by H. D. Gordon
Or perhaps it was just the ache in my heart from which I was suffering. I could scarcely tell the difference anymore.
Kalene did not congratulate me. What she said was, “I’m glad you made it back.”
I gave her a ghost of a smile. “I told you I would, and tomorrow, you’ll do the same.”
“Gods willing.”
“Those bastards have nothing to do with it.”
Kalene’s red lips tilted up in a sad smile. “Careful, my friend. You’ll sound jaded.”
“And gods forbid,” Ares said, joining us. Oren arrived back from the arena not too long after, and the four of us washed our sins away in The Cascades before heading over to the Kitchen for sustenance.
While Oren and Kalene were getting seconds, I leaned forward and whispered to Ares. “So, what’s the plan?”
Ares’ light brown eyes met mine. “You still want to move forward? After today?” he asked.
I sighed. “I appreciate the consideration,” I said, “but after today, all I want to do is move forward.”
The image of Serilda being swallowed whole by that sea serpent flashed through my head, and I had to suppress a shudder. In a low voice, I added, “I’m done being complacent. I’m done sitting around waiting to die. Tell me what you need me to do.”
So, he did… and I agreed that I would do it.
“This is dangerous, Rook,” Ares warned. “They’ll skin you alive if you’re caught.”
“Look around, my friend,” I said. “We really can’t get any more fucked.”
That settled it. Tonight, when everyone was celebrating the close to the first day of The Games, I would sneak into Reagan Ramsey’s cliff side castle and try to steal the secret to removing a Dog’s collar.
It had to be me, and not Ares, because a strange male was much more likely to be recognized wandering through the castle than a strange female. According to Ares, Ramsey kept as many workingwomen around him as possible, which only served to make me hate him all the more.
If there was a way to remove the blasted collars, I vowed that I would try to help as many of those females to freedom as possible, because despite the events in The Games today, I still thought these ladies had drawn the shortest sticks of all. I didn’t let myself think about Goldie, because if I did find the answer I was seeking, I knew locating her would be my next stop. Even if I had to go through that bastard Adriel to do it.
Knowing that I had my work cut out for me this evening I returned to the cave and rested for the remainder of the day. My sleep was deep and heavy, the world in my head nothing but darkness. In fact, if Ares hadn’t come and woken me up, I might have slept right through the celebration.
Ryker was the only other person who had ever been to the place where I slept, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Ares tilt his head back and take in the scent of the Head Hound, but his face remained absent any judgment. I decided I liked the male a little more for this.
Ares informed me of the details of my mission, and then he pulled two lacy, mostly sheer items out of a bag and tossed them to me.
“What in the names of the gods is this?” I asked.
Ares’ handsome face lit up in a grin. “That’s what you’ll be wearing.”
I held up the garments—if one could even call them that—and looked back at Ares with narrowed eyes.
“Where did you get this?”
“I borrowed it from a friend.”
My nose scrunched up, but I stripped down and donned the scraps of clothing, cringing at the way they left little to the imagination. The top consisted of a string that went around my neck, holding duel satin pieces trimmed with small golden coins over my breasts, and tying behind my back. The other piece was a satin skirt trimmed with those same golden coins that would jingle every time I walked and present a challenge in trying to remain silent and decent.
“One more thing,” Ares said. He reached into his bag and handed me a gold mask that would conceal the top portion of my face. I stared down at the ridiculous item in my hand, tracing the gold whorls sewn into it with a finger.
After this, he wished me good luck.
Then I had only to wait until nightfall.
The Cliffside Castle perched above the city of Marisol as though the structure itself were a ruler upon a throne. The gray sandstone out of which it had been carved glittered silver in the moonlight, the many conch-shell shaped towers glowing with flames made green, pink, and royal blue by the seaglass in which they were cased. Water fell in shimmering, whispering waterfalls from many of the ledges and balconies, creating a fog of mist that kissed at the face of the castle unendingly.
Tonight, the place was even more spectacular than usual. The green lampposts leading up to the castle, with their blue Apollo-blessed flames, had been adorned with strings of flowers and twinkling little lights. The air smelled of salt and summer blooms, growing cooler the closer one got to the entrance of the castle.
The sounds of celebrations—gently playing music, the clinking of glasses, laughter and an occasional howl toward the heavens—drifted out only to be swallowed up by the revelry taking place in the city streets. The first day of The Games had been an exhilarating exhibition for most of the lucky bastards, and it would be followed by the type of debauchery that only seemed appropriate under the cloak of nighttime.
Carriages pulled by well-bred horses trundled up to the Cliffside Castle in a line as far as the eye could see, carrying the Wolves, Vamps, and other various creatures who were fortunate enough to warrant an invitation to Reagan Ramsey’s personal after party. Instead of following these visitors, I went around to another route, where a service road blocked by a gate led to the rear of the castle.
Just as Ares had promised, there were other workingwomen filtering in through this way as well, along with various others who looked to be cooks, maids, and servants. Two Hounds stood at the gate, checking each caller who sought to come through. I swallowed down the nerves that were trying to wind in my stomach and managed not to jump when a hand landed on my shoulder.
“What do you call a Dog with no legs?” asked a sultry voice in my ear.
I spun around only to come face-to-face with a beautiful female with smooth brown skin and green eyes that were lined with kohl. Her lips had been colored a lovely shade of pink, and the outfit she wore concealed about as much of her fit body as did mine. Despite her stunning face, her hair was easily her most striking feature. It framed her face in tight, shiny curls that were full enough to sit in a dark cloud around her head and fall down her delicate shoulders.
One fine brow arched as she looked at me impatiently. “What do you call a Dog with no legs?” she repeated.
I cleared my throat. “It doesn’t matter what you call her. She won’t come.”
Apparently having passed her test with the answer Ares had provided me, the female linked her arm through mine and said in a voice low enough for only me to hear, “Follow my lead. Smile. Do not look the Hounds in the eyes. Your name is Scarlett. Don’t forget it.”
I nodded my understanding, watching as she slid a mask similar to mine over her face. “And what do I call you?” I whispered.
“Angelise,” she said. “Angel for short.” She glanced at the gate where the Hounds were interrogating a fat Wolf with a chef’s hat for what seemed like just the hell of it, and then back at me. “You sure about this?”
I tugged her toward the Hounds. “If we wait much longer, I might not be.”
Angelise gave me a sympathetic look that was gone in an instant, replaced by the suggestive, sleepy-eyed expression that I’d seen Goldie use to her advantage many times. The two Hounds licked their lips as we approached, admiring all the skin revealed by our sheer, silky outfits. Just as it always had with Goldie, it made me want to knock the teeth out of the Hounds’ mouth for looking at us the way they were.
There was a knock at my mental walls, a sensation that I hadn’t felt in such time that it surprised me. When I looked over at Angelise, she sho
wed no indication of what she’d done, but I lowered my shields and let her in, anyway.
Her sultry voice echoed through my head in the telepathic manner available to Wolves: “Smile,” she snapped.
My lips lifted at the corners and I forced my shoulders to relax, adding a little extra sway to my hips, the way I’d seen Goldie do so many times. The Hounds made a couple crude remarks, one promising to find me later if Ramsey wasn’t “using” me at the time, and by the will of the Gods, I forced another smile to my lips and suppressed a cringe when Angelise blew a kiss back at them.
After this, the bastards allowed us to go inside.
Up the winding service road, and around and around to the rear of the castle. While Angelise and I followed the other workers, I kept reminding myself to smile and to hold my body in a way that was non-threatening. After so many years of constant fighting and posturing, it was more effort than I had anticipated, but I managed. With every step we took closer to the castle, the weight of my mission pressed down on me, threatening to sink me into the earth.
I shoved this fear away, reminding myself that this was no more deadly than a match in The Ring, and that my success here depended upon my ability to keep a cool head.
The service road ended at a stone wall with an arched entryway, the castle itself looming directly behind. Here, we were stopped again by two more Hounds. More crude remarks from them and strained smiles from me. Once more, we were finally allowed to pass.
Scantily clad and scared out of my wits, I followed closely at Angelise’s side as we at last entered the fortress that was Reagan Ramsey’s Cliffside Castle.
37
The inside was as spectacular as the out. The air was much cooler within, the thick walls of gray sandstone slightly damp with sea spray, which gave the structure a clean, pure aroma.
Angelise and I passed through a servant’s entrance and were directed down a long hallway toward another arched door. From beyond that door, the sounds of music, clinking champagne glasses, and laughter could be heard. I swallowed hard, and Angelise gave my arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Silently, she told me, “I know you’re afraid, but your success tonight could lead to the liberation of thousands.” She met my gaze with those striking green eyes. “Gods bless you, Rukiya Moonborn.”
That was the second time I’d heard that name, but I didn’t have time to ponder it as we were shooed through the arched doorway and into a ballroom so grand that it took my breath away.
Silver chains with links the size of my hand descended from the high ceiling, ending in dancing green flames that licked downward, casting a mystical glow over the large room. In one corner sat a band of musicians, instruments poised on their shoulders and thighs, their lithe fingers plucking out a sweet melody on the strings.
People in masks and elaborate clothing were everywhere, and waiters with trays of foods I couldn’t identify circulated the room. Beneath their jewels, makeup, and masks, the various people flashed smiles of perfect, white teeth, as if their only concern in the world was what they would wear to the next party. It was an effort to keep from gawking and scowling, instead keeping my docile smile in place.
“You see that crimson curtain over there?” asked Angelise, somehow managing to both flirt with a pudgy Wolf and speak in my mind at the same time.
I searched for and located where she’d indicated, affirming it telepathically.
“When you’re able to do so without being noticed, you’re to slip behind that curtain. There will be a door there, and to open it, you’ll turn the knob twice to the left, and three times to the right. Do you understand so far?”
“Yes.”
“Good. After you open the door, there will be three hallways leading off in separate directions. Take the one on your right. This will lead you to Ramsey’s private study.”
I listened carefully to all the instructions as Angelise continued. Then all I had to do was find my opening.
It came not too much later. When three fire-dancers claimed the center of the ballroom and began doing a dangerous routine that awed those gathered. While all eyes were on the dancers, I scooted over toward the crimson curtain and slipped smoothly behind it. Just as Angelise had promised, a door was hidden there. I turned its knob two times to the left, and three to the right.
There was a barely audible click, and the door swung open.
Holding my breath, I squeezed through and shut it gently behind me. Turning, I found a tiny chamber connected to three dark hallways, and as instructed, chose the one on the right. This led me to yet another door requiring another combination. Again, the passcode provided by Angelise proved true.
My heart was beating rapidly in my throat as the lock clicked open and the door swung inward to reveal Reagan Ramsey’s private study.
Despite the cool air in the castle, and the fact that I was wearing barely anything at all, a sweat broke out over my forehead as I tried not to let thoughts of what would become of me if I were to be caught disrupt my concentration.
Recalling Ares’ precise instructions, I ignored the plush carpet under my feet and the fine furniture scattered throughout the chamber and headed over to the west wall. Here, I found the real reason that this mission had to be accomplished by me. I had something most other slaves had never been afforded—the ability to read.
I’d learned secretly as a child, taught by one of the Gods-worshipers who’d stayed in Dogshead for a spell. For obvious reasons, this was a skill that I did not display, and Ares had only come to know about it by happenstance one day when we’d been in one of Marisol’s taverns. I’d been shitfaced and had drunkenly read a few words that had been carved into a wooden table. When he’d revealed this plan to me, I’d realized that this was information he had tucked away.
The entire west wall was a bookcase, and on this bookcase there were countless tomes on varying subjects and stories. I had never seen so many volumes gathered in one place, and for a moment, I just stared at the letters, afraid that after all this time of being denied material to read, I had forgotten how to do it.
I took a deep, steadying breath and willed my mind to concentrate.
To my relief, it turned out that reading was like riding a horse; no matter how much time passed, once one was in the saddle again, it all came flooding back.
The letters on the spines of the books began to arrange themselves into words, and I scanned them as quickly as possible for the one I was looking for. My palms became damper with each passing second, aware that the time I was on was already borrowed. Nervously, I ran my fingers over a small totem of a Wolf that had been placed amongst the stacks.
Then my eyes settled on the book I’d been seeking, and I read the words on the spine to confirm. I pulled the ordinary brown book from the shelf and ran my hand over it while whispering the incantation I’d been given, which revealed the book’s true color. Staring down at the Silver Codex, my heart thundered in my chest.
There was a small click behind me, and I turned to see that the main door to Reagan Ramsey’s office had opened.
There was no time to hide, or even to replace the book that was clutched like the color red in my hand. I could only stand like a big-eyed doe, staring at the open door in absolute panic as the person who’d opened it entered.
It was not Reagan Ramsey.
To my utter confusion, the person who walked through the door had crimson eyes trimmed with dark, thick lashes. His gate was so smooth and predatory that he did not even make a sound that my Wolf ears could pick up. He wore his usual black slacks and black shirt of the finest fabrics. As he saw me standing there before the bookcase, a wicked grin lit up his gorgeous face, and he ran a pale hand through his ebony hair, smoothing the shiny locks back to perfection.
On its own accord, the door he’d come through shut behind him, and I stood immobile, like a rabbit caught in a snare.
“Hello, Rukiya dearest,” Adriel said. His red eyes darted down to my feet, running up my bare legs and hi
ps, over my flat stomach and semi-concealed breasts, to my painted lips, and the gold mask covering my eyes… and then to the silver book clutched in my hand. He clicked his tongue. In his cool, collected, and alluring voice, he added, “Looks like I’ve stumbled upon you doing something naughty.” His grin was all white, perfect teeth with long, pointed canines. “Lucky me.”
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, saying the first thing I could think of.
In that even tone, he replied without hesitation. “Ramsey sent me to retrieve something. Your turn.”
It was a wonder I could speak past the lump that was trying to lodge itself in my throat. I studied the Mixbreed with appraising eyes. “You’re lying,” I said.
Adriel’s beautiful head tilted just so, the movement so slight as to be almost imperceptible. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I said, with more confidence than I felt. My eyes darted toward the secret door through which I’d entered the study. I weighed the odds of outrunning him, and came up devastatingly short.
After a moment of heavy silence, he said, “Maybe I am, but you still haven’t told me what your business is in Ramsey’s office.” He nodded once at the book in my hand. “Or perhaps you’ve already retrieved what you came for.”
Instinctively, I held the book behind my back, giving myself away in the process. Now I was considering my chances of taking out the Mixbreed if it came down to it… and was once again relatively sure Adriel could swallow me alive.
He took a step toward me, held out a pale hand. “Hand that over, dearest. Let’s have a looksee.”
My lips pulled back at little, flashing my teeth as I shook my head once. “No,” I said.
This book could hold the key to not just my own freedom, but also the freedom of so many others. There was no damn way I was giving it to this shifty bastard. He’d already fooled me once after bargaining for my blood and telling me nothing in return except for that Goldie was “fine.” I was not about to be fooled again.