“It won’t be a problem.” The man, Coulthurst, leaned over the platform and handed me my shift. “Cover yourself.”
I didn’t say anything; I just did what he said.
The assistant reshackled my ankles and tied my wrists behind my back. He handed the chain still attached to my collar to the man and then, front his other hand, a key. “Happy sourcing, sir.”
Coulthurst led me through the crowd of bidders, now loudly arguing and fighting over the red-headed witch, and out of the auction room. We were met by a blast of ice-tinged air. It took my breath away—I was glad for the flimsy white fabric of my shift. At least it was something.
We walked in silence across the grounds until, finally, he said, “You can call my Tobias.”
“Okay.”
“And do you have a name, my dear, you should I just refer to you as number 1, 452?”
His demeanor had changed, he wasn’t the befuddled, rumpled oddball in the front anymore. He seemed savvy, intelligent. I knew I was going to have to answer carefully—no doubt he could smell a bullshitter. “My name is Wren.”
“Wren, interesting name. You were the only one up there with any spirit in your eyes. The others were all defeated, they’d already given up hope. You give up hope here? You’re dead.”
“That’s comforting, sir, thank you.”
He chuckled and led me to a strange, mechanical looking cart. It was shaped like a pod on top of a wagon chassis, but had a cloaked, hooded driver perched at the front. It was…steam driven?
Tobias opened the door for me and motioned me inside. As soon as he was seated across from me, he pounded his fist against the front panel. The cart lurched forward. “How long were you at the facility?”
He didn't act like it had a name. I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Where are you from?”
“Here and there. My home was wiped out twice, so, you could say I’m just a wanderer. A lost soul.”
“I thought they burned your kind at the stake.”
“Not currently, no. That’s more of a seventeenth century behavior. We were more preoccupied with social media and selfies and political correctness. The burnings were more implied than anything.”
He chuckled. “That’s quite an opinion.”
“Can you untie my arms?”
He laughed harder, shaking his head. “And let you cast a spell on me? Hardly. You’ll stay bound until we’re back at the estate.”
“Are you going to rape me?”
His furry, caterpillar like brows shot upward; he quickly recovered from his initial shock. “Do I look like I will?”
I regarded him cautiously. He was rumpled and somewhat dumpy looking, but he didn’t look like a letch. “No. That other man, the one who took my sister, would have.”
“Smart girl. And I don’t doubt that anyone in that crowd would do the same—but that isn’t my intention. I can’t speak for my son, though. I bought you for him.”
I looked away.
“No comment for that, young Wren?”
“Nope, no comment. Nothing you’d want to hear anyway.”
He grinned, shaking his head in obvious amusement. “Such spirit. Money well spent, I’d say. Money well spent.”
****
The cart eventually lumbered to a stop, creaking and whirling like the gears and spindles weren’t quite ready to stop when the driver applied the brakes. Tobias hoisted me up and nudged me to the outside.
I blinked. We were standing in front of an enormous, gabled mansion. The front section curved outward with an exterior, rounded porch; above it, a red-roofed, square tower rose into the sky. The windows were dark, except for one in the front, and if I hadn’t been walking to the front door with Tobias, I’d have guessed it was abandoned.
We walked up a set of steep, stone steps and he threw open the doors. “Welcome to your new home, Wren.”
It was as odd inside as it was outside. The front foyer was barren, save for a long, low table shoved to one wall. A curving, marble staircase was situated in front of the main doors and, to each side, the foyer led to different wings of the house. They were like mirror images of each other: double doors at the end and, closer to the staircase, closed doors recessed back. It was clover-like it setup, but it had no personality other than creative construction. There were no furnishings other than the table, no pictures on the wall or muddy shoes on the floor. The doors were all closed, the house was silent.
He gripped my bicep, his fingers digging into the tender flesh near my armpit, and guided me down to the left side of the staircase. We stepped into a corridor lit only by sconces on the walls. It smelled stale; abandoned, like it had sat in waiting for far too long. Tobias pulled me down, our steps muffled by a thick carpet beneath us.
The door at the end of the hallway opened, swinging back into the room; it took a moment for me to realize it was guided by a muscular, bearded hulk of a man. He stared a head as Tobias shoved me inside.
My eyes watered from the sudden blast of warmth. A wide fireplace, stretching probably five feet in length, was the main source of light in the room. Thick drapes, the color of spilled wine, covered the window and reached from floor to ceiling, looking almost like theater drapes. Other than that, the room was relatively bare, except for several candelabras dripping with wax, and a chair.
The woman seated in the chair was so still, at first I thought she was some kind of strange, human sized doll. I took an uncertain step backward.
Tobias shoved me forward. “What do you think, Meleri? She looks about his age, strong and firm. Got a fire in her eyes that I thought he’d like.”
She stood. Her hair was a mass of auburn curls, frizzy and wild, and her posture elegant. At one time, she was probably one of the most sought after women in the Faction. Now? She was worn and drawn, her lips thin and cracked from being too dry. Her dress seemed needlessly severe, with a tight collar pinching at her throat and peaked, stiff sleeves. It matched her expression. “He doesn’t have to like her. He just has to touch her.”
I swallowed hard. She was staring at me the way the men at auction had: penetrating, sizing me up like they were measuring me to fit in a cupboard at home. The look in her eyes was hungry—not of lust, but blood—and she stared at me, studying the features and structure of my face.
I couldn’t look away. The green irises were intoxicating. Her pupils seemed offset, like one didn’t quite match the other, but the hue of her eyes was brilliant. Beautiful. It was the only thing of her that seemed full of warmth and life.
She reached out and pinched my chin between her thumb and index finger. Her jagged nails dug into my flesh and I squirmed; she pinched harder. “Yes…yes, I think she’ll do nicely. What did you pay?”
“All of it.”
“What?” Her eyes narrowed; she pushed past me and slammed her hands into his chest. “What do you mean, all of it? We were looking for a bargain, Tobias, not to spend every last pence we had.”
The air grew thick. Vibrations of anger seemed to jolt through the air and sting my skin. I wanted this all to be over. Why couldn’t I have died—why wasn’t I one of the lucky ones?
Tobias cupped her hands against his chest and laughed. “Oh, my Merry Meleri. Hush up before you put yourself in another one of your fugues and the whole evening is ruined. She was worth every last piece of gold I had. She’s a witch.”
The woman whirled around. Her cheeks were creased by a smile that seemed almost too large, too happy, and she again clamped her hand on my chin. “A witch. That changes everything.”
I tried to squirm away but she held fast. Turning my head from one direction and then to the other, she pinched and twisted my cheeks. “You’re a pale creature; maybe too thin. Pathetic. What’s your name, girl?”
“Wren.”
She shook her head in obvious disgust. “Tell him he can change it if he wants. I expect you to have a full discussion with him, Tobias. Not like when he was twelve. Explain to him why we bought her f
or him and what the conditions are. He can do as he pleases but not to the point where she looses too much blood. There’s an investment in her.” She patted my cheek hard—it was almost a slap. “If he gets tired of her, we’ll sell her for a high price.”
I tried to hold back the shudder that threatened to wrack my body, but I couldn’t. Every muscle in my body was on edge; I didn’t know what the fuck any of this meant. They acted like I was a brand new car for their sixteen-year-old kid. Don’t stay out too late, honey, make sure you always wear a seatbelt. Don’t scratch the paint. I’d thought things were bad at the facility.
I’d had no idea.
The woman was still barking demands at Tobias. He only appeared to be half listening. Finally, she took hold of the chain connected from my collar and yanked me forward. “I will not stand for any tomfoolery. You belong to my son now, and while I’m willing to allow you to live under this roof—for his pleasure—if you so much as lift one cursed finger in my direction, I will kill you myself.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I blinked them back and nodded.
She pulled on the chain again, this time dragging me back to Tobias. “I won’t allow him to see her like this. Have her cleaned up and dressed appropriately. He can see her then—and Tobias, mark my words, the ceremony will happen no matter how hard he fights it. He’s caused enough trouble and you need to explain to him what’s expected of him. He’s a Coulthurst. That name comes with obligations that he doesn’t understand.”
Tobias smiled weakly and nodded. He tugged on my chain. “Come along, girl, the night grows long. He’ll be home soon.”
I was more willing to follow Tobias than his wife—if that’s what she was—so I obediently walked to the door. He didn’t backtrack to the front of the house like I’d expected, instead, he continued down the corridor and into a narrow passage in the wall.
Only it wasn’t a passage: it was a butler’s staircase. I remembered babysitting as a teenager, a nurse’s family in the city. They had a butler’s staircase: a narrow, circular set of steps in the wall that connected the staff to the rest of the house—without having to be seen by Those Who Were Important. Now I was the one they were trying to hide.
I stumbled on the steps, nearly losing my balance. Tobais steadied me, holding fast to my upper arm and waiting while I took a more secure position. I mumbled, “I’m sorry, sir.”
“You’re shaking like a leaf.” He chuckled. “Don’t let that old hag bully you, girl. I’ve known Meleri since she was twelve. She’s harsh and rough and probably married me for my money, but she’s a good mother and she’s kept this family together. She’s the only one Asher respects anymore.”
“Asher?”
“Our son.”
He fell silent and I left it at that. The house, her dress; everything led me to believe that they were one of the most elite families in the Faction. I wasn’t convinced it had always been as dreary and washed out as it was—the overgrown gardens and fountain in the front proved that accurate—and now they were holding on by whatever threads they could grasp. I somehow fit into that mutilated puzzle…I just wasn’t sure how.
I was going to find out. And that, despite everything that I’d already been through, was something that terrified me down to the very last spark of life in my soul.
At the top of the stairs was a very plain, narrow corridor. The staff quarters. A young woman was already standing beside a door, her posture so straight I was surprised her back didn’t arch. “The bath is ready, Lord Coulthurst.”
“Thank you, Nerys. You have everything prepared for the ceremony dress.” It was a statement, not a question.
The woman nodded. “Aye, all that’s missing is Master Asher.”
“Typical, so you shouldn’t be surprised.” He held up his index finger. “You won’t repeat that to Lady Coulthurst.”
“No, sir, I won’t.”
“I didn’t think so.” He handed her the chain and then dug into his pocket, pulling out a small silver key. “I don’t expect the collar when we bring her down, but I want her hands bound. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir.”
“I’ll be back up in fifteen minutes. Is that enough time?”
“Yes, sir, fifteen minutes is more than enough, but twenty would be better.”
“Twenty it is.” He very gently rested his fingertips on my shoulder. “You’re going to behave, right Wren?”
I stared at him. No, I wanted to blast them all with an energy burst and get as far away from this house as I could. But, where was I going to go? Did the portal work both ways and, if so, could I consciously leave Avi and Soleil behind?
He took my silence for consideration. “I’m being generous when I say that you’ve lucked out by being brought here. It could have been much worse. At least four of the men in that crowd today are pedophiles, two of the others want slaves to use and kill, to bathe in their blood. We don’t ask much from you, Wren, except for your loyalty and your commitment to obedience. Nerys, darling, maybe you could explain things better to her. Yes?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Quickly now.” He reached around her and pulled on my chain. “Or I’ll be forced to do it.”
Nerys guided me into the room and closed the door behind me. I heard a slight scuffle outside and then, just as quickly, silence.
I wasn’t sure what that meant.
The room was small and narrow, almost like an afterthought, and a bed, trunk, and copper tub seemed to take up every last inch of available space. Piles of clothes were laid out neatly on the bed: several white lacy underpinnings next to stockings and corsets and, at the top of the mattress, a pile of skirts and ruffled dresses. Next to the clothing was a bar of soap.
Something in the hallway banged against the door and I jumped, nearly tripping over my shackles and face planting on the floor. How had this happened? I replayed everything in my head. I should have told them all no, I should have been more forceful when Soleil wanted to follow Grant. I knew what was going to happen. I’d seen it—I’d been seeing it for years.
I shifted from one foot to the other, trying to flex the cramps out of my calves. I tried to reach out like Soleil always did; I needed to know if Avi was still alive. If Soleil was still out there. My fingertips burned either energy, but I didn’t feel anything; god damn it, I didn’t even know how to start. How could you feel someone so far away? How could you know if they were alive when you were ready to meet death yourself?
Tears burned my eyes. I was never as good as my sister, this just proved it. I couldn’t feel anything. Not Soleil, not Avi. No one.
If they’d bought me because they thought having a witch would change things, they were wrong.
The door burst open. Nerys stumbled across the threshold, her skirt wrinkled and twisted. As she turned away from me, I saw her hand snake up to her throat and adjust the buttons along the neck of the work dress. She was trying to hide it.
I’d seen.
Her cheeks flushed as soon as she faced me. “Are you crying?”
“I have a cramp in my leg.”
She straightened her skirt and brushed past me, fetching a bucket from the fireplace hearth and emptying it in the tub. Her eyes slid to me, but she didn’t quite look me full in the face. “I need to unbind your arms, but you need to promise me you won’t hurt me or conjure some kind of spell. Is that fair?”
“I’m not that good of a witch, so you really don’t have to worry.”
She took a half-step forward, studying me with a worried—but curious—gaze. This time her eyes met mine and I realized, her irises were brown.
Not green like everyone else.
“But you are…a witch? I mean, they’re right about that. That’s why they picked you?”
I didn’t know how to respond to her string of questions, so I just nodded. Soleil would have been so much better at this, she would have fluttered her dark eyelashes and looked so sweet, that the maid would have done whatever she asked.
She held up a key. “Promise you won’t hurt me?”
“I promise.”
She crept to my side and squatted down, fumbling with the lock at my ankles. I peered down at her; I could only see the top of her head and her mussed hair. This close, though, I could see the sweat beading on her neck. The pale hue to her skin. It was like she was frailer than she’d been before I walked in the room.
The shackles around my ankles shifted as she struggled with the lock, twisting the whole piece as if that was somehow going to make it work. The metal dug into my raw skin; I sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you want me to try?”
It took her a moment to respond. Was she really out of breath? “It’s just…I mean…it’s a bad angle.”
“If you untie my hands first, I’ll do it.” I waited a few beats and, when she didn’t respond, said, “You don’t have to worry about me doing something, honestly. You can trust me.”
“You’re a witch.”
“Yes, we’ve established that, but to be fair I was brought here completely against my will. I’m not even sure where the fuck I am.”
“The Coulthurst Estate.”
“Totally not what I meant.”
She pushed back onto her knees and then stumbled, quickly grabbing onto the bedpost to keep herself upright. “Okay. Okay, I’ll trust you.”
I watched her attempt to hoist herself upward—her elbows shook and then gave way completely. Turning around, I knelt down in front of her. “Here, is this better?”
She didn’t say anything. I felt her clammy hand against mine and, after a loud grunt, her body weight rested on my shoulders.
I heard a click.
My arms snapped apart, the thrill of release as my wrists moved freely and the throb in my shoulders as they adjusted; god, it was pain, but I was alive. I felt it.
I slid down to my knees and rolled onto my ass. Reaching out for the key, I said, “I’m Wren.”
She handed it to me. “I know.”
Once my ankles were free, she nodded to the tub. “You can get started if you want. I…I just need a minute.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Her head dipped down and she stared at the ground. She didn’t speak.
Claimed: Faction 3: The Isa Fae Collection Page 17