by Stella Hart
It was hard to believe that was actually my real plan once upon a time, back when I truly despised Tatum. Now, the thought of destroying her made me feel slightly ill.
I expected my father to look impressed, but instead he stared over at me with a disbelieving expression. “That’s not what she told me. I asked her last night, and she said she needed the collar altered because it didn’t fit.”
Fuck. As usual, he was one step ahead of me.
I couldn’t blame Tatum for telling the lie. She probably thought she was defending me. It was actually quite sweet.
“That’s where I got the idea,” I said, smoothly skating over the giant hole in my story. “It didn’t fit when I tried to put it on her, and I told her I’d get it fixed. She looked so grateful and happy to not have to wear it yet. It made me realize once and for all how much better it would be to destroy her if she was in love with me.”
Dad was silent for a moment. Then his lips curled up in a smile. He reached over and patted me on the back. “Couldn’t have thought of a better plan myself,” he said. “You really do take after me, don’t you?”
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He believed me.
He paused, then went on. “To be frank, I’ve had my doubts on occasion, but I suppose I always knew on some level that you have what it takes.”
“For what?”
His smile grew wider. “Your twenty-fourth birthday is coming up soon. Normally you wouldn’t be considered for the third level till after the date, but the council has decided to start the vetting process a bit earlier. That way, if you make it through, you’ll reach it on the day of your birthday, rather than a few weeks afterwards. That’d be something to celebrate, wouldn’t it?”
My eyes widened. I wasn’t expecting to hear that. “Shit, really?”
He smirked. “There are a few benefits to having a father on the council.”
“You’re not just on the council. You’re the fucking president,” I said with a snort. “And I thought you said you couldn’t give me any special consideration just because I’m your son.”
“Of course I said that. Had to keep you on your toes, didn’t I?” he said. “Couldn’t have you thinking you were a shoo-in and doing nothing to earn your place.”
“Right.” I pressed my lips into a thin line. I should’ve known he was screwing with me.
“This is a good lesson for you. Corruption and nepotism is everywhere in our world, even in places that claim to be above it.”
I scowled. “So that’s the only reason I was chosen for consideration?” I asked. “Because I’m a King?”
Dad shook his head and chuckled. “No, of course not. There are many other factors that go into the decision to start vetting someone for third-level status. But we’ve been watching you these last few months, and you’ve passed all our tests. So your first interview with the council is later this afternoon. That’s the real reason I invited you out here today.”
I gaped at him. “Today?”
He glanced at his watch. “Yes. In forty minutes, to be precise. We better get moving.”
We trudged away from the private shooting range, back toward the mansion.
“You know your way around the Catacombs, right?” he asked as we stepped inside.
I nodded. Underneath the main Lodge building was a vast subterranean maze of tunnels, chambers and waterways. I wasn’t sure why it was originally built—the most common rumor was that it had something to do with Prohibition back in the 1920’s—but it was nicknamed the Catacombs due to its dark labyrinthine passageways and general creepiness.
I’d been exploring the place since I was young, so I knew my way around every passage and secret entrance like the back of my hand.
“You know the small chamber right beneath the central courtyard?” Dad asked, raising a brow. “The one with the carvings all over the walls.”
“Yeah.”
“Make your way there in twenty minutes. You have to be alone, and you must be wearing your second-level robes. If you didn’t bring them, then have a maid fetch you a spare set from upstairs. You can use a flashlight to navigate your way through the tunnels, but you need to turn it off before you enter the chamber.”
He briskly headed away, presumably to make his way to the chamber with the rest of the council before my arrival.
My pulse raced with excitement and anticipation as I retrieved my robes and then headed for the main kitchen on the ground floor. The closest Catacombs entrance was in the back of one of the many storage cupboards in there.
I pushed aside some boxes to reveal the weathered brick arch at the mouth of the entrance. Once I was inside, the light died like it had been swallowed. I used the flashlight on my cell phone to make my way down the twisting black tunnel.
It smelled of earth and stagnant water. Stones crunched beneath my feet as I walked. Even the lightest of breaths seemed to echo around me, and my light cast an ominous glow throughout the place. When I reached the passage that led to the chamber I was expected in, I switched it off.
I dragged my right hand across the wall, picking up dust and grime. When it gave way to a spot of cool air, I knew I was at the entrance to the chamber.
With a deep breath, I stepped inside. “I’m here,” I called out.
The chamber was steeped in darkness. A red laser pointer went on, hovering above a point about three feet ahead of me. “Sit,” said a deep, commanding voice.
I stepped forward and carefully located the chair beneath the hovering laser. I squinted, trying in vain to see the council through the gloom. I could make out thirteen chairs a few feet ahead of me, arranged in a semicircle, but I couldn’t see who occupied them. All I could make out was a jawline here, the curve of a chin there.
“Mr. King, you know why you’re here. Let’s not waste any time,” said a booming voice from somewhere on the left of the semicircle. “We have many questions for you.”
The first thing I was asked to do was to list my personal sexual preferences. Every single one of them. After that, I was required to reveal my entire sexual history in chronological order and discuss what I considered my peak moments. Then I was asked to discuss every single reward and punishment I’d ever given to Tatum. The method, the reasoning behind it, the result.
After that, the questions moved on to more general topics of ethics and morals. Fictional scenarios were posed, and I had to say what I’d do if I were there in that instance.
I had a feeling I knew what they wanted to hear in regards to that. The men of the council probably weren’t interested in members who liked to abide by strong ethics. Like my father said earlier, corruption was everywhere, and given the goings-on at the parties, it seemed obvious to me that they enjoyed the company of those who shared their taste for darkness. Those who weren’t bound entirely by strict morals.
I told them exactly what I thought they wanted to hear, but I didn’t hear anything that might hint at how it was going so far. No murmurs of approval or mutters of dissatisfaction. Not a peep.
“What are your intentions with Tatum Marris?” came a sharp question from somewhere in the middle.
I hesitated. As much as I’d tried to quash my feelings for Tatum and tell myself it was just lust, I knew they were there. They were real. I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand what she’d done to me, but here we were. I felt something for the girl.
I knew that wouldn’t score me any points with the council, though. The majority of Crown and Dagger men didn’t like mushy feelings or ‘girlfriend experiences’ with women. If they wanted that, they could just go to their wife or any old brothel.
But no, that wasn’t enough. They wanted to truly own women for as long as their contracts allowed—no rights, no liberties, no voice. They viewed the girls as nothing more than objects to be paid for then used and abused until the novelty of their pussy wore off, upon which they’d be tossed aside for a new model. That much was clear from everything I’d seen over the years. Why else would they dedi
cate so much time and energy to the Lodge and the training facility? They needed things done their way, needed to ensure their darkest desires would be perfectly catered to.
“I intend to keep her as long as it takes to destroy her,” I finally replied. The deceitful words felt like acid on my tongue, but I had a feeling they would score me extra points.
“You attended your first Lodge party with her last night, but you refused to share her with anyone. You also refused to touch any of the other girls. Could you explain that?” said an icy voice from the right.
My pulse started to race. Shit. This wasn’t going as well as I thought. I needed a good reason to placate them, and I needed it fast.
“I understand that many members like to share, and that’s fine. But someone else’s sex slave is of no interest to me,” I said slowly. “If I didn’t break her or train her, she isn’t mine to use. I don’t like to take what I haven’t earned.”
There were a few murmurs of approval at that. I breathed a sigh of relief. They liked that line of thinking.
“As for why I don’t want to share Tatum,” I went on. “I have a long-term plan for her, as I was discussing with my father recently.”
“Please elaborate.”
“She can’t be owned by me in the same way you all own your girls, because she genuinely hates me. Hates the King name in general,” I began. I cleared my throat. “She had absolutely no idea she would be given to me when she sold herself to the society, and after her subsequent behavior, I quickly realized she would never submit to my ownership with the usual methods.”
“So what is your new method, then?”
I took a deep breath. “I intend to make her fall in love with me. When I finally let her discover the truth, she will be so crushed that she will become permanently broken. After that, I have a feeling she will become the most submissive sex slave this place has ever seen.”
There were more whispers and murmurs at that, louder this time. They sounded positive.
“That’s an interesting strategy to break in a slave, Elias, but I think we are all in agreement that we strongly approve,” said a crisp voice from somewhere on the left. “It’s cruel. Inventive. Truly ruthless. In her case, it might actually work better than physical methods.”
“Exactly. No amount of money or physical punishment can stop her from hating me and refusing to submit. But preying on her emotions…” I trailed off and let the words hang in the air, my point already implicit.
There was another extended pause as the men spoke amongst themselves in hushed tones.
“Elias James King,” came a booming voice from the left a few minutes later. “You have passed the first council interview. Congratulations.”
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Take your robes off and throw them on the ground in front of you.”
I did as they said, tossing the robes at my feet.
“Now step on them.”
I stamped right on them. “Done.”
“Today was only the tip of the iceberg. The easiest part.”
“I figured.”
“You will be observed over the next couple of weeks, and you will undergo many difficult trials. If you are successful in attaining third-level status, you will be brought to the council and informed on your birthday. There you will receive new black robes to mark your advancement, and you will become privy to all our secrets. If, however, we deem you unworthy, your old robes will be returned to you, still soiled to signify your failure. You will remain at the second level, and you will never again be considered for the third level.”
Brutal.
“Got it,” I said.
“You must be aware that if you pass the trials, the only way out of the third level is in a coffin. Once you are in, it’s for life.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing they wouldn’t see in the gloom. I knew for a fact that shit about leaving in a coffin was all theatrics and hyperbole. Henry Davenport left the third level a couple of years ago, and he wasn’t dead.
“Sure,” I said. “I understand perfectly.”
“You may leave now.”
I didn’t reply. I simply turned on my heel and marched out, head held high, a satisfied grin quirking up my lips.
I was close now.
So close.
12
Tatum
I could hardly sleep from excitement, but I forced myself to lie in bed until eight the next morning. If this plan had even a sliver of a chance at working, I needed all the rest I could get before I tried.
Once I was awake, I headed down the hall to the east wing dining room and served myself a heaping plate of food: scrambled eggs, toast, berries, oatmeal, sliced banana. I also had three cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice.
When I went to sit down, Pri joined me. All she had was a small bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar. Her eyes widened as she looked at my spread of food. “God, that’s a lot!” she said. “What are you gonna do with all that energy? Are you planning on running a marathon later?”
Sort of, I wanted to say. Instead I smiled nonchalantly. “I’m just really hungry today.”
I wished I could fill her in on the plan and take her with me, but it was too risky. For all I knew, I’d be killed if I was caught, just like all the others who’d tried to escape before me. I didn’t want to be responsible for getting Pri killed too.
I’d made my peace with the fact that I might die trying to get out of here, though. Of course I didn’t want to die, not like I did back on the island, but at the same time I had to accept that it was a possibility.
It wasn’t enough to stop me from trying.
I glanced over at a condiments tray by the wall. “Could you please pass me some salt and pepper?” I asked. Pri was closer than me.
She nodded and passed me two little sachets of each. I made a big show of using all the salt and one of the pepper sachets, and when she was distracted with a big mouthful of oatmeal, I slipped the second pepper sachet into my pocket.
Afterwards, Pri and I headed to our usual gym down the hall. We were expected to work out between nine and ten, but I didn’t do anything. I needed to conserve my energy. I loitered around the weight machines instead, occasionally pretending to be setting something up whenever someone walked past, and when Pri questioned me, I told her I was still way too full from breakfast to exercise.
When our session was over, I headed back to my room and into my little writing nook. I got out a notebook and pretended to write (in case anyone was watching me on the surveillance cameras) and then I opened up the pepper sachet on the blank pages before me.
Using two fingers, I scooped up some of the pepper and rubbed it right in my eyes.
“Oh, shit...” I grimaced and drew in a sharp breath before gritting my teeth to stop myself from screaming as my eyes began to water. I knew the pepper would sting a lot, but it was even worse than I expected. It felt like someone had taken a blowtorch to my eyeballs.
When the worst of the pain was over, I stumbled into the bathroom and washed my hands and face. It took a few minutes, but I was finally able to open my eyes all the way up again, and when I looked in the mirror, I saw that the whites were now bright red. Just as I expected.
I headed out into the hallway and followed it down to the end. Mellie had her own room here, and I’d recently discovered its location.
I knocked frantically on her door.
“What is it?” I heard her say from the other side, a sour note in her voice. She swung the door open, hands on her hips and a surly expression on her bare face. I’d never seen her without makeup before. She looked so similar to me without it that we could probably pass for sisters. “Jesus, what happened to your eyes?”
I arranged my face into a distressed expression and pretended to sniff loudly. “Elias had flowers delivered to me yesterday. I must be allergic to them. I leaned down to smell them about half an hour ago, and my eyes suddenly went itchy and red. My nose is running too.
”
“Right. What do you want me to do about it?”
“Can you take me to one of the medical wings and get me some anti-allergy meds? Isn’t that part of your job now; to help the girls with stuff?”
She rolled her eyes. “Can’t you just get rid of the flowers? I’m sure the redness and itching will clear up as soon as you do,” she said before stifling a yawn. She was still in pajamas. I must’ve woken her up.
“No. He’ll be mad if I throw away a gift from him. And besides, he’s coming to see me tonight. I can’t look like this,” I said, motioning to my red eyes. “Please, Mellie, I don’t want to make him angry. You know it’s my job to please him.”
She pursed her lips, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll take you. Just give me a second.”
She went back into her room for a moment, then led me down another hall and slipped a keycard into an electronic lock. The door swung open to reveal a small room with shelves and drawers lining the white walls.
Mellie dug around in a few of the drawers before returning to me with a box of Benadryl and a little bottle of eye drops.
She handed me the bottle as she read the back of the box. “Okay, take one of these now,” she said, pushing out the foil packet and removing four tablets. “Another at lunch, and then two more before bed. Don’t take them all at once or it’ll knock you out for hours. You don’t want that if Elias is expecting to see you tonight. Oh, and use the eye drops for the redness.”
“Thanks.”
I went back to my room and headed into my writing nook again. Using another notebook as a cover, I crushed the four tablets into a fine powder with the end of a pen. Then I left it sitting there, covered by a folded piece of paper.
Elias showed up for dinner earlier than expected. I was still in gym clothes, but that was fine. It actually suited my plan.