Chapter 6
6
V oices filter through my sleeping mind—low, deep, and far too close. For a single blissful moment, I don’t remember where I am. Then I feel the hard floor beneath me, the comforter tangled around my legs, and it all comes rushing back.
The manor.
The negligee.
The closet.
The voices grow closer, and I squeeze my eyes shut—hoping that if I can’t see them, they can’t see me. If I weren’t so afraid of making a sound or drawing attention to myself, I’d pull the comforter over my head and disappear beneath it.
But there’s no hiding.
They’ve found me.
“Well, this is new,” one of them says, his tone light, tinged with amusement—Orange Mask. I get the feeling he thinks everything is a joke, even chasing women through the woods at night in the middle of a storm. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a guest hide in the closet before.”
I hope he has a bruise where I hit him with the branch.
A big one.
“We’ve never had a guest,” the voice says, sounding incredibly bored.
“Quiet,” another one snaps—cold and calculated. I think it’s Red Mask. Making the bored one Blue Mask. “She’s waking up.”
Logically, I know there are only so many places to hide in this room. They were bound to find me. Yet their presence still makes my heart pound against my chest, as if it’s trying to run away from them too, even though I’d been expecting them.
At least the pain in my head has dwindled to a dull ache.
I’m reluctant to let them know I’m awake. The lights from their masks spill through my closed lids, a riot of colors bleeding into my vision. When I finally work up the courage to open my eyes, three masked figures loom over me.
They’re much closer than I expected—too close. The neon glow is blinding as they hover in the small space, and I struggle to sit up. The comforter slips from my shoulders, and I clutch it tightly, pulling it up to my chin as though it’s armor.
“Easy,” Orange Mask says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. His tone is almost playful, but the little hairs on my body stand on end, telling me this is anything but a joke. It makes my stomach twist. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“Speak for yourself,” the one in the electric-blue mask mutters, his tone slightly less bored. He’s broader than the others, his dark blue hoodie stretched to its limit when he crosses his arms. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen arms that thick before. It occurs to me how easily he could break me, and I shudder at the thought.
“Enough,” Red Mask says, his tone curt and commanding. The other two seem to defer to him. Orange Mask chuckles as he leans against the wall, his attention fixated on the stupid knife he’s tossing again. “What were you doing in our house last night?"
My throat feels dry, and I swallow hard, wishing I could get a drink as I try to find my voice. “I—I didn’t mean to intrude. My car broke down. I was just looking for help.”
It’s what I tried to tell them last night—or however long it’s been. With storms rolling in and out, the sky thick with dark clouds, keeping track of time feels impossible. For some reason, their presence feels a fraction less terrifying—which is beyond stupid of me.
“So instead of knocking, you decided to invite yourself in and… make yourself comfortable?” The annoyingly playful one asks, his attention fully on me. He gestures to the comforter wrapped around me. “Nice touch, by the way. Fashionable— homeless chic .”
“I did knock!” I snap, hating that he’s able to laugh at my situation. The rush of anger makes my head feel a little too light—I should probably eat soon—and the words tumble out before I can stop them. “The door swung open, and I called out, several times. No one answered. I didn’t know anyone was here.”
Blue Mask scoffs, “And that gave you permission to wander around like you owned the place?” I don’t understand why they are so certain that I have nefarious intentions.
I clutch the comforter tighter, anger raging within despite the fear that still grips me. “I’ve already told you, I wasn’t trying to steal anything. I just needed somewhere to charge my phone. I don’t even know where I am.” A frustrated sob born of my mixed emotions escapes. I—faltering, I look at their feet and pull the comforter tighter, the fire within me snuffed out in an instant. My next words come out in a whisper: “There was nowhere else to go, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
Orange Mask chuckles as he pushes off the wall, clearly finding my despondency entertaining. He stretches, and I see a sliver of tanned skin above his belt, before he looks at the other three—disregarding me entirely. “Well, that was one hell of a chase she led us on. She’s got guts; I’ll give her that.”
Where’s a tree branch when you need one?
Red Mask mutters, “She’s got something.” His focus hasn’t wavered from me for a moment, as if he’s searching for cracks in my story. I stare right back, willing him to see the truth in my words.
His imposing frame towers over me as he leans in, offering a hand to help me stand. “Get up.”
“What?” My voice wavers, my legs trembling as I clutch the comforter around me with one hand, placing the other in his. His grip is warm and surprisingly gentle as he pulls me to my feet. I don’t realize he’s still holding my hand until I feel his callused fingers brush mine as he slowly releases me.
“You’re not staying in here.” His tone leaves no room for argument. The softness he showed me a moment ago is already forgotten. “You want help? You’ll get it. But it will be on our terms.” He turns and exits the closet, leaving the door wide open behind him.
Orange Mask steps aside, offering a mocking little bow as I edge past him with the comforter trailing behind me like a pathetic royal mantle. “After you, thief.”
I glare at him but say nothing, holding tightly to the ridiculous comforter as I step into the dimly lit room. My pulse races, my mind spinning with multiple possibilities of what ‘their terms’ could possibly mean. Josiah’s warnings about evil men and what they will do to me outside of the Covenant play on repeat.
Will they devour my soul?
Their expressions are a mix of amusement and something far more dangerous—something dark that feels both thrilling and terrifying, sending a shiver racing down my spine. I can’t help but think that my soul is, indeed, on the menu.
“We’ve decided,” Red Mask says, his voice laced with steel, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. His arms cross, and he tilts his head, looking down at me with a gaze that feels like it’s cutting right through me. “You’re going to play a game.”
My stomach twists, and while I’ve always wanted to play a game, something tells me this isn’t the kind I’ve always thought of. Yet, I can’t deny my excitement at finally having the opportunity. “A game?”
“Yes,” the one with the electric-blue mask says. “It’s called hide and seek. You’ve played before, haven’t you?” His tone suggests that it’s a common game, possibly one for children, and his question is meant to be rhetorical. But something tells me we won’t be playing by the same rules.
I swallow hard, glancing between the three. Anticipation rolls off of them in thick waves, and I’m certain that doesn’t bode well for me. “No. How do you play?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Oddly, I’m more afraid of their ridicule at my ignorance than the game itself.
They share a look between them, impossible for me to decipher with their masks, but somehow they understand each other. “It’s simple,” Orange Mask says, stepping forward, his voice low and taunting. “You get five minutes to hide. Anywhere in the manor. After that, one of us will hunt you. Fun, right?”
Red Mask cuts in, his voice colder, more deliberate. “You’ll hide from each of us, one at a time.”
“And when all three of us find you,” Blue Mask says—just as I was starting to think their game didn’t sound so bad—his voice dropping, “we get to do whatever we want with you.”
My breath catches painfully in my throat while my heart pounds so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts. “And if at least one of you doesn’t find me?” I ask, my voice trembling. It’s been my experience that when a man says he can do whatever he wants to a woman, it never ends well for her.
Orange Mask shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Then you win. And we leave you alone. Simple as that.”
I don’t believe him for a single second.
“The game ends at dawn,” Red Mask says as he steps closer. I instinctively take a step back, clutching the comforter, which at this point is more an extension of myself than a blanket. “If you manage to stay hidden from at least one of us until then, you’re free to go.”
“But when you don’t,” Orange Mask chimes in, a definite smirk in his voice. “Well, let’s just say it’ll be a long night for you.” The way his voice drops, deep and possessive, is something I’m all too familiar with. However, where Josiah’s voice makes my skin crawl, his makes my stomach do strange flips while heat floods my body.
I shake my head, panic—and that dark thing waking within me—rises in my chest. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, princess, we’re more than serious,” the blue one says, leaning in so his masked face is inches from mine. “But you can make it easier on yourself when the time comes by cooperating. The more you fight us, the harder it’ll be for you. Though, I can’t say we won’t enjoy it.”
My knees go weak, and I fear they might give out at any moment. Josiah used to say similar things to me, but it doesn’t inspire the same dread when they come from this man. I force myself to stand taller, even as my heart races. “And if I refuse?”
“You won’t.” The one with the red mask opens the door to the hallway. I notice he doesn’t actually answer my question, but I have no idea what it means.
This isn’t a choice.
Or is it?
I’m so confused.
What would they do if I refused?
“Tick-tock, time’s wasting,” the orange one says, pulling a sleek watch from his pocket and tapping its face. “Five minutes. I’d probably start running if I were you.”
I nod once, stiffly, and turn on shaky legs, taking off down the hallway. My bare feet slap against the cold, wooden floors as I race through the corridor, clutching the comforter tightly. The heavy fabric drags behind me, cumbersome, but I can’t bring myself to let it go.
Not yet, at least.
Maybe not ever.
Five minutes.
Don’t panic.
Five minutes.
Oh, God?—
Lightning blinds me with its sudden brightness, and I cover my mouth to stifle a scream as thunder shakes the manor.
Why is it always storming?
The sound of walls shifting spurs me to sprint for the room that just appeared. It looks like a butler’s pantry, with an entire wall of lower cabinets and upper shelves. I think I might fit in one of the cabinets. Without wasting another second, I find an empty one and climb inside.
A scream tears from me as the floor of the cabinet suddenly drops out, sending me tumbling into darkness. I slide down a chute and crash into the bottom of a massive grandfather clock. Somehow, I manage to hold onto my now filthy comforter. I scramble to my feet, brushing myself off, before taking in the room I’ve landed in. The furniture is draped in white sheets, and the air is thick with dust, smelling stale and musty.
The beat of my pulse echoes like a ticking clock. I should be afraid—I am afraid—but there’s a strange thrill beneath the fear, a pulse of excitement that I can’t quite shake. The thrill of the game mixes with my dread, creating a strange, addictive sensation. A hidden darkness stirs within me, wanting to know what happens when they find me, but I push it back to the secret corner of my mind before I can think further on it.
“Sixty seconds!” one of them calls. I don’t even question how their voice carries through the halls, all the way to whatever abandoned part of the manor I’ve fallen into.
A crazed giggle slips out as my panic surges, but I push it down and quickly scan the ghostly room again. I peer under the sheets, searching for something I can hide beneath. After what feels like minutes, though it could only have been seconds, I find a desk with just enough space to tuck into. I press myself into the corner, making sure every part of me is hidden, then hold my breath.
Save for the faint creak of floorboards in the distance, the manor falls silent—no clicking or heavy dragging sounds from the shifting walls—as if it’s fallen asleep, offering no resistance to its masters. My pulse thunders in my ears as I strain to listen, every sound amplified by the suffocating stillness. It always amazes me how loud silence can be.
A voice echoes from somewhere in the house, smooth and taunting. “Ready or not, little thief… here we come.”
The hunt’s begun.