9. Unmasked
9
UNMASKED
REMIEL
The taste of smoke and fear still lingers in my throat. My first coherent thought is for my house, which is probably burnt to the ground by now.
Everything I own is in there, reduced to cinders and ash. Everything I worked hard for, earned all on my own, and paid for with money made from The Ambient Raven. My memories and secrets are in that house, but like my life, it now burns. I don’t even have a vehicle anymore.
Blinking, my eyelids are wet and heavy. My lashes all stick together, and when I rip them apart with another blink, a darkened room with a single glowing light greets me. The light is a neon sign on the wall, a purple skull shining down from one corner of the room.
I immediately know we’re in Vile House because the walls are made of old stone and the draft in the air makes me shiver. The window beside me looks down over the backyard area, the party still going loud and strong.
My lungs hurt when I inhale, making me cough hard enough that a rag shoots out of my mouth and lands on my lap. My almost naked lap. My red boxers are all that cover me, my toned torso naked and my legs and feet bare. Something is written all over my skin—letters and lines snake around my arms and up over my shoulders. Even my thighs are covered in black marker, but it’s too dark to make out the words.
Movement draws my eyes to the glowing purple sign. He’s here. Krypt. The man in the purple mask.
He’s shirtless, standing with his back to me in a pair of black pants and boots. His entire back is tattooed with one design. A skull face in black ink that stretches from the curve in his neck down to the waistband of his pants. The eyes are black and the bones are cracked, the teeth jagged and chipped. KRYPT in block letters is written on a curve below the jaw, and at the very top of the skull, VILE HOUSE glows under the light. Splashes of purple mingle with the design, and it’s so daunting yet so beautiful that I can’t take my eyes off it. Especially when his muscles ripple and the words move with his body.
His mask is on, the strap of it tight around the back of his head. Dark hair waves down to his nape, shaggy and longer than I thought. It should comfort me that I think I recognize his hair, but it only scares me more. I don’t know what he’s doing over there, but his hands are busy and his attention is focused.
“Where’s Cain?” I ask, my voice hoarse and weak.
“You shouldn’t ask about other men while you’re half naked and your body belongs to me,” he says to the wall opposite me.
“It’s not my fault I’m half naked.”
My body isn’t as defined as his. I’m muscled and a little bulky, but not as toned. Tall, but not as tall as him. And he’s clearly proven he’s more dangerous than I am.
“Cain?” I ask again.
“Alive,” is all he answers.
My mind is slow and my body is stiff. I can’t move my arms because they’re tethered to the chair, but I roll my ankles to get the blood moving in case I get the chance to run. All the while, my eyes take in the back of his body. “Why spell Krypt with a K?”
“I don’t like the letter C,” he says. Then he turns around. His chest is bloody from whatever he did after knocking me out, and his mask covers the features of his face, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel his eyes on me. That sixth sense I have sparks to life, and whatever he’s about to do to me will be ruthless. My nape prickles and my thighs clench, anticipating what my brain considers the worst. It probably isn’t even close to what he has in mind. He’s already sexually assaulted me once, and I haven’t had the time to process it yet.
“What’s wrong with the letter C?” I ask, stalling. Instinctively, my arms thrash and try to break free the closer he gets to me. Something buzzes in his hand, and my throat dries. “What’re… what’re you doing with that?”
His head tilts as he studies all the drawings on my body. Now that he isn’t blocking the light, I can see what they are. Krypt. His name, written all over me. My stomach, chest, arms, and thighs are covered in his name, written in different fonts and styles and sizes.
He pulls up a stool and a small cart with black ink pots on it. “To complete our bargain, it must be etched into the skin,” he says. “And blood must be drawn.”
I thrash harder.
“Having second thoughts about the deal we made?”
Yes and no. I’m terrified of him, and now that I think I know who he is, it doesn’t make me feel any better because I feared him long before I knew he belonged to Vile House. But if I have to put my life in someone’s hands and trust that they’ll complete my tasks, it’s him. Although…
“I’m doubting your ability to follow through now that I know who you are.”
“I agreed to it, didn’t I?” he asks, voice calm but jittery again. Like the words want to come out too fast.
I try looking at his eyes, and I quickly look away when I see all his monsters rattle their cages. “You’ll end all three names on my list?”
“You said gone. Since it’s him you’re asking about. I’ll make him gone until you say otherwise.” He reaches out to flip my arm over. The restraints burn at my skin, but there’s enough leeway to flip my wrist. A vertical scar stands out in the purple light, and his thumb brushes it. “Tell me why you made the deal, Remiel.”
“It’s none of your fucking business.”
“Mmm,” he agrees. “But as soon as I mark you as mine, everything about you will be my business, so you might as well tell me.” He presses on my scar, making it hurt. “Reeven Matterson,” he states the first name.
No point in hiding since I’m already laid bare before him. “He’s the man who leads the Matter Cult, and he’s been terrorizing my mom’s side of the family ever since she got us free of the cult. I want him gone to protect my family.”
“Gregory Malone.” The next name comes from his tongue with no acknowledgement of my reasoning.
“Has done everything within his power to turn me and my brother mad. He’s the reason my youngest brother killed himself, and he’s trying to speed up the timeline for me and Soren. I can’t let that happen.” And he was the man stalking me the night I ran to Vile House to strike this deal. He chased me here, so it’s only fair that I sic my new hound on him.
“Soren Sauder,” he says my brother’s name while his thumb continues to press on my scar. “Dead by a hand other than his own? To end the curse?” he guesses.
That’s what I wanted him to think, but I didn’t say dead. I said gone. I have a very strong feeling that I’m going to be next. I’m going to get pushed to my breaking point and end my life, and when that happens, I want Soren somewhere he can’t end his own. I want him to break the curse by being so well- contained and protected that he’ll never have the chance to kill himself. I want him gone, owned by someone else, so thoroughly controlled that he won’t be able to lift a blade or swallow a pill without someone breathing down his neck and stopping him. I might hate my brother, but I love him, too. I want him to live through this, even after I’m gone, to see the curse lifted from our family.
“Answer me,” Krypt demands.
“I want him owned,” I say. “Protected until I’m dead, even if he hates it. Because… because I want you to kill me so the curse breaks and Soren lives through it. When I’m gone, dead because of you instead of suicide, he’ll have a chance to live the rest of his life without the curse hanging over his head. He needs to be contained and watched until I’m dead.” I meet his eyes and all the monsters within them. “I want you to kill me to save my brother.”
Krypt’s hand tightens on my wrist, his fingertips pressing into my scar. My hand goes numb and a cry breaks through my pursed lips. “That’s not the bargain you struck. You only said gone. I’ll make him gone.”
“And kill me when he’s safe,” I add.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. You belong to me now, and I’m not letting a pointless death have you.”
I grit my teeth together and curse myself for not being more clear when I made my deal with this devil. “I have ways to make you change your mind. I don’t think it’ll be hard to entice you into killing me.” My smile is fake, but it feels sick and twisted… and good. “There’s no point in keeping the mask on. I already know who you are. Which is how I know you won’t kill Soren.”
“Careful, Remiel,” he says, fingertips trailing up my arm and stopping at the marker sketched onto my collarbone. “If you know who I am, you also know that I’ve killed those I love before. My love is dangerous. My attention is worse.”
“Take the mask off.”
He tilts his head. “Blood first.”
The tattoo gun in his hand buzzes, and he doesn’t give me any time at all to brace for it. The needles prick into my clavicle, and I hiss out a pained breath.
“Once you know my identity and the identity of others in Vile House, you are banned from sharing it with anyone. Usually, it’s punishable by death, but since you want death, I’ll add my own stipulation.” He dips the gun and brings it back to my skin. “I’ll force you to kill yourself, and then I’ll make sure Soren is next. I know exactly how to drive him mad. The Sauder curse will live on. All your young little cousins will be next.”
My eyes drip tears of pain and defeat. “Fine. I’ll keep your Vile secrets.”
The tattoo gun keeps moving, burning. “You will stay with me from now on. Here or at my house, wherever the fuck I want you. You’re mine, and I get full control of your life.”
“That why you burned my house down like a psycho?”
“Agree.”
“Fine. But you can’t assault me anymore.”
“I can,” he declares. “And I will.”
I gulp, but it turns into a hiss when the needles dig so deep they hit my bone. “Do all bargains come with ownership and sex?” I’ve never heard that before, but… what do I know about Vile secrets?
“No. But yours does.” He glances at my eyes. “You can’t interfere with Vile business, and you have no fucking say over what I do or don’t do. When I want you with me on jobs, you’ll be there. When I don’t, you’ll be under the care of my brothers or locked in my room. When you work, you’ll keep your fucking hands off Cain Carson.” He trembles, probably too many Cs in my best friend’s name. “Actually, you’ll keep your hands off everyone. If I hear you touch someone or they touch you, I’ll cut parts of them off until you get the hint. Got it?”
Jesus. I’m too far gone now anyway. “Fine.” Not like I touch many people anyway. “Wait. What if my mom wants to hug me or something?”
He dips the gun and tilts his head at me. “No touching unless I give permission.”
“My god, you’re fucking crazy.” I squirm under the gun, but it only digs in deeper. “What else?”
“There is no timeline on our deal. Until I free you, you’re mine. Even after your conditions have been met and the three names on your list are taken care of. Mine. Agree.”
Until he kills me, yeah. “Fine.”
“My true name will never be revealed. You’ll keep it a secret until the day you die. If we’re in public together and I’m unmasked, you’ll call me by my birth name. If we’re in public together and I’m masked, you’ll call me Krypt. But that won’t happen. If I’m with you while I’m masked, you’ll also be masked. Got it?”
“Fine.”
“The same rules apply to anyone else’s identity you learn in Vile House. Trust me, if you reveal Vile House secrets, there are so many ways I can ruin you without killing you.”
I nod, not doubting that. Tears leak harder now, soaking my cheeks and dripping onto the tattoo he’s giving me. Blood drips down my chest, mixing with black ink.
“I might be crazy, Remiel, but good luck enticing me into killing you. I’m very patient,” he says. “Everything you know, fucking everything, is about to change. Are you ready?”
I don’t know what that means, but I nod regardless. I’m ready. Because I don’t plan to live through this. He will murder me, and when he does, the curse on my family will lift and Soren will carry on the family name in a new light. No more suicidal Sauder men.
He sets down the tattoo gun, washes my skin, and presses clear plastic to my new tattoo, taping it in place. Then he pulls a dagger from the band of his pants, slices the tips of two fingers open, and smears his blood across my face and lips. I don’t even cringe.
“Bargain struck?” his jittery voice asks.
“Bargain met,” I agree.
“Lick your lips,” he demands. When I do, his other hand smacks the underside of my chin, making me bite my tongue so hard it bleeds.
I don’t get time to wince. His fingers mix our blood, pushing it into my mouth and against my tastebuds. When he pulls them free and pushes them under his mask to suck the blood off, my hips move and the copper tang of us clouds my mind.
“Welcome to Vile House, Remiel Sauder.” He frees my hands and places them on the edge of his mask.
There’s no going back now. I rip it free.