CHAPTER 63 #3
“It’s time to play a different game now,” Devryck interrupted, his eyes on me again. “The one where I fuck you in front of her.”
Needles of panic numbed my throat, and I shook my head. “You touch me, and I’ll–” I choked on the last word.
“You’ll what?” He stared back at me with a cagey grin. “Fighting only makes it better for me.”
“Fuck you.”
His eye twitched. “That’s a fantastic idea.
” He spun Gilchrist around to face the fireplace.
As he strode toward me, he peeled off his shirt.
Tattoos and scars colored his chest and abdomen–a skull jester, a dagger piercing a heart, another skull in barbed wire with gears and a clock’s face, and two pissed-off looking dragons at each flank that disappeared behind his back.
My heart stuttered.
Not Devryck. Definitely not Devryck.
Oh, God.
I scrambled backward, as he lowered to his knees in front of me, tongue sweeping over his lips.
Rough hands gripped my ankles, jerking me toward him.
“You’re … you’re … Caedmon,” I whispered. A part of me felt relieved, the other part of me still reeling from the shock.
“What is going on?” Gilchrist asked, neck craning over her shoulder.
Fists planted at either side of me, he pushed forward, caging me against the back of the couch, as if he might kiss me.
I kicked my head to the side in refusal, and he licked the edge of my wound that’d bled moments ago, twisting my stomach.
“So loyal to him, aren’t you?” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth. “Pity. I love a good revenge fuck.” Where Devryck smelled of cinnamon and cologne, Caedmon smelled of mint and leather with a hint of campfire. “Did you like my artwork? I made it for you.”
“You did that to Angelo?” I spoke as low as I could to keep Gilchrist from making out what I’d said.
“Devryck had a head start with his tongue, and some severed body parts. Appendages, mostly. His hands are in a specimen jar. How fucking romantic.” His dark chuckle spiraled around my nerves, squeezing them.
Oh, God , Devryck had actually cut them off, as promised.
“My brother’s come a long way, hasn’t he?
” A gentle grip of my jaw turned my face back to his.
He shared the same copper-colored eyes as Devryck, though his held more of a feral glint. “He isn’t like us, though.”
“How so?”
“This scar that Angelo put on your face?” He shifted his gaze to my wounded cheek and back.
“He put one on me, too.” He leaned back, offering a view of his torso, where a white scar marked a slash in his stomach, covered by his dragon tattoo there.
“You and me? We’re gonna go on a little ride together.
” He released me and jumped to his feet, swiping up the discarded shirt. “Now.”
A glance to Gilchrist and back, and I frowned. “You can’t just leave her like that.” I had no good reason to help the woman, but it wasn’t right to leave her tied up there. I scurried toward her, keeping my eyes on him, in the event he tried to stop me with one of his blades.
Once her binds were loosened, she scrambled out of the chair, letting the sheet fall to the floor as she pushed to her feet.
At the tight grip of my arm, I turned on a gasp to see Caedmon pulling me after him. I wrenched my arm to get loose, planting my heels as firmly as I could. “Where are you taking me? Just tell me, and I promise I won’t fight.”
His eyes shifted from Gilchrist to mine, and no doubt, he’d picked up on my intent to have her privy to the location in the hope she’d run into Devryck. “The university,” he said, as if it didn’t trouble him to reveal it.
“You won’t get in. Not without an admin code,” Gilchrist argued.
Caedmon swung back around. “I already have a code.” Devryck’s, no doubt. A rough jerk of my arm had me stumbling after him.
I had no reason to trust him. I had no reason not to trust him, either, even if he was a hell of a lot scarier than Devryck. He was still Devryck’s brother, after all. The one he’d thought was dead all this time. The one who plagued him with guilt.
I followed Caedmon out of the house to Gilchrist’s car in the driveway. At first, I thought he’d try taking her car, until he unsheathed his blade and slashed two of her tires.
“Why would you do that?”
He didn’t answer, just tightened his grip, yanking me after him toward the gate.
“So, that was you. In the cellar. With the mask?” All the time I’d thought of it as nothing but a trick of my head, it turned out to be real. When he didn’t bother to answer, I added, “Interesting choice of costume.”
“It belongs to your boyfriend.”
“What?” A divot in the lawn rolled my ankle, and I stumbled, bringing Caedmon to a stop.
A mild ache throbbed in my foot, only a minor distraction to the turbulence pummeling my thoughts, as I grappled with his admission.
No. Devryck had told me the costume I’d seen was all in my head. “You’re lying.”
“The liar is the one you’ve been fucking all this time.” Grip tighter than before, he pulled me after him as he continued on his path.
“What is the costume for?”
“To hide their faces when they murder.”
“Who’s they?”
“The Rooks. Your little fuck-toy is one of them.” It was clear, in that moment, that Caed harbored animosity toward Devryck. Did that extend to me, as well?
I twisted my wrist, testing the strength of his grip, only to find it was immovable.
“Was it you following me around on campus?” I asked, as we breached the iron gates that I recalled seeing with Devryck when we’d visited the mansion.
He didn’t answer, but offered an insidious half-smile that reminded me of his twin.
The similarity between them was unmistakable, but the more I stared, the more I noticed the differences, too.
The small, subtle scars on his face. A wound at the back of his neck, as if it’d been cut open at some point.
Scars on his hands, some discolored and stretched, like his skin had healed wrong. He was the broken version of Devryck.
He headed toward the woods with little concern over the sharp twigs that scratched at my feet, as I hopped over the brush after him.
“Why did you kill Angelo? I don’t believe that was for me.” It seemed far too passionate of a kill for him to have done that for me.
“Had I known Angelo was hiding out with you the whole time, I’d have spared you that scar.”
The pieces suddenly snapped into place. Realization dawned on me. “It was you. You were after him. You were the one he was afraid of. You’re the one who brutalized that rich guy, the CEO, or whatever he was.”
He swung around, and before I could even so much as breathe, he gripped my throat. “Don’t,” he said through clenched teeth.
Fear shook me as I took in the deadly glint in his eyes. Whoever that man was, he’d done something to him, that much was clear.
I stared back at him, not saying a word, until he finally released me.
With another yank, he dragged me forward toward a small stone structure that reminded me of a petite cottage. Behind it stood a sleek black motorcycle–the sporty variety.
Shaking my head, I backed up a step. “I’m not getting on that thing. Not with you.”
Ignoring me, he shoved a helmet toward me, which I pushed away.
“Don’t fuck with me. Put it on.”
“At least tell me this much. Do you plan to kill me?”
“Every minute that you stall putting that helmet on, I find less reason to keep you alive.”
With trembling hands, I slid the helmet over my head, letting out a pained hiss as the cushioned interior of it slid across my stitches. Helmetless, Caed kicked his leg over the bike and jerked his head for me to get on.
I could’ve run, but I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t kill me.
So I did as he told me.
I got on the fucking bike.