Chapter 44
forty-four
“It’s so fitting, my Pandora.”
A voice echoes through my mind, and I can’t tell if it’s real.
“So fitting. Your dress. The veil…”
Something covers my eyes, making it even more difficult to see the room and the black, flowy figure in front of me.
My throat burns raw, like something clawed its way down and never left.
“I’m thirsty,” I whisper.
“I’ll fill you up soon. But I need to make sure the timing is right.”
“Timing?” The tip of my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.
It feels as though my arms are glued to a chair. When I glance down, I make out leather straps holding them in place. I blink rapidly as a small straw is shoved into my mouth.
“Drink.”
With the first squeeze of chilled water, I moan and squirm against a stiff wooden chair. No, not a chair. I’m lifted into the air like…like on a throne.
“That had something weird in it.”
“Iron. Just a hint. So very observant.” The cloaked man’s finger taps the end of my nose. “So clever.”
“G?” I ask, trying to remember what happened in Aiden’s office before I got to wherever I am. The room is dim. Only lit by a few candles. It appears to be underground. There aren’t any windows, and the stench is…horrid. Dust and rot.
It smells like Sanguine Manor, but worse.
He lifts whatever is covering my eyes, his cape flowing in front of me. With a dramatic flair, he pulls back his hood, black hair gleaming like pitch in the flickering flames. Then, his full mask. And I see his face.
The man who has sat behind me for the past year.
Quiet. Forgettable. Safe.
“You understand why I chose that name, too, right?”
“Because you’re Grayson—”
“Tut, tut. Come on, Pandora.” His gloved hand reaches for me, and I flinch. “Because of your father. I thought you’d feel more comfortable with me that way.”
My face screws up in disgust. “You chose to tell me your nickname was G because that’s what my father goes by?”
He shrugs, as if this makes complete sense. “Of course.”
When I attempt to shift out of the chair, he eyes the bindings on my arms. My legs seem to be free, though. “What’s this about?”
“Our ceremony. I can’t have you, not fully, until the chosen time. But I will.” He leans in close, and I back up as much as I can. My head hits the stones behind me. “My love…join me.”
“Join you where?” I ask through tight lips. If he tries to kiss me, I suppose I could let him. And kick him in the groin.
He laughs and wanders farther into the room. A shadow disappearing into the night. Only his voice echoes back to me. “I want you beside me.”
“Beside you?”
Silence is his only response.
Keep him talking, Scout.
“So…G. What’s with the organs? Do you, um, like, eat them?” I say louder than normal, because I don’t know if he’s even still in the room. Blinking hard, I try to adjust to the light.
“Your liver is gorgeous. So perfect. I’m sure all of your organs are.
I almost took something from you on Thursday.
” He reappears, looking forlorn, eyes searching the dirt floor.
“Alas, I gathered up what I could from your best friend. She was the perfect sacrifice. A substitute. So you and I can make more for the Gnu.”
My brain’s still too fucked up to understand anything. “What? I don’t understand.”
“Malkaos, my darling. He’s the seventh. And I was convinced I angered him with subpar samples, but then? I found you. He gave me you, Scout. My Pandora. The mother of the next generation. Together, you and I will gain more of his blessing. We shall be wed as soon as I can turn in my key.”
Key… The tangram.
“Your tangram.”
G nods slowly. “Yes! The tangram. It’s a key. We’ll finally be able to worship him together. Making new life. After we take an old.” His thumb brushes over my lips as he studies them like an experiment. Beholding me like I’m under a microscope. “Those who are unworthy don’t deserve to live.”
“What’s… What’s it a key to?” I whisper.
As utterly petrifying as it is, Gray’s face turns almost seductive as he grins, wide and slow. “To a higher plane.”
Brown eyes twitching, he smiles like he just said things that make sense. Only to him.
I swallow. “What does that mean?”
As if I hadn’t even spoken, he nods suddenly and spins around. “I need your liver. I’m sure Malkaos will be pleased.”
I gasp, a whimper cutting off the sound.
“Oh, don’t worry, my Pandora.” He returns to the light, then raises a candle up so the entire room is revealed. “I only need a small piece. Not the entire thing. And, as you know, a liver can practically heal itself.”
There’s a surgical table in the middle. Straps. An IV pole… And a medical tray with lots of instruments laid out on a sterile drape.
My pulse stutters as I lose a breath. This cannot be happening. If I had anything in my stomach, I think I’d vomit.
“Y-You’ll cut my hepatic artery and—”
“Not going that deep, Scout.” He approaches me again and leans in. His lips brush against my ear until I shiver with disgust. “Just need a tiny taste of you. One for my god and one…” He giggles deliriously. “One for my tongue.”
He lifts the scalpel like a priest raising a sacrament.
With a swift shift of my hips, I drive my knee up and nail him in the groin. Or it’s what I aim for. The cloak covers most of his figure. But I hit him somewhere.
He groans in pain, dropping to the floor, his candlestick forgotten.
Hurriedly, I rock side to side until I can work one of my wrists out of the bind, then undo the other strap. Thank Caliphylla, I have small hands.
You know what?
Fuck the gods.
He rises off the floor as I free myself. As soon as I stand, he snags one of my ankles. I scream and swiftly kick him in the face. Just like in soccer. My toes crunch against his cheekbone. But I can’t feel anything. Not right now. The drugs. The adrenaline. The fear has taken over.
I sprint away as he yells behind me. “Stop! Stop! I need you, baby!”
The cold stones cut into the soles of my feet. But I press through the open door, not even knowing where I am, or where to go. Just away from the madman behind me.
Darkness swallows me as I stumble into the hall. The only light is a tiny trickle of silver jutting down a long passage. Holding back tears, I try to follow it, but it’s farther away than I realize.
Loud breaths echo off the walls. I can’t tell how far behind me he is, and the sounds bouncing around are messing with me. I could easily get turned around.
Finally, my bare feet hit a set of stairs, and I climb. Scrambling up each step as fast as possible. Heavy boots slap behind me.
I bust out of a door and into a…crumbling parlor. This is…
I recognize this place!
I’m in Sanguine Manor!
Hurriedly, I rush toward the front door. My hope sinks in my chest as I approach, spotting the board nailed over it. With shaky hands, I tug on the knob anyway, but it doesn’t budge.
“Pandora, seriously. You’ll get hurt. And I don’t want you to get hurt.” A manic screech tears from his throat like a deranged laugh. “Not unless I do it myself.”
I scream as his hand reaches for my bicep. Pumping my legs in a hard sprint, I find a set of stairs that looks eerily familiar… Like the ones I ran up on Thriller Thursday.
Yes! This is the path! What if I got to the attic? What if I could hide?
“Scout! I love you. We’re perfect. Malkaos approved it. The elders agreed with the most high god. If I can sacrifice your mortal husband…you and I can finally be. You just… You need to feel me. Feel me inside you.”
Every haunting word he speaks sends me surging forward.
“Let me impregnate you. Take the pills. Then, I can be with you. All night, my darling.”
I want to curl up and cry. The terror is too much with ecstasy still lingering in my veins.
My heart racing. Breaths panting. The sweat.
Plaster crumbles around me. Floorboards crack dangerously.
Just as I think I can’t go on, he hums and whistles. Or sings…something that sounds like a Tyla Silk love song.
“Without your blood…life is meaningless. Without you…I need more nourishment.” But he’s warped the lyrics into something menacing.
What… What do I do? Am I to die here? Like this?
“You love lollipops. I know this. And you can’t cook, but that’s okay. I can do that. Just let me love you. Deep inside.”
I can see it now. The president will explain it away that I took drugs and overdosed and got myself trapped in Sanguine Manor. A tragedy.
The POT will assign my poor widowed husband someone else. Someone awful. I’d have to come back from the grave and kill her.
A tortured sob releases from my lungs, slowing me down just thinking of him without me. Or me without him.
If I can get upstairs in time, I could drag something in front of the attic door. Cut him off and hide.
I burst through just as I did on Thriller Thursday. Desperate, I scan the room for anything I can use.
Anything…
A sofa.
I scramble over to it and shove my whole weight against it, but it feels bolted to the floor. A wardrobe in the corner is also immovable. Hopeless, I release a silent scream.
The door flicks open, and Grayson creeps to a stop. “My Pandora…”
I back up until my ass hits an open third-story window. I glance down at the darkness falling so very far below me.
I know exactly what my options are.
Fight the man holding the scalpel?
Or jump.