Kraven is suddenly on his feet, watching every step she takes. Only when she’s seated herself at the opposite end of the table does he lower himself back down into his chair.
“That dress you’re wearing…” Kraven says to Annabelle. Her eyes rise, meeting his stare. “It’s quite expensive.”
Annabelle makes a face. “Don’t worry, I’ll give it back. You’re the one who wanted to have this ridiculous dinner.”
We all turn and look at Kraven because this here is entertainment at its finest.
He opens his mouth to respond, but just then three girls close to our age enter the room with silver trays. They lay down white dishes filled with lobster bisque that looks so good, my stomach aches. Next comes a spinach salad with raspberry-walnut vinaigrette. And then the main course: stuffed prawns, garlic rice pilaf, and roasted asparagus sprinkled with goat cheese and sautéed grape tomatoes.
As we eat, Valery forces conversation. We do our best to join in, but mostly we watch Kraven and Annabelle to see if they’ll talk some more trash. Every once in a while, someone brings something up that’s an obvious attempt to make them argue. It’s sad, really, because we like Annabelle, but we’re stir-crazy, and this is the most fun we’ve had all day. Plus, Kraven seems to be on better behavior tonight, so no harm done.
A man who’s dressed like an old-fashioned butler clears our dinner plates and chauffeurs in miniature dishes that look like dessert. What I want to know is where they’re hiding the cooks. Because I’d like to human traffic them to Peachville, assuming we ever make it back there.
As an older woman sets a fresh plate in front of me, something catches my eye. It’s Kraven, rising from his seat like if he moves too suddenly, his chair will explode. At first I assume Annabelle has done something heinous, like used the wrong utensil for her spiced-chocolate tart.
But it’s not that at all.
It’s men—three of them—snaking into the room with blades in their hands.
27
Spy
Valery springs into action, rounding the table and grabbing Charlie. She pushes her away from the men, using her body as a shield. Kraven lunges toward Aspen and does the same. Even Max has come alive, snatching Annabelle from harm’s way. The house staff scurries from the room on mouse feet.
Then it’s just me and Blue.
My pulse pounds so hard in my head that my hearing dulls. With as warped as this house is, how did they find their way in? One of the guys with a shaved head tosses his knife to his other hand and moves closer. That isn’t what scares me, though. It’s that his eyes are locked on Charlie. When I realize what he’s come for, and that this guy is a siren, I lose my mind with rage.
This place is supposed to be safe. But it’s not. Valery said it herself, no matter where we built, they would find it. Well, I’d done enough running. These dudes are human.
And I’m immortal.
Born Dante Walker, reborn a demon—
Today a liberator who’s about to put these guys down.
Lunging toward him, I keep my hands up, protecting my eyes. Then I land a solid blow into the guy’s arm that holds the knife. He nearly loses it, but not quite. I’m about to go in for another hit when dizziness overtakes me. Then I’m looking up from the ground.
There are three of them, I remember.
Behind me, I can hear Charlie’s voice. My head is still foggy, so it sounds like she’s screaming from behind a closed window. But remembering she’s here drives me to regain my composure, and before I’m knocked out a second time, I slide to the right. Then I throw my fist into a siren’s ribs and hear a dull crack. From the corner of my eye, I notice Valery shoving the girls through a doorway, leading them somewhere safe. Max flanks behind her, alert and at the ready. Seeing Max reminds me I only have to fight the sirens off long enough until Max or Red—or hell, maybe even Aspen—can return to help.
I land a strong kick into the next guy’s knee, and he drops to the floor. Then I spin on the other siren and attempt to throw my fist into his gut. I don’t make the connection, though, because the siren I kicked is already up, and now he’s got his arms under mine, restraining me. Where’s Blue when I need him? A quick glance tells me the answer. He’s busy defending himself against the third siren.
Defending.
In a flash, I remember what Kraven taught us. On instinct, I’d been using some defense. I had to. But I hadn’t thought to apply the new tactics I’d learned.
Now I do.
The siren behind me restrains my arms, but I still have access to other body parts, starting with my foot. I slam my heel back into the siren’s knee and then bring it down on his shoe. He groans and loosens his grip. As soon as he does, I collapse to the ground in a heap. He doesn’t expect this, so he stumbles and falls with me. His arms pull away, and I jump to my feet. But I’m only free a few seconds before the second siren goes for my throat. I deflect his hands and pull a Charlie, kicking him straight in the junk. He stops reaching for my throat, instead cupping his manhood and crumbling to the floor.
But now the guy behind me is up again. He heads toward Blue like he’s done with our fight. I’m about to stop his advance when Bruised Balls grabs me again. Now Blue is stuck defending himself against two sirens.
As I deflect an attack from Bruised Balls, something causes me to pause.
Where is Kraven?
We’ve only been fighting the sirens for a few seconds, but he should have been here. A thought fires through my mind. I shuffle back from the siren who faces me and hold up my hand. He hesitates, his brow creased with confusion. Glancing at Blue, I notice the two sirens take turns attacking and restraining him. But neither inflicts much damage to the liberator.
“Stop,” I say.
Bruised Balls sneers and circles closer, like he’s not about to listen.
“No, really. All of you can just stop. I get it,” I say. “This is our test.”
The sirens stop and look toward the back of the room. Kraven stands watching, his arms crossed over his chest. I expect him to start clapping or some crap. But he doesn’t. He just opens his mouth and says, “Thank you for your assistance, liberators.”
The sirens—err, liberators—slap one another on the back and head toward the dining table, laughing like old friends. They pick over our dessert as Charlie, Aspen, and Annabelle burst into the room. Charlie’s eyes are wide and frantic, as if she’s expecting a bloodbath.
She rushes toward me and lifts her hands to my face. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I pull away because I’m angry, though not with her. I should have sensed the liberators’ cuffs when they entered the room. I should have been paying attention. But that’s the loophole with the cuffs. We can sense them, but only by concentrating all the time. It’s a bit like listening for a bird outside your window in the middle of the night; at some point you get tired and fall sleep. “What happened is this was a test to see if we’d mastered the self-defense sector.”
“The hell?” Annabelle says. “That’s a pretty shoddy tactic.”
I’m certain her words are targeted toward Kraven, but that’s not who responds. Instead, one of the liberators in disguise turns around. “Damn, Kraven. No wonder you’ve got the human without a cause hidden away. Girl’s hot. I’d like to get my hands—”
“Enough!” Kraven yells.
We all stop and stare at Kraven, who I somehow doubt has ever shouted. Not like this. He seems to realize his mistake, but it doesn’t stop him from glaring at the liberator who wants himself a piece of Annabelle. Kraven’s face is so red, it rivals the severity of Anna’s dress. He looks away from the liberator and toward Annabelle. Then he strides from the room.
Annabelle’s breath rushes out in a gasp right as Valery and Max reappear.
“Oh, it’s over?” Valery says.
“You knew this was a test?” Aspen accuses.
Red waves her hand. “’Course.”
Max stares at her in awe. “You amaze me, woman.
I’m not sure whether to be impressed or afraid of how good you are at keeping secrets. Maybe just turned on.” He tries to grab for Valery, and a smile plays on her lips.
One of the liberators, the dude with the shaved head, licks his fingers, says something to a guy across the table, and heads in the same direction Kraven went.
I pull Charlie close and whisper in her ear. “I’m going to ask how I did. Will you distract them?”
She nods and whirls in a circle. “Valery. I don’t…I don’t feel so—”
She slumps to the ground. I have to march away before my grin blows her story.
Her fainting spell does the trick. Valery and everyone else in the room rushes over to see what’s wrong with Trelvator Girl. As for me, I slip across the room and spill into a wide hallway. Moving like a ghost, I catch up with Kraven and the liberator who followed him.
What I told Charlie was the truth; I want to know how Blue and I did. Especially after he threatened that my cuff was on the line, not that he’d have a prayer of taking it from me. But I also want to know if I can find out anything new. Like why Big Guy has decided we need a training pad, besides the obvious threat of collectors and sirens. But why train us to fight instead of training us how to recapture Charlie’s soul? Valery insinuated they’d help teach me how to descend into hell. But thinking back on our conversation at the graveyard, I remember she actually said, “They’ll help you.”
But help me do what?
Red said the collectors and sirens could find us anywhere, so why not go on the offense immediately? What are we buying time for? I know how she’d answer that question: to train you so you’re better prepared to face them. But with the number of secrets floating around, I want to be sure that’s all there is to it.
I take a few more steps toward the pair of liberators and listen. Right away, I recognize Kraven’s smooth, calm voice in comparison to the other guy, who speaks much quicker.
“It’s not safe yet,” Kraven says.
“But the guys are getting restless,” the other dude replies. His voice has a slight accent to it, like any second he’s going to suggest we throw another shrimp on the barbie. “We’ve been locked up in here for three weeks. We’ve completed training. Just give us a few hours to go outside and try them out.”
“Are you so eager to leave your post?” Kraven says. “Have you forgotten the commitment you made? I gave you a choice. I gave you all a choice. And you chose protection.”
The Aussie dude groans. “Wasn’t much of a choice when the alternative was to become a mute house slave.”
“But it was a choice. And they’ve only agreed to stay quiet until the words on the scroll reveal themselves.”
The guy doesn’t respond right away, giving me time to mull over what’s been said. The liberators who pretended they were sirens…they’re here to be protectors, probably for Charlie. And I guess the two women liberators chose to help around the estate instead. I wonder why.
“Listen, Neco. We have to remember what else we’re harboring here.”
The other liberator, Neco, raises his voice. “I know. That damn scroll. You only remind us every day. A lot of good it does anyone.”
“You have to believe,” Kraven replies.
“Believe what? That the words are going to magically appear? It wasn’t meant for us. I don’t know why God even gave it to you. Probably just to mess with our heads.”
“Watch your tongue,” Kraven says, his voice deepening.
Neco hesitates. “Can you at least tell me whether they’re still out there?”
“Of course they are. They haven’t gone anywhere.” Kraven sighs. “They’ve set up on the side of the cliff as if we don’t know they’re there.”
“Just another reason we should leave. Draw them out, fight them before they have a chance to attack.”
I don’t hear anything else. I’m already storming back toward Charlie. They are out there. Kraven admitted as much. Sure, Valery warned us it could happen. But there’s a difference between saying they might know we’re here, and that they’re actually parked outside.
My mind spins as I move faster. Who exactly are they? Are there sirens out there, hidden among the cliff face? Or are they collectors?
Where is Rector?
The last thought needles into my chest until I can hardly breathe. When I make it to the great room, everyone is gone. Maybe they took fainting Charlie back to her room. Good. I can talk to her in private there. But what will I say? I hate keeping secrets from her, and I remember the promise I made after the night she was taken, that I would never lie to her again. But my plan is to steal Charlie’s soul back. And she’ll never agree to that. She’ll insist I’m trading my life for hers.
And that’s exactly what I will do if I must.
But not tonight.
Tonight I’m finding that blasted scroll.
28
The Scroll
Later that night—after we’ve all discussed the test ad nauseum and then slunk off to bed—I prepare myself to sneak out.
Charlie is asleep next to me, her bottom lip working like she’s having a conversation with herself. I want to lean down and kiss that chubby lip, but I know it’ll wake her. And then I’ll want to kiss other areas on her body, too.
So instead, I slip out from beneath the covers and pull on jeans and a T-shirt. The lounge area is vacant when I step through our doorway, and so is the hallway outside it. We don’t have a clock in our part of the house, and my phone is dearly departed, so I’m not sure what time it is, but it feels like just after midnight.
All the hallways look different from one another, which helps me to remember which ones I’ve already been down. But it does nothing to tell me where this scroll is. For all I know, it could be in Kraven’s bedroom, beneath his pillow.
Wouldn’t that be lovely?
Still, I have to take the chance that I can find this thing. From what I understand, there are no words on it. But something tells me I have to try. The sirens are going after Charlie and Aspen, and this is the only clue I have that may provide me answers to protect them both.
After what feels like two hours of creeping through the warped mansion and dodging staff members who soundlessly patrol the area, I’m no closer to finding the scroll. But I have decided this would be a nice place to hide a body, or maybe do a haunted house. It’s creepy as shit in here.
I stop and lean against a wall, thinking. Roaming around the place isn’t helping. This is something I’m going to have to puzzle through to get anywhere. So I ask myself, what is the safest room in the house?
My first response is to say with Kraven. That’s what he’d say. But if the place was designed specifically to protect those inside it, wouldn’t the middle be safest?
That’s tornado speak.
And it leads me directly to my target, the great room.
Adrenaline courses through me as I kick off the wall. I pass through seven rooms and travel down four hallways before I make it there. Once I’ve arrived, I do the only thing I can think of: I scour the place. I look everywhere for a hiding spot, including beneath the long dining table, but don’t find anything.
When I’ve all but given up, and I’m about to cave into the temptation to rejoin Charlie in bed, I gaze up. The rafters are empty. But then I remember that when Valery brought us into the Hive for the first time, we ascended a flight of stairs, which means there’s a level beneath this one. I sweep my eyes across the floor.
I see something.
It’s just a square of wood that’s grain doesn’t match the rest, but I’ll take it. Kneeling down near the spot, skull belt buckle digging into my stomach, I run my fingers along the edges until I find a place to slip a nail under. The board moves a centimeter. An inch.
And then it’s gliding open, far enough so that I can peer inside. There’s a light down there, but I can’t make out anything else. As a chill runs over my body, I lower myself into the basement-type area. I drop to the floor with an e
choing thud and then pull myself upright.
The area isn’t big, maybe fifteen feet by fifteen feet. Hardwood floors cover the ground, just like in the great room. And all along the perimeter is warped wallpaper that doesn’t match—orange and yellow flowers along one side, and damask on another. A single light buzzes overhead, shining down on a small black box.
I approach the box slowly, holding my breath. My heart jackhammers in my chest because even though I’m a big dude who’s fought his fair share of demons, I don’t particularly enjoy being trapped like this.
I focus on Charlie. I think about how she probably looks in bed right now, a little bowling ball on the edge of the mattress, making room for my long limbs. I bet she’s talking to herself extra hard right now.
The thought brings a smile to my face as I come to stand in front of the box. The box that isn’t underground. Because I’m not underground.
“What are you hiding?” I ask it as I squat down.
I slide my hands along the edges, searching for a way to open it. Disappointment eats away at me when I find a keyhole near the back. Of course it’d be protected by a lock. But I’m not about to leave without searching the area. When I don’t find the key after twenty minutes, I move to Plan B.
Holding the box in one hand, I hurl it at the wall.
It shatters open.
“Damn straight,” I tell it in a whisper, even though I’m not sure why I’m whispering, because if I was going to wake someone up, it’s already done.
I scramble forward and then freeze. Beneath the box’s carcass is a sheet of gold paper curled into a tight roll. I lick my lips, imagine what I’ll do if it doesn’t reveal anything—I’ve already broken everything there is to break—and then reach down to grab it.
It unfolds easily. At first I don’t see anything. It’s blank, just like I knew it’d be.
But then I turn it over.
There are words. But only a few of them.