly how much his proximity alone is likely to provoke Grey and Hawke, never mind how it might cause Angel to snap and do something that cannot be undone if they were to cross paths.
So, I once again have my own personal shadow. Except, where it felt oppressive when I first arrived, now I’m more grateful than any of these men could possibly know for their attentiveness.
My stupid heart is theirs, and I keep trying to figure out how on earth I’ll ever find a way to tell Grey, or Hawke, just how hard I’ve fallen for them.
With Angel, we’ve fought our way to a place where the cards are laid on the table between us, and we both carry that intimate connection dearly.
But the other two men at the center of my world remain the wild creatures they so naturally find themselves at home being. How could I possibly expect them to suddenly undo all those years upon years of trauma, just because my stomach is filled with butterflies whenever our hands brush, or our eyes meet?
I’m delusional if I think they’ll ever open up on a deeper level. At this point, having whatever meager pieces of them I’m able to cling to, still feels like scaling the castle battlements.
It’ll have to be enough for now.
Grey:
Doc just got in touch. Your bloods were fine, love.
That new shot will be effective for a good while now.
The messages from Grey arrive just as I’m wandering around in my towel, getting dressed. In the aftermath of our moment together in his workshop, my butcher arranged for the man they call Doc to come to the house and handle everything. Running a thorough check-up, followed by renewing my shot.
Grey knows how to undo me, to mess with my lust and taunt me, all while being careful to ensure it remains a fantasy only. It’s intense, and melts my brain, but I trust him to never actually be reckless. He just has a wicked mouth that he knows how to run, and understands how to make my body feel electrified.
As I pause to type a quick reply, Angel walks in, and the look on his face immediately sets a chill in my veins.
“Is everything ok?” I already know it isn’t. The strain is evident in his jaw and brow, and my giant protector looks at me with eyes that burrow into my heart.
He crosses the room and wraps me in a hug against his chest, wordlessly giving me the kind of physical touch I’ve grown so enamored with. As he kisses the top of my head, I stroke up the back of his spine and simply soak up the connection between us. The silence feels so natural now, and even though I’m filled with dread at what this moment might be the prelude for, this right here is one of millions of tiny opportunities to communicate with him. A language of touch, rhythmic heartbeats, and the glide of fingertips across warm skin.
When he eventually pulls back, his throat works beneath his beard, and I know he doesn’t want to tell me. Angel has that look in his eyes that he gets when he simply wants to race away from here, to outrun the ghosts and terrible things that come with being part of this world.
“Just tell me… whatever it is… we’re in this together, remember.” My fingers reach up to cup his jaw, and he tilts his head to brush a gentle kiss against my palm.
Angel hands me his phone, and the message sits stark and ominous on screen, received only minutes ago while I was in the shower.
Hawke:
We have to take Poe to Andreas’s offices. He’s summoned her, and while I don’t fucking like it at all, we have to follow his instruction.
Everything has changed, and that’s all I know.
Go with her, please.
I wouldn’t trust anyone but you to keep her safe there, Angel.
I’ll stay here with Grey, try to find out what I can, and make sure he doesn’t lose his goddamn mind. Or do something we can’t undo .
“We have to go now?” I look up from the messages on the screen.
The man before me is like a statue, fighting an inner argument, one that he ultimately loses. Angel nods solemnly.
It’s time.
We arrive at a high rise in the center of Port Macabre, and amidst all the glass and dizzying heights of expensive real estate, lies the office of Andreas Noire.
I know he doesn’t spend much time at Noire House itself these days, from what I’ve been told about this man in passing, but I guess the corporate guise works well for him to keep his true dealings hidden away.
After spending so long out on the sprawling estate grounds, with nothing more than wind whistling through the forest and occasional bird calls filling the air, it’s an onslaught to the senses to be back in the city again.
We’re on a completely different side from the urban sprawl where I used to live. This is the hub of wealth and power and certainly nothing like the side of the tracks I’ve always inhabited, where I barely scraped by paycheck to paycheck.
Angel leads me from an empty parking garage into a private elevator lobby, only accessed by a secure biometric scanner. It’s only these little details that keep reminding me we’re not simply visiting an ordinary businessman. We’re, in fact, stepping into the pit of a fanged, poisonous creature who enjoys dining on the flesh of the innocent.
As the elevator doors swish closed on a silent glide, my pulse begins to ratchet the higher we climb. Numbers glow on the display, flickering in a sequence that I don’t think I can watch without feeling nauseous.
With another discreet swoosh of polished steel, we step out onto a foyer that gives no clues as to what lies beyond the vast expanse of glass overlooking the furthest reaches of Port Macabre. Spindly buildings and glimmering reflections of mirrored windows seem to go on forever from way up here, and the tiny dots of traffic crawl around like ants back at ground level.
Except this is no regular suite of offices. We’re immediately met by guards in suits and earpieces, who have weapons drawn as they check us both out. There are no guesses as to how many enemies this man has, and evidently, he takes no chances where that might be concerned.
It leaves a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, because this man is not only powerful, but he takes no risks. What hope do we have of finding a way out of this mess when someone as well equipped to survive within this world remains securely at the top of the food chain, controlling everything he surveys. A conqueror on his throne of gore and skulls of the innocents he’s defiled and destroyed.
“Ahh, Posey.” The man in question appears in the foyer, looking like he’s just stepped out of a board meeting. “Thank you for joining me today. Please come in.” He waves both of us in the direction of his office, where there is a suite of couches and floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the city sprawled out, and it really does feel for a moment like this man owns every and all things that square pane encompasses.
“Come, sit, both of you. Would you care for something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” I smooth my hands over my dress. God, the waves of distrust and angst rippling off Angel are palpable, and they’re leaving me increasingly more on edge .
“Well, thank you for joining me.” Andreas doesn’t even acknowledge the man at my side. As he sinks back into his own armchair, he hooks one leg over his knee and relaxes back against the cushion, keeping his eyes firmly on me as I sit on the couch opposite him. At least there’s a glass coffee table separating us because the intensity of his stare is only adding to how unnerved I am right now.
What am I supposed to say in response to that? ‘You’re welcome. It wasn’t as if I had a choice, anyway.’
But I’m saved from my inner chaos of attempting to find appropriate words for the man who makes my skin crawl simply by having to be in his presence.
“It’s a delicate matter when individuals from other Households are given leave to reside within Noire House.” He muses, clearly right at home, listening to the sound of his own voice. “Even more so where the matter of certain bloodlines are concerned. I’ve always prided myself on being a welcome home for those who might seek to live outside of their respective house lineage.”
Andreas pauses, and while he doesn’t look at Angel, who refuses to take a seat and simply stands guard just over my shoulder, it’s clear he’s allowing those words to hang in the air as a thinly veiled threat.
His reminder for us both that Angel’s presence, his life lived with Grey and Hawke, is attached to this man’s whims and decisions.
“While it has been a pleasure, Posey, to grant you the opportunity to undergo your initiation within Noire House, it’s my understanding that your time with us is due to come to a natural conclusion any day now.” He twists a signet ring on his finger that I immediately recognize as being similar to the one Vitto wears.
“I haven’t been made aware of any details.” Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I try to focus on my breathing. The way he just said that, so calmly, as if I’m about to be handed off any minute now, leaves my stomach rolling like a churned-up ocean.
What the hell am I going to do if he announces that I’m to leave with Vitto, or some other member of Lilith House?
“ Mmm .” He studies me thoughtfully, and I fight every urge to show him just how foul his attention feels. “Although, considering the blood running through your veins, Posey, it really would be a shame to lose a valuable commodity such as yourself.”
He’s talking about me as though I’m an item to collect, and it leaves my tongue feeling numb.
“I’m not sure I follow.” The words come out weakly.
“What would you say if your future was guaranteed at Noire House? What would you say if you weren’t required to join the ranks of Lilith House?”
The directness of the question catches me off guard.
“I—uh—” My fingers curl into my palms, indenting my nails into the skin as I fight to find words. Everything in me wants to turn and look at Angel, to catch his eyes, but he’s standing out of my line of sight. His presence looms behind me, so close I can feel his body heat, but right now, I want to be able to look at him so badly.
This feels like a trap.
“You may have been Elysium Household-born; however, you’ve been initiated within our world. Not only that, but I would imagine there are three very compelling reasons you might wish to remain within the ranks of Noire House, are there not?”
His face looks somehow triumphant. Without explicitly saying it out loud, he already knows all about what I have with Hawke, Grey, and Angel, and it’s so casual the way this man throws his power around. He might not know everything, but he knows enough.
I straighten my shoulders and hold his eyes. Screw him and his games. I’m not going to dare give him any indication that I might be fearful of his actions, or moves against my men.
“Yes. You’re correct. While I don’t believe my choice comes into the matter, if I were given the option, I would prefer to remain here.”
That draws a chuckle out of Andreas. “Oh, our boy Hawke has trained you well, Posey… and in my eyes, it would be a crying shame to let all of that go to waste.”
“What about the arrangement with Lilith House?” All I can hear echoing in the back of my brain is what Vitto said to me. That he knew all about the men who attempted to force me and assault me on camera, along with his intentions to claim what he deemed to be his.
“Sweet Posey, you just leave the dealings to me. I’ll ensure your services will be exchanged for suitable Household members. After your exceptional performance, there are many interested parties amongst our faithful. I’ll make sure those who were anticipating your arrival will be duly compensated. Not only that, but I can personally guarantee you that you won’t be subjected to any untoward advances from outside Households.”
“You would do that… make the exchange on my behalf?” I don’t trust this man at all, but what he’s offering…
Andreas flashes a too-white, polished smile. “I believe you’d quite like to remain here, and yes, it would be nothing to make that happen. A mere formality.” He flicks his fingers in a casual arc. Poof, your problems would be gone thanks to my influence, is what he’s saying.
All the fine hairs on my arms are standing on end. This feels like I’m walking into a hidden net, and that pit in my stomach keeps growing the more this man keeps talking and the longer I remain in the dark as to what alternative I might be agreeing to.
Seeing my hesitation, he shifts his weight and sprawls at complete leisure, filling his chair. “It’s ok. You can take all the time you need to make your final decision.”
I can already hear the but behind that statement before he tosses his cards down on the table with a triumphant crow. The build-up prior to his concealed hand finally being laid out for us. Before he sinks the hidden dagger right into the hilt, the deadly strike that I just knew was lying in wait this entire time.
“However, there’s just the little matter of your rescue, and the subsequent fallout from that little operation.” For the first time, Andreas lets his eyes drift to the man standing behind me. There’s a sudden chill that sweeps in to fill the room as he takes that moment to finally address him.
“Angelo, as you know is not of our lineage. And while I have been generous in allowing him to remain within our ranks for the many years he has, it would appear that in rescuing you, Posey, a fellow member of Noire House, was felled at his hand.”
The pit in my stomach falls through the floor. Not only at the revelation that someone involved in my captivity was linked to Andreas Noire’s world, but that he knows Angel murdered one of their own while saving me.
Fuck. I already know that whatever this man says next is going to deal us a crushing blow. Blood pumps hard inside my ears as a distant ringing fills my senses.
Not Angel. He can’t go after my Angel.
“Taking the life of a Household member.” Andreas tuts, and it’s so fucking condescending I want to smash this coffee table and jab a glass shard into his throat. “Angelo has crossed a line, one that means I wouldn’t be able to continue to offer hospitality within Noire House any longer.
He steeples his fingers and gives a look that says just how readily he will act. It’s no empty threat. I imagine those armed guards he has stationed outside the door would haul Angel out of here at gunpoint if Andreas so much as lifted a pinky finger to instruct them to do so.
“As a member of Lilith Household, he is only here on my grace, and seeing as he’s killed a member of Noire House, I would have no choice but to turn him over to Lilith…”
“I’ll agree to it. Whatever you need.” I blurt out. “Just tell me what it is I need to do.” The words fly from my lips with a desperate force, and behind me, there’s a rippling tension and agony coming from the man I love wholly. A man I would do anything to protect.
A knowing smirk briefly flashes across Andreas’ face before he pulls out his cell phone and taps the screen a few times. “Wonderful.” He muses, then pockets his phone once more.
“I’ll make the necessary arrangements, and I’ll call on you soon to confirm the details of your transfer of duties to Noire House. I’ll have you know, you are already very much sought after. There are several candidates who have approached me enquiring as to whether there might be a possibility of you joining us here within the Household on a permanent basis.”
God, I feel lightheaded. Is he talking about the likes of Grey’s father? Any one of those other individuals who watched me on that platform?
Andreas stands up, and I do the same, feeling a little like I’m in a tailspin. Not knowing which way is up anymore, or what the hell I just committed myself to.
But I don’t fucking care. Angel cannot be sent back to live under that brute Vitto’s control.
For the man standing at my side, I’d lay down my goddamn life.