by M. S. Willis
“Oh good. You’re awake.”
She could tell immediately from the voice that it was the man from the hallway. The door shut and she peeked open her eyes to see his outline standing near the door. Even in the darkness of the room, he was an intimidating presence. He was wide in his shoulders, but his waistline was thin. The material of his shirt bunched around the defined muscle of his arm and he stood with his hands folded behind his back, his feet parted to shoulder width. His hair and complexion were dark, but his eyes … those were caught in the moonlight and they shone out, a brilliant sapphire blue.
“I’d ask how you’re feeling, however, I’m sure I already have a good idea.” He slowly walked forward, the sounds of his boots against the stone ground echoing louder with each approaching step. “You’re lucky you’re still alive. Under normal circumstances, Aaron would have removed your head for a stunt like that. The only reason you are still breathing is because I need to know why you’re here.”
He stopped when he stood a few feet from her. “Now, are we going to play nice, or does this have to be painful.”
She didn’t even flinch at his implied threat. She’d been raised to endure whatever torture he could inflict. They’d called it a gift — her penchant for pain, and they’d nurtured it so that it would benefit Hope when she fought or in case of capture.
Inching closer, he held her stare. “What is your name and, more importantly, why did you just attempt to kill Aaron Carmichael?” She could see his muscles tighten, rage settling across his shoulders when he’d moved within inches of her. Raising his arms, he placed a hand on the wall by each side of her face.
A shiver ran down her spine, but she shook it off and silently turned her head to break eye contact. She felt his hand wrap itself within her hair and pull.
“Answer me!” His nostrils flared, the heat of his enraged command brushing across her cheek. Her scalp burned where her hair was knotted in his fist.
She winced in reaction to the pain, hissing when he pulled her face to his.
He stared at her for several minutes, his eyes darting over her features, memorizing each shadow on her skin. She held still, desperately attempting to steady the beat of her heart, to deny him any sign of fear.
Pushing off the wall, he distanced himself. Folding his hands at his back, he paced the length of the room. When he finally stopped, he turned to her with a smile adorning his face.
“You’re well trained. I’ll give you that.” Slowly, he stepped towards her, his movement graceful as a prowling tiger. “But, I’m sure there are ways to make you speak.”
His finger flicked up to run along her jawline, down her neck and along the center of her chest, stopping just above where the leather intersected between her breasts.
She wasn’t surprised by his first implied threat. If nothing else, she could rely on a man’s loyalty to his cock. However, she was glad for him to have made it.
She cleared her throat, preparing to play a role that had bought her freedom many times before. “Like what you see?” She smiled when his shocked eyes rose to her face. “Unchain me and we can work something out.” She hated this game, but it had been useful in escaping other situations. She never went far with any man, just enough to get him to free her of her binds. All of the men died within seconds of making that mistake.
He leaned into her, the stubble of his chin rubbing against her temple. Whispering, he teased, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He pushed away again, moving to the table in the center of the room to sit against it. “Unfortunately for you, I’m well taken care of in that department. I’m sorry to crush your hopes and dreams, but I’ll decline.” He smirked at her.
She didn’t respond, refusal a blanket across the thoughts she couldn’t reveal. Allowing her eyes to roam over the empty walls of the room in which she was held, Hope wouldn’t allow herself to look at his face. He was handsome, a fact that could not be argued, but he was also the person preventing her from returning to that other bastard’s house. They would kill her sister, would destroy the only person she’d admired in her life and she couldn’t allow that to happen.
Her eyes shot back to him when he spoke.
“Tell me your name.”
She stared at him, her lip curling in rebellion and disgust. “What does my name matter?”
“It doesn’t.” With a blank expression, his words were spoken with a matter of fact tone. “However, the identity of the person who sent you does.”
“And what makes you so sure I was sent by someone? Maybe I’ve simply heard the rumors that Aaron Carmichael has become his father. Or, maybe it’s simply time for The Estate to be destroyed along with the evil that created it.”
He smiled, his voice booming when he responded, “You’re an assassin. That much is obvious!” Reaching up, he rubbed at his jaw where she’d hit him. “No woman hits like that and hasn’t been trained.”
A humorless laugh broke free of her throat. “Growing up in the shadow of The Estate is enough incentive for all women to be trained. Do you think nobody knows what goes on here? We notice the disappearance of our families, our friends. We can smell the bodies as they’re burned.”
He smiled. “You’ve done your homework. Congratulations.” Mockery weighed down his last word. He paused, his eyes twinkling as they moved over her. The timbre of his voice deepened when he calmly stated, “I can promise you, I will discover who you are, and while I’m at it, I’ll also discover who the fuck sent you. If you make my life easier by giving up the information now, I’ll make sure you are no longer breathing when you become one of those burning bodies.”
She was amused by his threat. “You can set me on fire right here, big guy, and end this bullshit game right now.” She winked. “I’ll never tell you a fucking thing.”
His chair flipped backwards when he stood, the thick wood striking the ground loudly as it fell. Within a second he was across the room, the tip of his nose pressed to hers. His hand squeezed her cheeks painfully from where he’d grabbed her face to force her eyes in his direction.
“We will find a way to make you talk — as soon as I find out who the fuck you are.” Slamming her head back so that it hit the wall, he turned and exited the room swiftly, leaving her chained. Her skin burned along her face from where he’d grabbed her. The room was silent except for the sound of rain hitting the glass ceiling of the circular room. She looked up, her eyes taking in the darkness of the night sky. The stars were no longer visible and the moonlight barely breached the clouds.
When the door opened again, Hope slowly looked down and found that the woman from the hallway had entered. She was surprised, but kept her expression blank. The pain in her shoulder had finally gone numb, and the blood stopped flowing due to her arms being held above her head.
“I want to see if we can remove the bullet from your shoulder.” Her voice was melodic, soft, but carrying a hint of strength unexpected of a woman so small.
Hope looked her over, noticing how she’d changed from the red dress into black pants and a simple green shirt. Their hair was similar in color, but, whereas Hope was tall and thin, this woman was short but curved in every place that mattered.
“I didn’t think you’d be much of a talker.” The woman sat down where Xander had previously sat. “I wasn’t much of one either when I first arrived, so I can understand — although I’m sure it is for far different reasons.”
Hope studied the woman’s face. Even though it had been years, she recognized her. “You’re the musician who went missing. I saw you on the news for days. I figured you were as good as dead when they found nothing except for a rose left in the parking lot outside of the theater.”
The woman smiled. “I’m surprised they left the rose behind. That sounds a bit sloppy for Joseph.” She let out a faint sigh, “And yes, at one time, I was her. But that was years ago and things change.”
Hope had to keep the woman talking in case there was a chance she could play on her sympathies. “What di
d they do to you?”
Her blues eyes blinked and she smiled. “To whom are you referring? Aaron and Xander, or The Estate as a whole?”
“Is there a difference?” Hope’s voice dripped with the hatred she felt. She’d lived her entire life fearing The Estate’s reach. Living in shadows, she’d been careful not to draw the attention of its members. Somehow, despite her efforts, it found her anyway.
“My name is Maddy, by the way.” She smiled warmly. There was nothing but kindness in her eyes as she reached for a box on the table.
“And this is where I’m supposed to be polite and tell you mine?”
“Not if you don’t want to. Xander will find that out. He’s very resourceful. I’m only here to remove the lead from your body. We’d hate for you to get an infection. Aaron is particular about that.”
“He likes to keep his slaves healthy?” Hope laughed. “That’s new.”
The woman’s eyes flicked up from the supplies she was gathering for a brief second. A blush fell across her cheeks from an unspoken thought. Eventually, after seemingly gathering what she required, she looked up again. “You’re not being kept as a slave.”
She stood from the table and crossed the distance, antiseptic and a cloth held in her hands. “I’m going to clean you up first, then we’ll see what we can do about the bullet.”
“Surgery will be difficult, don’t you think?” She shook the chains. “Given that I’m chained and all.”
The woman angled her head when she asked, “Would you like me to remove them?”
Suspicion tore through Hope’s body at the suggestion. She wouldn’t kill the woman if freed, but she would silence her in order to escape. Playing on Maddy’s sympathies, she responded, “Yes, please. I’m afraid of what they will do to me, afraid that they’ll …” She let her eyes fall, desperate to appear scared and nonthreatening. Looking up again, she continued, “… I’m afraid they’ll hurt me or rape me. Please help me get free.”
Straightening her head on her shoulders, Maddy took a few more steps, smiled and shrugged. “No problem. I’ll ask Xander for the key when I’m done cleaning you up.” Another smile.
Hope’s shock turned to frustration. “He’ll never give them to you.”
“I know, but if you’re going to make impossible demands, I’ll offer impossible responses.” She looked up into Hope’s eyes. “I’m not stupid. I’ve lived in this place for three years. Don’t you think I would have learned by now how your kind operates?” She pulled the coat away from Hope’s shoulder to inspect and clean the wound.
Hope flinched from the sting of the antiseptic on her skin, but stood still, allowing Maddy to tend to the wound. The bullet hadn’t struck anything vital, but infection would render her arm useless. She needed her body to heal if she had any chance of escape.
“I’d ask why you attempted to kill Aaron, but I think I have a pretty good idea. Not many people would attempt the executioner’s life. You’re very brave — or stupid.”
Hope looked down, confusion furrowed her brows and her eyes narrowed on Maddy. “You sound like you like it here. I saw how you touched him in the hall. You must be the type who likes being treated like a disposable toy.”
Maddy chuckled. She continued cleaning Hope’s skin when she responded, “It doesn’t matter what I like, only what he likes.”
Rolling her eyes, Hope suddenly recognized the weak spirit in front of her: completely pliable and easily conquered.
It was almost like Maddy knew what Hope had been thinking. “You remind me of him. Your darkness, I recognize the hatred and the rage. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that you enjoy your kills as much as he enjoys his. People like you need someone to look out for you, to pull you back from whatever black depth to which you’ve fallen. It would be a futile task if that person didn’t use something that brought you joy, don’t you think?” She looked pointedly at Hope but then smiled softly. “There. You’re clean, however I don’t think I’ll be able to remove the bullet without assistance. Does your arm hurt?”
Hope rested her head against the wall. “I don’t know. My arms have gone numb from the chains.”
“Oh, good. We won’t need to drug you then.”
Disbelief crept across Hope’s thoughts. “What the fuck is wrong with you people? How the fuck are you standing here like a fucking saint when you’re surrounded by death?!”
The door opened and Xander entered the room carrying a file in his hand. He looked surprised to find Maddy in the room, but his expression quickly returned to a blank canvas. Placing the folder on the table, he pushed it in Maddy’s direction. After packing up the supplies, she took the folder from the table and thumbed through the contents. Hope couldn’t understand why she was being treated with such high regard.
“I find it ironic that your name is Hope … especially considering that you have none.” His voice was amused, yet stern — a hidden warning within the mocking words.
Her eyes narrowed. “You know my name. Congratulations.”
“Actually, I know more than your name.” He leaned back against the surface of the table, his hands folded in front of him. Maddy put the folder down and reached up to touch his shoulder. The minute her hand connected with his body, his expression softened and he turned to look at her.
“Go easy on her, Xander. She’s a woman who finds herself in the same situation that we all have experienced at one point.”
He smiled at her, taking her hand in his to remove it from his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be here, Cricket. She’s a lot more dangerous than you realize.” Looking up, he met Hope’s stare. “Hope is a trained assassin, aren’t you? I suspected as much based on your behavior, but now I can say without a doubt who you are.” Looking back at Maddy, he motioned towards the door. “You should leave. I have a lot to discuss with our guest.”
Maddy silently nodded and left the room. Xander stood and stalked towards Hope. She noticed a slight limp to his stride and grinned.
“How’s the leg?”
Xander stopped, looking quickly at his leg before glancing back to her. “It’s better than your shoulder, I’m sure.” A crooked smile peeked out on his face, his humor evident in the glint to his eye.
Hope didn’t respond, allowing him to approach. Despite being chained, she wouldn’t relent or accept defeat. Too much weighed on her. Fearing that the men who took her sister had already learned of her failure, she was desperate to escape — but if she couldn’t, she wanted to inflict as much damage as she could on the bastard that stood before her. When Xander had stepped within range, she pushed off the wall with one foot, kicking out at his injured leg with the other.
He caught her foot. Angling his head, he grinned mischievously. His voice sounded like a growl when he teased, “Now, now, Ms. Delacroix, I’ve already discovered the strength of these …” His eyes burned a path up her calf and inner thighs. “… long legs of yours.” Tightening his grip, his fingers dug into the muscle of her calf. Out of reflex, she attempted to pull away but he tsked.
“I also learned that you have more weapons on you than I’d expected. Given your profession, I’m not surprised.” Stepping out, he trapped her other foot with his. Pushing forward he bent her leg up towards her body causing the muscle in her thigh to burn from the strain. Once he had her pinned, he used his hands to untie her boot. “I’ll have to perform a more thorough search to ensure I’m not injured again. I’m sure you understand.”
Contemptuously, Hope laughed. He was pressed so close to her, she could feel his heat brush across her skin. His cologne wrapped itself around her senses, mixed with another distinct scent — musk or sandalwood. Taking shallow breaths, she willed her body calm but noticed that her heart still beat wildly against the walls of her chest.
Lifting one hand from her leg, he pressed it against the artery in her throat. “Your pulse is racing. Is it from fear or excitement?” Chuckling, he returned his hand to her leg, running it up the ankle and calf slowly, his fingers digging i
nto the muscle as they passed. Despite the shiver the coursed through her body, she remained blank, expressionless while he performed his search. Her anger grew to know that he was stripping her of her clothes in an attempt to strip her of her dignity. She wouldn’t let it work.
Angling her head down, she pressed her forehead to his. “It’s good to see that my hopes and dreams will be fulfilled after all.”
His blue eyes shot to hers and the stubble on his jaw pulled across his face when he grinned. “I suggest you remain calm, Sunshine, we’re just getting started.”
Chapter Six
After examining one leg, Xander lowered it, trapping her foot under his, and bringing her other leg up to remove the boot and search for additional weapons. Although, he performed this search already while she’d been passed out, he did so again while she was conscious to show her who held the control between them.
She scowled at him as he ran his hand up her leg.
He smirked in response.
An assassin. She was a fucking assassin, and one who, for the most part, had kept her distance from any dealings with The Estate. Xander couldn’t understand why, now, she chose to attack. The file they had on her wasn’t thick, but what he did know was that Hope was raised within a much smaller and less powerful network. The only reason she’d even been noticed was because of the rumors that if there was someone out there who could compete against Aaron, it was she. They’d never been able to obtain anything more than a grainy image, but given her skill, Xander had taken a shot in the dark to connect this woman to the one discussed in the documents he’d found.
Her name had been familiar to Xander when he’d first discovered her identity. He’d heard of the woman who, like Aaron, seemingly enjoyed her profession too much. And he remembered a story about a woman bathing in the blood of her targets — who could calmly and quietly tear a man apart without so much as flinching at the act.
“It appears your legs are free of unexpected surprises, but what about the rest of you?” His blue eyes shot up to look at her, the corner of his mouth twitching from his attempt to hide a salacious grin.