“Don’t try to be a hero,” L says from his spot across the room, the shadows casting a mask of midnight across his face. Yet somehow, it just makes those moonlight eyes seem brighter. As if they actually glowed—thrived—in the darkness. As if they were carved of darkness itself.
He knows. He knows everything. This is no ordinary man. He’s a killer, trained to destroy anything that stands in his path. Trained to destroy me.
Heeding his warning, I press a button. Then another and another. I won’t let him win. He wants me to defy him, if only to have an excuse to kill me. I won’t give him what he wants. Not yet.
“Sister?”
“Oh my God…Eden?” Her voice is heavy with sleep, but she quickly perks up. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for days. It’s all over the news—the fire at the store. I was scared out of my mind! I thought…I thought… It’s been 72 hours since anyone has seen or heard from you.”
72 hours. It’s been three days since I was taken. I hadn’t realized it had been that long.
A knife twists in my gut. I hate lying to her. Out of everyone—out of all the people I’ve pushed away, all the relationships I’ve tarnished, all the suffering I’ve caused—she was the one person that tethered me to the last shred of my humanity. If saving her life means losing her—losing me—then I have to do it. I have to make her believe what I’ve always known: I’m not worth it.
“Yeah, I know,” I say into the receiver, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Listen…it’s not going to work out anymore…me living there. I decided to move in with Lily.”
“What?”
“Yeah. It’s better that way. For both of us. She’ll work days, I’ll work nights. We’ll hardly see each other. I just…I need to get away for a little while. I need space.”
“Eden.” Her voice breaks in two, a sound that I’d always hated hearing. She’s cried for me too many times. Tears I didn’t deserve. “Eden, I know things have been hard. I know you’ve been low lately, and I haven’t been a great big sister. I promise…I promise I’ll do better. I’ll work less. I’ll spend less time with Ben. Just please…don’t shut yourself off from the world. Don’t pretend like it doesn’t bother you—like it doesn’t hurt you—because you think being alone is easier than being forgotten.”
Forgotten.
That was the word CPS used when they found me. When they finally followed up on our case. They knew I was at risk. They knew my mother was sick, but they had forgotten. By the time they got around to us, I was no more than skin and bones, bruised and scarred from countless instances of my mother trying to “beat the devil out of me.” They knew she’d kill me; she had already tried years before. She said she was trying to baptize me in the bathtub. Trying to cleanse my soul of the evil festering inside. She held me down long enough that my fragile five-year-old body had given up. Had stopped kicking and thrashing and clawing for help. I should have died that day, but I didn’t. I wish I had, if only to spare Sister this pain.
I look over at L, whose silver eyes watch me like a lethal viper. I wonder if he can see the fractured pieces of me falling to the floor, scattering like ash in the wind. The tattoos, the piercings, the hair…they served as my armor. But something about his penetrating stare told me that he could see right through it all. Right through to my cold, hollow chest.
“It’s not you, Sister. I just need…” Time. Space. Quiet from the whispers in my head.
“You don’t have to do this,” she whispers. “You don’t have to be alone.”
I know that I’m supposed to lie, but my tongue is coated in truth. Every word I speak is excruciatingly sincere. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
She’s sobbing, so I pull the phone away from my ear, refusing to hear it. Don’t cry for me, Sister. It’ll be ok. Just let me go.
Let me go.
“This isn’t like last time, is it?” I hear her say when I finally find the strength to place the phone to my ear.
“No, it’s not.” Or the time before that. Or the time before that.
“Just…just take care of yourself. And remember…remember that I love you. Someone loves you, Eden. And I won’t give up on you. I won’t forget you.”
I hang up before she can say any more and toss the phone across the bed. I don’t say goodbye. I don’t tell her that I love her too. It doesn’t matter anymore.
You won’t be back.
I believe him.
L stands and makes his way over to the bed to retrieve the cell phone. I’m either too numb or too stupid to recoil.
“Lily will be back in with food and water,” he says flatly. I don’t know why they bother. Why keep me alive only to kill me? Maybe the next time they drug my food, it’ll be my last meal.
I remain still, frozen in my own selfish pain. But I don’t crack. I won’t let him see what he’s done to me.
“Why do you call her that?”
I think I hear him but I can’t be sure. I look up with glazed eyes.
“Why do you call her Sister?” he asks, his expression blank, save for the slight furrow of his brow. I can’t tell if he’s being condescending or sincere. I don’t even care.
“When I was placed in foster care, she was there. Since she was older, she looked out for me. Taught me how to tie my shoes. Braided my hair. I had always wanted a sister, so she said she would be mine. She raised me. She…loved me…when no one else did. I thought she was my guardian angel.”
L looks down at me, a deep frown dented between those starlit eyes, before turning to stalk out of the room. He pauses at the doorframe just before exiting.
“Maybe she was.”
I try to feign disinterest when Lily enters with a fresh tray of food, the billowing tendrils of steam emitting mouthwatering aromas of spices and melted butter.
“You expect me to eat that? After you poisoned me?” I eye the food suspiciously, hating the hunger pangs stabbing me from within my belly.
“Drugged, not poisoned. Although Cain wouldn’t object to the latter.” She heaves out a breath and rolls her eyes. “It’s safe. See?”
I watch with envious eyes as Lily picks up a crisp, buttery green bean and takes a bite.
“And how am I supposed to eat this?” Roasted chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, steamed veggies and a dinner roll. It looks delicious as if someone took great care in preparing it. However, they’ve only provided me with a fork, no knife to cut the quarter piece of chicken.
Lily unsheathes a blade from behind her back, one of the very same daggers she used on the Russian back at the store…three days ago. With a swift maneuver, she sinks it into the flesh of the chicken. It cuts right through to the plate without hardly any effort, sawing through meat and bone as if they were cotton candy. I gulp loudly.
“There,” she smiles smugly. She grabs my linen napkin to clean the four and a half inch blade and swiftly secures it behind her back. As if I’d ever be so bold as to try to swipe it. “Eat.”
I look down at the food, imagining phantom splotches of blood tainting the meat. I pick up the bread in a compromise, forcing it down my sore, bruised throat.
“So…is it true?” she asks, watching me intently as I pick up my fork to stab a butter-glazed green bean.
“Is what true?”
“About…Adriel?”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know who Adriel is. Your friend, L, is a raging lunatic. I told him a million times that I have no idea who or what he’s talking about.” I let my fork clang to the plate and turn to look at her, not even bothering to hide my rage. “Seriously, you guys are all fucking nuts. You’re holding the wrong person hostage yet you won’t let me go. What the hell do you want? Money? I told you, I don’t have any. No one has any. You’re wasting your fucking time.”
“We’re not holding you hostage,” Lily replies stonily. “We’re trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” I bark out a sardonic laugh. “By drugging me? Assaulting me? My life was fine before you and your mer
ry band of ingrates showed up and locked me in here.”
Lily raises a haughty brow. “Was it?”
No. It wasn’t.
I shake my head, refusing to give her the satisfaction of my unease. “This is only going to get worse. The longer you hold me, the harder it will be for you. You know that. So if you want to spare your friends from getting butt raped in prison, you should just let me go.”
Lily smiles emphatically. “You know that won’t happen. And I wouldn’t let L hear you say that if I were you.”
I push the tray of food away from my lap, too incensed by the sound of his name to take another bite. “L? Why do I give a shit about what he thinks? I’m not afraid of him. I’m not afraid of any of you.”
“You should be,” she snorts.
I cross my arms in front of my chest like a petulant child. “Who is he anyway? Why do you let him make the rules around here?”
Lily sighs and gingerly leans back on the bed, as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. As if a blade the size of my arm isn’t jammed in her back.
“L is…he is our leader of sorts. He started all this. He brought us together. He made us believe that there was something greater…much bigger than what we were told. He gave us hope.”
I blanch, the foul taste of disgust invading my mouth. “And killing innocent people is hope?”
“When it serves the greater good—yes. We don’t kill because we want to, Eden. We kill because we have to. We we’re called to.”
“And somehow, you were called to kill me.” It’s not a question.
“Initially, yes.”
I can feel the blood leach from my cheeks. “But now?”
“Now…” Eyes trained on the ceiling, she nonchalantly drums her pink painted fingers on top of her flat belly. “Now, we’re called for something else. Something that we weren’t prepared for.”
I lean forward just a fraction. She’s talking, telling me things that may aid in my escape. “And what exactly are you all?”
Fast—too fast—she turns her head to me, those blue eyes growing brighter than I’ve ever seen. A smile etched in malice spreads across her lips. “We’re called the Se7en. We sin so that your kind may find salvation.”
“My kind?” A dozen different images flash through my head. The horrified confusion on my face only seems to spur her on.
“The world is a wicked, wicked place, Eden. Full of evils that cannot be seen. But you already know that.”
I struggle to swallow my trepidation. “What are you?” I ask again.
“Something…” she redirects her gaze to the ceiling as I hang on to every rasp of her breath, every blink of her haunting eyes.
Say decent. Say kind.
Say human.
“Something different.”
“Different as in…?” Part of me doesn’t want to know. Part of me needs to know.
Without warning, Lily sits up in one swift, lithe movement. She’s not even trying to pretend anymore. She grins at the obvious shock written on my face.
“I’ll let L tell you. You’re his now.”
“What… His?” I stammer. But before I can get an answer, she takes the tray at my crossed knees and turns to leave. When she opens the door, I nearly leap out of my skin.
He stands as if he is made of stone—unbreakable, impenetrable. Forged of the earth and elements, yet he moves in shadow. Darkness molds to his daunting frame, sweeping over broad shoulders, chiseled arms, a taut chest. Silver eyes take me in, studying the rise and fall of every one of my breaths. Contemplating my fragile mortality. I wrap my arms around my knees, hoping it will block him from seeing my heart beating out of my chest.
“Goodnight,” Lily coos amusingly, brushing past him. I had forgotten she was there.
He enters the room and closes the door behind him, commanding the enclosed space with his massive presence. Every step towards me is a breath stolen. I don’t know what to do. What to say. This man…this monster…brutalized me. Cursed me. Threatened to kill me. He’s an animal waiting to strike, and considering the wicked gleam in his gaze, I am his favorite type of prey.
He walks over to the dresser and retrieves a bundle of clothing, and without a word, enters the en suite bathroom. As soon as I hear the water running, I bound from the bed, my limbs trembling uncontrollably.
What is he doing here? What does he want from me? The thought of him naked and wet just feet away disgusts me. So arrogant, certain that he has me under his hold. I try the door. Of course, it’s locked. With trembling fingers, I pat the front of my pants, feeling the metal tines of the fork under my waistband. Lily was too busy being smug that she didn’t even notice when she retrieved the tray. Since I can’t penetrate his mind and make him let me go, I’ll have to fight my way out of here. I need to be smart. Gain his trust. Make him think I’ll cooperate. He has to have a weakness. Maybe this Adriel is it. Now to find out who and what Adriel is and use it against him.
I suck in a breath when I hear the water shut off. I have to keep my wits about me. If I’m going to live long enough to get the hell out of here, I can’t risk stupid mistakes.
The door opens, sending billowing clouds of steam into the bedroom. L walks out in nothing more than black sweatpants, his golden, ink-adorned skin slick with rogue droplets of water. A small, white towel straddles his neck, grazing the dark, wet hair curling at his nape. Bare feet pad across the room to the bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask, clamping down on the quiver in my voice.
“Going to bed.”
“Here?” I screech.
“Yes. And you should too. Tomorrow, we begin.”
“Begin what?”
He doesn’t answer. He simply lifts the comforter and slides his muscled, half naked frame inside the sheets. Sheets that I’ve slept on, cried on. Sheets that smell of clean cotton, winter rain and fragrant smoke.
“And where exactly do you expect me to sleep?”
He heaves out a heavy sigh of annoyance. “Where ever you want to, Eden.”
My heart tumbles at the sound of my name brushing his lips, slipping across his tongue. There’s no way I can sleep with him in this room, let alone in this bed.
With more force than necessary, I snatch a pillow and toss it into the corner farthest away from him. He wants to be an asshole and make me even more uncomfortable, fine. I won’t beg him for any favors.
“You don’t have to do that,” he grits, his jaw tight.
“I’d rather sleep on the hard floor than be anywhere near you,” I spit back.
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
He reaches across the bed, across the space he had left for me, and turns out the light. I hear him sigh, releasing his tension into the charged air. Begrudgingly, I lay back onto the pillow, the cold ground biting into my back through the knit fabric of my sweater.
Minutes tick by, but my eyes stay wide, alert. I listen to his breathing, waiting for it to grow heavy with exhaustion. Maybe I should have taken him up on his offer. It would have been easier to jab the fork into his jugular as soon as he drifted off to sleep.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly, the words echoing in the enveloping darkness.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. For hurting you. At the store and…here.” I don’t miss the sharp edge on the word “sorry” as if he’s not used to saying it. Or hearing it.
“It’s fine,” I lie.
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have…” I can’t see him from my spot on the floor, but I imagine his brows pulling together in frustration. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s easy to forget myself. The draw is…overwhelming at times.”
I roll my eyes. The guy is off his fucking rocker. He’s a killer. Why does a morally corrupt monster like him even care?
“I just wanted you to know,” he says, answering my silent question. “That…I’m sorry.”
I don’t dignify his bullshit apology with a response. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness.
&n
bsp; I clutch the cold serrated steel in my palms, feeling the bite of the tines against my sensitive skin. It’s delightfully sharp. Sharp enough to turn flesh and bone into melted butter. Wetness pools between my thighs at the thought of the impending violence. The sound of stubborn tendon being ripped to shreds. The warmth of fresh blood gurgling over my hands. The sight of the light fading out of their eyes, their faces left frozen and pale.
He’ll be so pleased. So happy at what I’ve done for him.
In reward, he’ll fuck me amidst the corpses as they watch with dead, horrified gazes. I’ll worship at the altar of his thick length, singing his praises as he pounds me into submission. He’ll paint runes of blood across my naked belly, my nipples, my ass, between my thighs.
But first, I’ll make them scream so loudly that their lips split at the seams. I’ll make them choke on spit and bile as I slice them open and spill their insides. I’ll do it slow, so slow that they’ll beg for death. So slow that they’ll witness it up until the very last second.
He’ll be so proud of me.
My Lord.
My Master.
I thrash to consciousness surrounded by heat. An ear-splitting, animal-like screech pierces the night, ripping it wide open into a black expanse full of silver stars. No, not stars. Eyes. And there is no animal being slaughtered. The screaming is coming from me.
“Shhhhh,” L whispers, holding me tight to his bare chest. “It’s ok. You’re ok. It was just a dream.”
He’s cradling me, blocking me from the terrors manifested in my mind. Whispering gentle words of comfort into hair matted with tears.
His scent of scorched earth and midnight jasmine envelop me, smothering the horror behind my eyelids, extinguishing my fear. It seemed so real, so vivid. I could smell the blood pooling at my feet. I could hear their desperate pleas for mercy. And I could feel him inside me, punishing me, fucking me into blissful oblivion.
“It was just a dream. It’s over. I’ve got you now.”
Lily’s words echo in my head, charging L’s proclamation with a different meaning.
You’re his now.