Chapter Sixteen
The drive seems to take forever, even though there is hardly any traffic on the roads at night.
“Drive faster,” I snap at the guard more than once.
He does as he’s told, probably exceeding every speed limit. I can see the fear in his eyes. Fear that I’ll betray him or that someone could have witnessed his sin. But I don’t have time to feel guilty.
As soon as we reach my apartment, I yank open the car door while the car is still moving.
“Wait here,” I instruct him.
The last thing I need is another person seeing Ava in her current state and maybe even being harmed by her.
The front door has been left slightly ajar, lights are on in the hallway. Tinkerbell presses herself against my legs as I enter the house. She mews softly.
“Miss Ashton, is that you?” asks a frightened voice.
I look up and find Mrs.Hughes standing on the top landing, keeping close to the wall. Her face is pale, and her wrinkled hands are trembling. How much of what happened did she witness? She must have heard Ava screaming.
“Yes, Mrs.Hughes, it’s me,” I reply, trying not to sound quite as out of breath as I am.
“What’s going on? There were men. And then all that racket…”
The old lady coughs, and I seize the moment to slip through the open door to Ava’s and my apartment.
Please, don’t let me be too late!
It’s like a bomb went off in here. There are broken things everywhere. Shattered cups and plates, and a vase Ava used to collect dried flowers in is smashed, the plants and shards now spread across the floor. In between torn books and clothes is something that looks like oatmeal mixed with blood, leaving a trail from the living room to Ava’s room.
I press a hand over my mouth to stifle the panicked sound that wants to crawl out of my throat. What happened here? Did Ava do this in her unbridled rage? Or did the sin mages who manipulated her wreak havoc on the place?
I tiptoe my way through the chaos to the closed door of Ava’s bedroom, trying to avoid the broken shards. Tentatively, I raise my hand and knock.
“Ava?”
Nothing.
“Ava, are you in there?”
I knock once more. I’m feeling queasy. My roommate could be lurking in there, waiting for me to enter, waiting for just the right moment to attack me. Maybe she’s taken one of the knives from the kitchen or… Or maybe something has happened to her. All that blood had to come from somewhere.
Please! Please let her be okay!
I briefly consider waiting for Caden. But who knows if he’ll even come, and if Ava’s hurt, every minute counts.
“I’m coming in now.”
My voice is quiet, almost toneless. For a moment, I’m not sure I’ve even spoken the words out loud. Slowly, I push the door open, prepared to retreat the moment Ava tries to attack me.
The silence is stifling. To be honest, I would prefer a scream or any outburst of rage, really. But there’s nothing. Nothing at all. Just the sound of my erratic breathing.
“Ava?”
Something’s lying on the bed. A curled-up bundle. At first, I’m not sure if it’s just a bunch of clothes that my roommate carelessly threw there. She’s not exactly known for her tidiness. But as I step closer, I recognize Ava’s reddish-blonde hair, the silver strand that’s come loose from her braid, streaked with blood.
“Ava!”
I rush to the bed and shake her gently by the shoulder. She’s probably just resting. She’s spent from all that anger. That’s all.
But Ava doesn’t move, and when I pull my hands back, they’re covered in blood.
Lots of blood.
No. No, no. It can’t be.
“Wake up! Ava, wake up! Ava, please.”
Again, I grab her shoulders. Again, I shake her. Her head falls from side to side like a lifeless doll. Her expression is peaceful, like she’s sleeping. But she is not asleep.
Desperation makes my throat constrict. I struggle to breathe. Tears run down my cheeks.
This can’t be happening.
It just can’t.
There’s got to be something I can do for Ava. Maybe if I gave her mouth to mouth… How does that work again?
Think. Think!
I need to call an ambulance. I should…
“Don’t bother, princess, your friend is dead. Made sure of it myself.”
I spin around. A man’s leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He’s clearly a sin mage. I can tell by the tattoos that adorn his neck and peek out from under his unbuttoned shirt. Snakes and some runes I would rather not know the meaning of.
Though I suspect he’s telling the truth, I jump up from the bed and stand protectively in front of Ava. He’s just three steps away. Three steps separate him from doing to me what he did to my best friend.
“What did you do to her?” I blurt out.
He shrugs indifferently.
“What does it look like? Once she’d called the palace, she had served her purpose. And she was terribly annoying in her anger. I mean, have you looked at the living room? What a mess. I made sure she didn’t lay waste to any more of it.”
Is this some kind of sick joke? The guy killed Ava because she was getting on his nerves?
Anger flares up inside me, outweighing the grief, outweighing everything.
The sin mage licks his lips as if I’ve just served him a special delicacy.
“Hmm,” he purrs. “Smoky and a little bitter. Just the way I like it.”
I throw myself at him. He doesn’t need to fuel my anger, it’s already there. And it blazes strong, like an all-consuming fire. I don’t care if he has a gun. I don’t care that I might die. Right now, all I want to do is cause him pain. Make him pay for what he did to Ava.
My elbow catches him in the stomach. My hand cuts across his face, leaving red marks in its wake. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I fight. Fight with all I have.
The sin mage growls angrily. The taste of his wrath settles dark and earthy on my lips. I spit, trying to get rid of it, and it lands on his cheek.
“Stop it!”
He manages to grab my wrists and hold me tightly. His grip hurts, but I don’t give up. I kick and squirm until I hear someone calling from the next room.
“Is the princess giving you trouble, Syrus?”
That’s Jared. I recognize his voice.
Syrus’ arms encircle my body, and he’s pressing me against him so tightly that I can barely move.
“I could use some help,” he says, breathing heavily. “You didn’t tell me what a raging bitch she is.”
“Well, that’s because when she was with me, she was very tame.” Jared enters Ava’s room, a disgusting grin on his face. Gently, he strokes my cheek. His fingers rest coolly on my heated skin. “Isn’t that right, Kaya?”
“Go to hell!”
This earns a quiet laugh from him.
“That’s exactly where I plan on going. And you, honey, will accompany me.”
I feel a pinch in my bicep. When I manage to turn my head a little, I see a syringe in Jared’s hand. He must have given me something. My arm throbs dully, and I feel dizzy. My eyelids grow heavy.
“Don’t try to fight it, princess. It won’t do you any good.”
Syrus snorts in amusement. His grip eases a little, and I slump in his arms.
“Careful. You don’t want her to crack her pretty little head open,” Jared warns him.
Then I’m jerked upright and lifted into someone’s arms. My head falls back and the world blurs before my eyes until everything goes black.
I’m freezing.
The piercing cold is the first thing I notice. That and the steady drip of water.
I seem to be locked in a dark basement. Dim daylight falls through a tiny window at the very top of one wall. Is it early morning, or is the sun setting again already? How much time has passed since Jared and that Syrus guy kidnapped me? And where am I?
Slowly I straighten up and lean against the cold stone wall. My skull throbs as if someone had hit me hard. I squint into the darkness.
The room is no bigger than a pantry. It smells musty. There is nothing in it except the worn mattress I’m sitting on. I must be in a cellar, and the door looks heavy. It appears to be made of steel. I struggle to my feet and jiggle the door handle, but of course it’s locked. No chance of getting out that way.
“Hey!” I yell, banging on the door. “Hey, is anyone there?”
I listen, but everything remains silent. No one’s coming to get me.
What do these guys want from me? They didn’t kill me like they did Ava, so they must be hoping to gain something from keeping me alive. Maybe they want to blackmail Caden.
Caden.
He’s my last hope. I pray that he got Erin’s call and went to my apartment. He would at least know something’s happened.
But will he save me? Even if that means having to give in to Jared and Syrus’s demands? And will he even be able to find me in this underground hole?
I stand on tiptoes to look out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the surroundings. But it only leads to a shaft. I can see a grate high above through which light falls. The acrid stench of waste fills my nostrils. Presumably the grate leads to a backyard somewhere in the East End.
I return to the mattress, sit down, and pull my legs up to my body. Ava appears in my mind’s eye, lying lifeless on the bed in her room. I can’t imagine the horror she must have endured, the fear she must have felt. Or was it anger that defined her last minutes? Anger at me for keeping things from her. For putting her in this position.
It’s all my fault.
Resigned, I close my eyes. I feel like crying, but it seems like I’ve already shed all my tears. I feel empty, and fatigue envelops me like a heavy blanket.
The squeaking of the door wakes me. I must have fallen asleep from exhaustion. My limbs ache from the fight with Syrus, from the aftereffects of the shot Jared gave me, and from lying curled up and pressed against the wall.
When I turn my head, Syrus is there, casually leaning against the doorframe. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, revealing muscular forearms. Two red scratches, which I must have given him in the heat of the moment, run across his face.
“The princess is awake. Did you sleep well?” he says with a sneer.
He lets a water bottle roll across the gray concrete floor toward me. I would love to refuse him, but I’m just so thirsty. I open the bottle with nervous hands and take a few greedy gulps.
“What do you want from me?” I ask breathlessly after I put down the bottle.
“What do we want from you, your highness? To have a bit of fun, nothing more.”
I warily watch as Syrus reaches behind him. Fabric rustles. Then the sin mage tosses what looks to be a dress into the room. “Put this on. If you don’t, I’ll come in and help you put it on. Believe me, it would be my pleasure.”
His tongue runs over his lower lip in a lewd gesture.
What are you going to do with me? I want to ask, but Syrus has already turned away and closed the door behind him. I hear the key turn in the lock.
On my knees, I scootch to the edge of the mattress and pull the pile of clothes toward me. It is indeed a dress. The long, black skirt is flared and made of a gauzy, multi-layered material that is almost see-through. The top is low cut and made of black lace. When I lift the dress to get a better look at it, something falls to the floor with a clatter. A golden tiara set with red stones.
What is this? Why would Syrus want me to wear this? I doubt he wants me to go to a party.
I press the fabric of the dress to my chest, unsure what to do. I could refuse to put it on, but Syrus’s warning has me scared. I don’t want his filthy fingers, which have Ava’s blood on them, touching me, ripping off my robe and nightgown and then putting me in this impossible dress. I decide I better change before he comes back.
My body shivers from cold and fear as I hastily remove my clothes and trade them for this awful rag. The dress doesn’t fit well. It’s so tight at the hips that I have trouble zipping it up. On top, on the other hand, the fabric is loose and gaps at my chest. I cross my arms protectively as the key turns in the lock and the door opens again. Syrus surveys me with a satisfied nod.
“Good decision on your part, obeying me. Now put on your crown, princess, so we can be on our way.”
My gaze darts to the hallway behind Syrus. I could try to escape. But I have no idea where I am, and there’s an ominous gleam in his eyes, as if he’s just waiting for an opportunity to get back at me for the scratches on his face. First, I need to get the lay of the land, I decide, and pick up the tiara from the floor, tucking it into my hair.
We walk down a narrow corridor; neon lights flickering overhead. We soon reach a wooden staircase. The steps are worn, nails randomly sticking out of the carelessly fastened boards.
“Ladies first,” Syrus says, pointing up.
I have to lift my skirt so that the fabric doesn’t get caught on something. The higher I get, the more sounds I can hear coming from above. The muffled boom of a bass, voices, and the clinking of glasses. There are people up there—lots of people. But I realize with dread that probably none of them will come to my aid.
At the top of the stairs is another door. I hesitate to open it, but Syrus presses impatiently against my back.
“Come on, princess! Your subjects await you.”
What’s with him calling me princess all the time? At first I thought it was just a stupid nickname Jared and Syrus came up with, but I’m starting to think there’s more to it. Have I fallen into some kind of crazy role-playing game?
I don’t hesitate any longer and open the door. The music gets louder, people turn to look at me. Someone shines a spotlight on me, and I’m practically blinded.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my esteemed friends, I present to you Miss Kaya Ashton, Princess of the Empire,” Jared’s voice booms from a speaker.
Applause and whistles. Syrus gives me a shove, and I stumble forward, spinning around once in confusion and earning spiteful laughter. Someone reaches out and tugs at my skirt.
“She got all dressed up for you guys,” Syrus announces.
Princess of the Empire?
My hand goes to the tiara on my head, but before I can touch it, I’m grabbed and spun around.
“Dance for us, princess!” a voice calls.
“Yes, dance!”
I’m pushed forward. Thanks to the spotlight, I can barely see anything. The crowd is just a vague collection of shadows. My eyes water as I try to make out individual faces. Panicked, I attempt to find my footing and end up stumbling into the arms of a bearded man. He presses a kiss to my cheek before pushing me away.
They must have formed a circle around me, because suddenly I’m being pushed from all sides. There are hands everywhere, touching my body, pinching me and reaching into my hair.
A woman forces me to open my lips and pours the contents of her glass into my mouth. I taste the tingling alcohol, with some spilling out and running down my chin.
“Please,” I plead chokingly. “Please don’t.”
But nobody listens to me.
It’s a nightmare. A nightmare I have to wake up from somehow. I shut my eyes tightly and imagine that none of this is real.
Not the laughter.
Not the touching.
Not the pushing.
And then an arm closes protectively around me. I breathe in the scent of expensive whiskey and crackling fire. My legs give out in relief and Caden catches me, holding me tightly.
He’s here.
He came for me. To save me.
Everything’s going to be okay now.
The music abruptly stops, the spotlight winks out. And I suddenly realize we’re in the strip club in the East End where I first met Jared. The red carpet, the heavy purple curtains—this is unmistakably the Crime and Punishment.
The men and women gathered around us begin to back away from Caden. One girl is so frightened she drops her glass. A man with a cigar pulls her aside and stands protectively in front of her, as if afraid Caden will lunge at her like a tiger going after its prey. Only Jared seems unperturbed by Caden’s appearance, jumping off one of the stages where the girls usually dance. Wearing a burgundy suit and a top hat studded with silver sequins, he looks like a ringmaster in one of those old picture books.
“Mr. Caden Nicholas Nox.” He drags out each word as he leisurely saunters over to us. “How nice of the King of the Underworld to join us. We were just having a little fun with your little princess there.”
“Jared. What part of she’s mine didn’t you understand?”
Caden’s voice is cold and dangerously calm, but I can feel his heartbeat against my back. It’s racing, revealing more to me than Caden’s words ever could. I’m still in danger.
Jared tilts his head and watches us closely, then laughs.
“You know, there’s something I don’t quite understand, Caden. What exactly gives you the right to claim her for yourself? Why are you the only one who’s allowed to enjoy the princess? We are all her loyal subjects. Doesn’t that mean she belongs to all of us?”
He holds out his arms wide, gesturing to the entire the room. The bystanders murmur in agreement. Some of them even dare to step closer again.
Princess? Subjects?
None of it makes any sense. The whole thing makes me want to laugh hysterically.
Caden’s arm tightens around me.
“What do you hope to gain from this, Jared?” he asks. “Were you hoping to hurt the king by taking his daughter? He doesn’t even know she exists.”
Daughter? This has got to be a joke.
I free myself from Caden’s grip so I can look him in the eye, but his expression gives nothing away.
Jared takes his top hat off and twirls it in his hands. The sequins catch the red glow of the overhead lights.
“Just because you found her first doesn’t give you the right to decide what’s to be done with her,” he says, putting the top hat back on.
Caden’s muscles tense. “She’s one of us.”
“She’s the king’s daughter!” someone shouts.
And while I’m still trying to comprehend what’s been said, the murmuring of the bystanders begins to swell.
“Let’s go!” Caden says close to my ear and grabs my arm.
We try to make our way through the crowd. Past shimmering clothes, sweaty bodies, and grim faces. The exit is only a few steps away. I feel as if I can already feel the cold breeze from outside on my cheeks. But Jared’s voice stops us.
“Not so fast! You didn’t think we were just going to let you two walk out of here, do you? The party is just getting started.”
Caden turns to face him, infinitely slowly. The look of unadulterated anger on his face makes me cringe. But it’s directed at Jared, not me. My heart hammers at the tension in the air.
“Don’t test me, Jared. You know my patience is limited. And you know I can make life very difficult for you in the East End.”
Seemingly unimpressed, Jared just shrugs. Then he opens the cufflinks on the sleeves of his shirt and rolls them up, as if getting ready to fight.
“Oh, I’m well aware, Caden, and I’m willing to take the risk.”