House of Deception: The Unrivaled Series

by Brandi Elledge

  “Don’t think for one second that he doesn’t live up to the rumors that swirl around about him. Now that we are here, in this world, we are going to live every day like it’s our last. And when it is our last day, then we will finally get to rest.”

  She threw an arm around me as we headed out my door. “You got it. Us till the end.”

  We found Geralyn in the kitchen, pounding out flour for biscuits. She ran her gaze over us both but didn’t acknowledge us until after she was done rolling out the dough. Then she pointed at Raven. “You go over to Herold and help him with desserts.”

  “I’m not a very good cook,” Raven said.

  “You will be. Hurry it up. We have an hour before supper.”

  She hitched her chin at me. “Come here. I’ll teach you how to make biscuits.”

  She stayed with me for twenty minutes, showing me how to knead the dough to perfection. Then she had me rotate over to the stew where a shy girl named Carissa showed me how to cut the celery and carrots. After we worked an hour in the kitchen, Geralyn told everyone to start plating everything to carry out into the dining room.

  Just as I was about to grab a tray, she called me and Raven over.

  “The Puppeteer runs a very tight ship. However, there have been more hybrids in the last few weeks, fleeing to this house. He hasn’t gotten a chance to sort them out and see if they are worthy enough to stay here. That said, neither one of you have to go out there, if that knowledge makes you uncomfortable.”

  Raven shrugged and grabbed a tray. I watched as she exited the kitchen.

  When I didn’t budge, Geralyn said, “You can stay here in the kitchen.”

  With a nod, I went to wash the dishes. No one would have to beg me to stay away from the unrivaled. If there was an option to avoid them, I’d gladly take it.

  After a few seconds, she followed me over to the sink. “Who taught you the mud trick?”

  Scrubbing a bowl, I answered, “A woman who lost a daughter named Lacie.”

  The frumpy woman nodded. “Which house got her?”

  “The House of Air.”

  “When you have money, power, and want for nothing, boredom is your worst enemy.” She sighed. “The world we live in is complete shit.”

  I laughed. “Yes, it is.”

  “Like I said, a new group just came in. The Puppeteer will protect you when he’s here, but I wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

  “Why do they call him the Puppeteer?”

  She wrung the soap out of a dish cloth. “If I’m right about that new group of guys who just came in, you will get to see firsthand why he has earned that name.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve worked here for twenty-nine years. I’ve seen that boy grow up. Is he dangerous? Yes. Can he be cruel? Absolutely. But he has to be those things. He wouldn’t be able to give us what he has if he didn’t show what he is capable of.”

  I couldn’t help myself from asking, “And what has he given you?”

  “A life, safety, security, and his loyalty.”

  The rest of the day went by super quickly. Instead of that calming my nerves, though, it had me on edge, just waiting for something bad to happen. I wasn’t a pessimist. Just a realist.

  Much to my dismay, the next few weeks went by seemingly well. When I left my room, I went straight to the kitchens and worked, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Geralyn allowed me to stay in the kitchens while everyone else served the food. After I was done cleaning, I came straight back to my room.

  I was eating better than I ever had. I was warm and clean, yet I had a sickening feeling that I was nothing but a golden calf that was being fattened up to be prepared later on. Until that day came, I would enjoy long, hot showers and eat my dessert.

  One morning, the Puppeteer himself had come to check on the House of Hybrids. When I reported for my breakfast shift, there he was, in the kitchen, stealing bacon from a hot plate. Geralyn hit his hand with a wooden spoon, and the Puppeteer stilled. My heart dropped, and my hand inched toward a butcher knife that was laying on a cutting board. I had just closed my hand around the handle when the Puppeteer laughed.

  Without turning around, he said, “I smell fear and ambition. Both are strong. Tell me, Geralyn: who’s behind me? It’s not our Little Thorn, is it?”

  He could have turned around. Instead, he was playing with me, like a housecat with a toy.

  Geralyn gave me a wink. “It’s one of my new favorites, and I’m not just saying that because she is holding a rather large knife, thinking that she will come to my rescue if you become unhinged, but she’s a favorite because she has the best work ethic out of anyone here.”

  He turned slowly as he popped the last piece of bacon into his mouth.

  I gnawed on my bottom lip as his blue eyes roamed over my body, assessing me for the first time, dirt-free. Then his eyes landed on the knife that I held. I forced myself to uncurl my fingers from the handle.

  He gave me a condescending look. “What were you planning on doing, Thorn? Hack at me?” He took the two steps that were necessary to reach me. Then he picked up the butcher knife and rolled his eyes. “The blade is dull.”

  From over his shoulder, Geralyn said, “It’s on my list of things to do today.”

  He sighed. “I appreciate your worry for Geralyn’s safety, but being stupid will only get you killed, and probably slowly.”

  My anger bubbled up. “I’m sorry that I didn’t have time to grab an appropriate knife to slit your throat with. Next time, I won’t make the same mistake.”

  Geralyn hooted. “She said next time. See? This is why she’s my favorite.”

  There was no anger in the Puppeteer’s eyes; just vast amusement.

  Without taking his eyes from me, he asked Geralyn, “Has she been serving?”

  Geralyn’s smile dropped. “No.”

  “Interesting hair color,” he said. “Do you know where it came from?”

  I reached up to feel the hair that I had tied behind my nape. “According to you, it was your own mother who fished me out of the river, and since you violated my mind, wouldn’t you know that I have no knowledge of my lineage?”

  Geralyn came up beside the Puppeteer.

  Without looking at her, he said, “She was better off with the mud.”

  The cook nodded. “Yeah, and I’m telling you again, I do not like that new group.”

  “How’s her friend faring?”

  Geralyn shrugged. “I told her to clean the kitchens instead of being part of the waitstaff, but she wanted to be out there.” She narrowed her eyes in disgust. “And that one doesn’t keep her eyes down. She smiles at all of them. If the newcomers have done anything inappropriate, Raven hasn’t said a word, and I don’t expect her to. She craves attention.”

  Wanting to defend my friend, I said, “Well, loving attention isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

  They both ignored me.

  “No one knows I’m back yet,” the Puppeteer said. “We might as well test the waters. Have Thorn serve today.” Geralyn started to argue, but he said, “You can’t hide her in the kitchens forever.”

  Geralyn looked distraught as she handed me a platter of bacon. “Go out this door then through the huge double doors. Take these tongs and place bacon on everyone’s plate. When it’s empty, come back for a new tray.”

  As I turned to follow orders, platter in hand, Raven came running in, tying an apron around her waist. “Sorry I’m late. I’ll stay later to make up for it.” Then she took one look at me and what I was carrying. “Why do you have a serving tray?” Then she turned to Geralyn before she noticed that the Puppeteer was in the room, too. A pretty blush flushed her cheeks as she soaked in the sight of the man who was glaring at her.

  I loved Raven, I truly did, but she needed to be more fearful of these people.

  Raven dragged her eyes over to the head chef. “Geralyn, she can’t go out there. There are some new people, and I have been mauled at every shift. They will devour her.”

  “What do
you mean, you have been mauled?” I was almost yelling at this point. “Who touched you?”

  Her brown eyes widened. “She can’t go out of there, because of that right there.”

  She faced me. “Look at you! You are ready to take off heads, and that is treason. Besides, I don’t really mind them.”

  “And let me guess,” I drawled, “they can maul us because we’re human.” I shifted the tray as I glared at the Puppeteer before I turned on my heel. “I’ve done everything I can to try to stay off you people’s radar, yet here I am. Let them try to maul me.” I went flying out the door with a bitter rage.

  As I entered the cafeteria, it became eerily quiet.

  There were five rows of long tables. I walked toward the far right one first, not bothering to make eye contact with any of them. I went behind the row and started placing two pieces of bacon on everyone’s plate. I had no trouble with the first four rows. Shockingly, most of the unrivaled thanked me. However, I was halfway down my last row when a few comments were thrown my way. A couple of guys snickered some degrading names while a younger woman called me a dirty human. I ignored them all as I continued my way down the last row.

  I was almost done when a younger man with a wide face, nonexistent chin, and beady eyes grabbed ahold of my wrist. With one jerk, he had me falling onto his lap, and the tray hit the ground with a clatter, the remaining pieces of bacon scattering everywhere.

  “Let me up,” I said between my teeth.

  “Make me.” His hot breath hit my cheek. “Perhaps we should take this back to my room.”

  He skimmed one hand up my side, and when it touched the underside of my boob, I swung my elbow back, connecting with his square face. When he didn’t let go, I then kicked his shin before wrapping my fingers around his and pulling them back. When I heard the pop and his grunt, I knew that I had broken two of his fingers.

  Before I could scramble up from him, he abruptly removed his arm from me and contorted at a weird angle. I sat there, still on his lap, stunned. I hadn’t done that.

  Sliding from him, I jumped to my feet and backed away until I almost bumped into the unrivaled in the row behind me, watching as the man’s head bounced off the table and into his plate several times before he was thrown against the wall. Held there with his feet dangling inches above the floor, I watched as his fingernails, one by one, went flying into the air. Bile rose to my throat, and I was positive that I was about to be sick.

  The unrivaled around me began to murmur, and even though I was human, I could smell their fear.

  Raven, who had come in after me, was the only one in the whole room who moved as she came up beside me and put an arm around me in solidarity.

  The guy screamed in pain, regaining my attention.

  From the corner of the room, there was more movement. My gaze left the man’s contorted features as I watched the Puppeteer move through the cafeteria. His gait was leisurely as he walked silently between the rows, his hands casually in the pockets of his pants. A smile curled his perfect lips upward, as if to say he was taking enjoyment in the man’s pain. Then he turned in a circle, making sure he had everyone’s attention.

  “I know other houses operate differently, yet all of you were completely aware of my rules before you entered this house.” His voice was like honey, yet it wasn’t soothing. It was terrifying.

  Another scream was released from the man as one of his teeth came flying out of his mouth.

  “Apparently, we need a recap. Humans did not choose to be humans. Nor did we choose to be unrivaled. It wasn’t fate who decided who has power and who doesn’t. It was a scientist with a serum. Just as he made a decision for all our families long ago, I decide who stays in this house.

  “We have rules. They are simple. Do not harm humans, and do not harm each other. If you have an issue with someone, bring them to me. I will discipline them how I see fit. If you want to demonstrate your power on the weak, then I will make an example of you.”

  Another tooth flew from the man’s mouth.

  “Like Tim here,” the Puppeteer concluded.

  An older teenager in the second row began to cry, her angry eyes focused on Tim.

  The Puppeteer looked over at her. “Name please.”

  Without taking her eyes from Tim, who was plastered against the wall, moaning in agony, she said, “Shalan.”

  The Puppeteer clenched his jaw. “Did Tim here hurt you, Shalan?”

  She refused to answer, but the one lone tear that streamed down her cheek was pretty damning.

  The Puppeteer swiveled his eyes back to Tim. In the next moment, Tim didn’t move as a very vacant look came upon his face. I knew that look. The Puppeteer was scanning Tim’s memories. And I knew that whatever the Puppeteer had found, he didn’t like. His jaw was clenched so hard, and his hands were now out of his pockets, balled into fists. Then, when Tim gasped for air, I realized the Puppeteer had released his mind, done seeking through his memories.

  I didn’t have time to react when Tim’s neck twisted in a funny direction a moment before he hit the ground.

  Everyone in the room gasped.

  “If anyone wants bacon, it’s on the floor.”

  Turning to us, the Puppeteer then said, “Ladies, your shift is over.”

  I somehow managed to move my feet toward the exit as Raven put her hand in mine and squeezed.

  The Puppeteer had just shown everyone here how he had gotten his name. He had also shown them why he was the most feared man in Old America. He had killed that guy like it was nothing, but he hadn’t just killed him; he had tortured him first then made sure that every eye saw what he was capable of.

  As my feet unconsciously shuffled for the exit, I was a mix of emotions. Part of me felt relieved that there probably wasn’t anyone in this house stupid enough to mess with a human or a woman after that display of power. Another part of me was terrified, since thirty minutes prior, I had stupidly grabbed a dull butcher knife to defend the cook. There was no defense against the Puppeteer. Not even a thousand sharpened blades. No way.

  My palms started sweating as we neared the kitchen. However, the Puppeteer branched away from us as he headed in a different direction, and Raven and I silently entered the kitchen where Geralyn was humming. She looked over at our pale faces, and her face pinched up in displeasure.

  “I told you both that I had a bad feeling about the newcomers. Whatever happened out there was deserving.”

  I put a hand around my throat as I remembered the weird angle Tim’s neck had gone. I still felt like I was about to throw up.

  “He can just control us with a thought?” I whispered.

  Geralyn nodded. “He is the only one of his kind.”

  “I guess that is good news,” I said. “But the fact that we’re living under his roof is a little scary.”

  Geralyn gave me and Raven a long look before she set down the pan she was holding. Raven immediately picked it up and took it over to the back corner where she started rolling the balls of cookie dough.

  I was quiet as Geralyn came up beside me while I cleaned up the countertops. “I want to tell you something, but it’s up to you to listen.”

  I stilled my hands as I gave her my undivided attention.

  “This is a new world. You have to make a decision on whether or not you want a wolf guarding your door, one you know exactly what he is capable of; or if you want a sheep that comes in and tells you all the things you yearn to hear is pretty and soft, someone who is gentle and you feel comfortable going to sleep around. Just remember, in this world, there are no sheep. Just wolves in sheep’s clothing. And once you let your guard down, they will ruin you and everything you care about. So, pick wisely which wolf you side with.”

  With that, I watched her walk off before I began to scrub the stains out of the cups.

  Over the next week, I stayed in the kitchen, refusing to go back out to the cafeteria, and Geralyn didn’t force me. I had also thought about Geralyn’s words. I hadn’t seen the
Puppeteer since that day in the cafeteria, but there was no doubt that he was a wolf. He wasn’t even hiding it. If anything, he flaunted it. But at least you knew where you stood with him.

  Maybe Geralyn was right. Maybe the sheep dressed as wolves were scarier than the wolves that flaunted their power.

  The weather was getting colder, and I finally witnessed my first snow. I was staring out the kitchen window, my breath fogging it up, as I watched the prettiest snowflakes fall from the sky. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” A voice behind me made me jump.

  Without turning around, I said, “It’s amazing.”

  “Would you like to go out for a walk? Geralyn said you always come in early to prep. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you going out and having a bit of fun.”

  I really did want to feel the flakes on my skin. “Maybe a short walk.”

  The moccasins that I wore were too thin to be out in the cold for long, so I stayed on the narrow path as the first flakes hit me. I tilted my chin up, threw my arms out wide, and smiled as my eyelashes became wet.

  A chuckle beside me had me opening my eyes and dropping my hands to my sides. I was surprised to see the Puppeteer had followed me out.

  “Don’t stop enjoying something on my account,” he said.

  I scanned the snow falling. The grass was quickly becoming covered, and there were just patches here and there that were left peeking through the sheet of white. This was my first snowfall, and I had to admit that it was breathtaking.

  “Will it continue to fall?” I asked.

  The Puppeteer tilted his head back, as if to ask the clouds. He looked like a statue that had been made in Roman times. He was absolute perfection, with a fierce warrior look to him that made everyone stop and take notice just from the energy that rolled off of him. It was like being in the ocean, swimming, and coming across the most feared predator in the water—the shark. You would flail your arms and scream while praying to be safely carried to shore. But if you could put that shark in a container to marvel at, knowing you were safe and he couldn’t harm you, then you couldn’t help but admire the pure, raw strength in the way the shark moved. That was the Puppeteer. You knew what he was capable of, but that power, always simmering below the surface, was magnificent to behold.