“Welcome to my absolute favorite place in all of Purgatory. The public library.”
11
“Pierce,” I whisper. “This is…” I shake my head. I can’t find the words to express myself.
“You mentioned classic literature,” Pierce says, bringing my hand to his mouth for a quick kiss. My skin tingles where his lips touched it. “Do you have a favorite author?”
That’s an easy question. “Charlotte Brontë. Jane Eyre. I’ve never enjoyed a book as much, and Charlotte’s writing is beautiful.”
“Ah, Charlotte,” Pierce says on a sigh. “One of my favorites as well. Come. Let me show you something.”
With our fingers still tangled together, Pierce leads me to the far side of the library and down one aisle of books. He doesn’t have to search out what he’s looking for. He goes directly to the right spot and points out dozens of books. I read the spines and gasp in disbelief. “These are…”
I snatch one of the books off the shelf and open it to the title page. “They say written by Charlotte Brontë, but I’ve never heard of any of these titles.”
Pierce pulls his shoulders back and puffs out his chest a little. “Miss Brontë went straight to Paradise, but the Paradise library often sends over books to us here. As you can see, death did not kill Miss Brontë’s creativity.”
Astonished, I carefully replace the book I’d removed, and I brush my hand over the spines of the books as if they’re precious. My eyes skim each title. I can’t wait to read each and every one of these books. My face is starting to hurt; I’m smiling so hard. Next to Charlotte’s books is a collection of Emily Brontë books, and when I see them, I realize something. “This entire library is filled with books that don’t exist in the living world. All of my favorite authors from the past probably have collections in here.”
Pierce’s gaze locks on me. “That’s correct.”
I have to fight not to squeal. “An entire collection of books from my favorite authors that I’ve never read? Are you sure this isn’t Paradise?”
Pierce chuckles and gives me a moment to completely geek out. I pull one of the books off the shelf and start to read the first page. I only get a paragraph in, when Pierce pulls the book from my hand, drops it to the floor, and captures me by the wrists. He slams me back against the shelf, hard, with my hands trapped above my head. Before I can ask what’s going on, his mouth is on mine in a kiss so hot I’ll be feeling it all night. The man is seriously going to make me combust.
He lets go of my wrists to run his hands down the length of my sides. My hands fall to his head. I pull the elastic from his hair and start to rake my fingers through his long golden locks, but he quickly seizes my wrists again. “No,” he growls, lifting my arms above my head again. “Hold them here,” he demands. “Don’t move them.”
My body thrills at the command. I’ve had a handful of lovers, but none of them were a control freak in the bedroom. I’m not that surprised that the immaculate Pierce is so dominant. What I am surprised at is how much I’m turned on by his little game.
Once he’s convinced I’m going to obey him, he lets go of my wrists again. His mouth captures mine while his hands slide along my ribs. I squirm beneath his touch. My senses are heightened knowing that I’m not allowed to move. His mouth moves to my neck, and I let my head fall back to give him better access. As he trails his lips all over my neck and nips at my ear, his hands find their way to my blouse.
“What are you doing?” I gasp when he starts to make quick work of the buttons.
“My gift allows me to see your soul,” he says, not stopping his task of opening the buttons on the front of my blouse. “I know everything about you. Every deep, dark secret. All of your wildest fantasies…”
My face flames with embarrassment, but Pierce doesn’t notice. He’s opened my blouse just enough to expose me, and his eyes are fixed on my chest.
“I don’t remember having this fantasy,” I mumble as he moves him mouth to my collarbone.
“That’s because this one is mine.” His voice is deep and throaty. The sound makes me shiver. “Maybe that’s why I rule over Purgatory. I’m a little too wicked for Paradise.”
I gasp when his hands glide over my silky bra. “We’re in public,” I squeak.
Pierce pulls his face back and gives me a searching look. “Do you want me to stop?”
Oh, how to answer that question… “No,” I admit. “But I would like a little more privacy.”
Immediately we go from the large public library to a much smaller, private one. It looks more like a study than an actual library, though the walls are lined with shelves of books. The only light in the room comes from a large fireplace with a roaring fire in its belly. In front of the fireplace are a large faux fur rug and a dark leather couch. “Better?” Pierce asks.
My pulse has calmed down some, now that I’m not afraid of anyone happening upon us. “Where are we?”
“The den in the mansion.”
Pierce leads me toward the fireplace, and instead of lying me down on the couch, he guides me to the rug on the floor and takes off my already unbuttoned blouse. I glance toward the open office door and gulp. “What about the others? Aren’t you afraid Gabriel or Cyrus will come in?”
“No. I’m not.” Pierce straddles my hips and removes his tie. “I wouldn’t mind if they did.”
My eyes bulge at his statement. I’ve never considered myself to be a prude, but maybe I’m more naïve than I thought.
Pierce locks his hungry gaze on mine and takes my wrists in his hands. My eyes widen, and my heart kicks into overdrive as he ties my wrists together with his tie and fastens them to the foot of the couch above my head. Once I’m good and stuck, his face sobers. “All you have to do is tell me to stop and I will. You understand?”
My heart is going to beat right out of my chest. I’m having a hard time keeping air in my lungs, and every part of my body is alive with the anticipation of experiencing something new.
“Do you understand?” Pierce repeats forcefully when I don’t answer right away.
I nod. “Yes.”
Heat flashes in Pierce’s eyes. “Good girl.” He looks at his watch and grins devilishly. “You’re mine for the next two hours, until I have to share you at dinner.”
He falls forward, claiming my lips once more in a hard, passionate kiss, and then proceeds to make me his, over and over again until we have to wash up for dinner.
12
I wake up in my lavender and peach princess room. The previous evening had gone very similar to the one before it, with a great dinner and then the three of us relaxing. This time, we watched a movie while the lords all spoiled me. It was heaven. Pierce walked me to my bedroom door, kissed me, and then bade me good night, claiming I needed lots of rest for my day with Cyrus. I was okay with that. He’d thoroughly worn me out before dinner, and admittedly, I’m a little nervous about going to the Prison realm.
After I shower, I mentally ask my all-knowing closet to provide me with attire fit for a day in Prison with the warden. I’m not surprised when I end up with a long-sleeve black T-shirt, black and gray army fatigue pants, and black combat boots. After dressing, I put my hair in a high ponytail and do minimal makeup—though I do go a little heavy on the eyeliner, because I feel like a total badass.
I head downstairs, and once again find Pierce sitting at the table enjoying a cup of coffee and a light breakfast while he reads the news on his tablet. This time Cyrus is there as well. He’s leaning against the counter, holding a plate in one hand and making his way through a heaping pile of eggs, bacon, and potatoes. I walk into the room, clearing my throat. “Good morning.”
Both men look up. Pierce’s eyes rove over me, and he gives me a crooked smile. “It’s a good look for you.”
The compliment makes me blush, and I suddenly feel a bit self-conscious, wondering if I’ll earn Cyrus’s approval. The man in question looks me over and frowns. I tug at the hem of my shirt. “If this doesn’t
work, I can go change. I sort of…asked my closet to dress me today.”
Pierce laughs at my choice of wording and waves me over to the table where a cup of coffee and bowl of oatmeal with fresh berries on top suddenly appears. I don’t go anywhere. I’m waiting for an answer from Cyrus. When he realizes this, he shakes his head. “It’s fine. It’s actually the perfect outfit for a day in Prison, and Pierce is right, you look good.”
“But…?” I ask. Because there is definitely a silent but attached to the end of his explanation.
Cyrus sighs. “I don’t want to take you to Prison. It’s not exciting like bouncing around the living world, or even exploring Purgatory. It’s not a good place. Definitely no place for the Lady of the Netherworld.”
He meets my eyes, and his cheeks tinge the tiniest bit pink. “You deserve better than to spend the day there, Kinsey. I thought maybe I would take the day off and we could spend it here. I’ll give you a tour of the whole place and show you how I spend my spare time.”
My worry and self-consciousness melt away. He’s so sweet. A giant teddy bear with a tough outer shell. In fact, he sounds like he’s the one who’s self-conscious about where he works. I don’t want him to feel bad or worry that I like him less than the others just because he spends his days in what basically equates to hell, so I cross the room to him and place my hand gently on his huge forearm. His eyes immediately fall to my hand, and his muscles tighten beneath my touch. Not like he doesn’t appreciate me touching him. Maybe more that he likes it too much and is surprised I’m doing it.
“I don’t mind that the place isn’t the same as the living world or Purgatory,” I say. “We can spend the day here doing whatever you want, but I’d still like to at least see where you work.” When his gaze snaps to mine, I give him a soft smile. “It’s such a big part of who you are, and I want to know you, Cyrus.”
Wariness creeps into his expression. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I think it’s amazing that you can spend your days in such a negative environment and yet still be so nice and thoughtful.”
Cyrus blushes again, and clears his throat. “I guess if you want to see it, I can show you most of it from the control room. You’ll be safe there.”
He still sounds wary, but he’s standing just a little bit taller than he was before. I lift onto my toes and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Cyrus.”
For a brief moment, he looks shocked, but he quickly buries his surprise and gruffly says, “Go eat your breakfast. You’ll need it where we’re going.”
I follow Cyrus’s example and attack the oatmeal Pierce conjured for me with gusto. I’m still eating when Pierce leaves. He gives me a kiss on the cheek and wishes me a good day, and then he’s gone. When I take my empty plate to the sink, Cyrus is standing there watching me. “You seem friendly with Pierce,” he says slowly.
Cyrus doesn’t sound jealous, he sounds worried. I give him a soft smile as I nod. “I am. And hopefully after today I’ll be just as friendly with you.” At his surprise, I add, “That’s the point of today, isn’t it? To get to know you better and become friends?”
He sighs. “I don’t know that you’ll want to be my friend after you see me at work. I have to be…someone else. Someone who’s not really me.” A crease appears in his forehead. “You’re not going to like it.”
I get what he’s saying, and I suppose I can understand his fear that I won’t want to choose him because he has to be a hard-ass at work, but I’m sure I can separate the two sides of him. He’s been nothing but thoughtful so far, if a little rough around the edges. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Cyrus stares at me a moment before nodding in resignation. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
He holds out a hand to me, but I feel like he could use a little extra TLC, so I step up to him and slip my arm around his waist while placing the other on his chest. “I’m ready.”
Once again, surprise flashes in his eyes and he swallows hard, but his arm circles my back and he holds me tightly. He says nothing as the world around us shifts, just stares into my eyes with hard determination. After we pop into a large room filled with surveillance monitors and computers, Cyrus says, “If you get too uncomfortable, tell me. We can leave at any time.”
He waits until I nod before he lets me go, then he waves his hand around the room. “This is the control room. We can monitor all of Prison from here.”
The most noticeable thing about the room is the bank of huge windows in front of me that holds a view of the entire realm. I feel like I’m in an air traffic control tower, except what’s in front of me is nothing as shiny as airplanes landing and taking off.
First of all, it’s dim and dreary outside. That perpetual sunset sky that I’ve seen since I’ve been here is gone. It’s almost as if the world in front of me is in black and white. But not quite. It’s just dull and dingy—a canvas of grays and browns. There are endless buildings that look like actual prisons, surrounded with tall chain-link fences topped with barbed wire. People mill about in some of the yards, wearing gray jumpers. The entire scene is utterly depressing.
Beyond the land of prisons, the sky fades into a starless darkness, and I can see a faint orange glow that reminds me of fire. “What’s that out there?” I ask absently.
When Cyrus doesn’t answer right away, I turn around to find him and a few souls dressed similarly to Cyrus and me all watching me take in their world. The men stand stiffly and give off the impression of trained soldiers. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what they were in their lives before coming here.
Cyrus clears his throat as he comes to stand beside me. “This is Lady Kinsey,” he says, addressing the room of soldiers rather than me. It’s like a switch has been flipped. He’s not softhearted Cyrus right now; he’s drill sergeant Cyrus. “She’s new to the Netherworld. She’s to be the keeper of Paradise. Myself and the other lords have been giving her a tour. She has authority over you and is to be treated with the utmost respect at all times.”
The men gape at me in shock but still manage to chime out a chorus of soft yes, sirs. When none of them can take their eyes off me, Cyrus barks, “Enough! Back to work!”
He gets another round of yes, sirs.
While the men all busy themselves with the computers and monitors, Cyrus takes my hand and faces us toward the window. “Welcome to Prison.”
I look out over the depressing land and nod absently. “It’s pretty much how I pictured it.” When Cyrus slides me a sideways glance, I shrug. “I was a lawyer. I’ve visited clients in prison on a number of occasions.”
Cyrus’s eyebrows lift ever so slightly, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a barely-there smile. Breaking my stare, he nods out the window. “Prison is divided into three categories—levels, if you will—and men and women are always separated. Think of it like minimum security, maximum security, and…true eternal damnation.” I startle, and Cyrus winces. He waves toward the dark place, and I realize that the orange glow must be from fire. “That’s what the living call hell. The darkest, most evil, violent souls are thrown into pits, where they burn for eternity.”
I try to keep my face blank, but I must not succeed, because Cyrus sighs. “Don’t worry, very few souls condemn themselves to that fate, and those that do…well, they truly deserve it.”
“I’m sure they do.” I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry, and cast my gaze back to the dark place. “Are you the person who has to take them there?”
Cyrus folds his large arms over his chest and gives me a curt nod. “Someone has to do it.” He sounds defensive. “This is my domain, and that place is the stuff of nightmares. I won’t subject anyone else to that horror.”
“I’m not judging you, Cyrus.” I pull his arms apart and tangle our fingers together. “You aren’t the bad guy. You aren’t the one punishing those souls—they did it to themselves. You’re only enforcing a sentence that Pierce handed down. A sentence they deserve. I find it admirable that you bear t
he burden of that place all alone.”
Cyrus sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, and when he speaks, it’s laced with emotion. “Thank you, Kinsey.”
“You bet, big guy.”
Cyrus slants me a look, I’m assuming because of my new nickname for him. I raise a challenging brow, silently daring him to tell me not to use any pet names. He waits a moment, like he’s debating doing just that, but then he cracks a small smile, shakes his head, and turns his attention back out the window. I grin at my victory, wondering if anyone else could break through his gruff exterior. Has anyone else ever made him smile? It’s kind of thrilling that I can do it.
“So what do you do all day?” I ask. “What are some of your duties?”
“Well, you know that I escort each new Prison-bound soul from Purgatory to here. I make sure they get put in the right place, and aside from that, I basically oversee everything. Make sure it runs smoothly. It takes a lot of souls to run this place and keep the inmates under control. All of my souls are volunteers from Purgatory who are here to work off their sins in hopes that they can move on to Paradise. It’s my job to train the new volunteers.”
Before I can ask another question, a loud warning siren goes off in the room.
“What is it?” Cyrus demands, heading to a man sitting at the bank of monitors.
“A riot, sir. Sector 14, block C.”
Cyrus growls in frustration. His eyes flick to me, conflict raging in his expression. Whatever internal battle he’s fighting, he seems to lose it, and turns back to his soldier with grim determination. He scans the monitors and then says, “Tell all the guards to get out safely and put the whole building on lockdown.” He points an angry finger at a man standing nearby. “You, keep Lady Kinsey safe,” he orders.
With one last conflicted look, he pins me with a glare. “Don’t leave this room.” He thinks a moment, then adds, “Please.”
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