by SM Reine
I didn’t know that this man had the ability to make such a promise, but it sounded like he meant it.
“Thanks,” I said again.
He left me alone, and I really felt alone.
VI
After further inspection, I determined that there was no chance I’d be wearing my stinky hand-me-downs from Chad again. I hadn’t just spilled alcohol on the corset. There was blood splattered on everything, too.
My blood. Like, from my right boob.
Gross.
Abandoning the plastic bag on the floor, I hunted for something else to preserve my modesty. I didn’t have to hunt long. The giant armoire was stocked with clothing that looked borrowed from Ravyn and her female companions.
Most of it was much too small for me, so I settled on a loose black dress that had probably been cut to fit Desdemona’s much more ample figure. It was pretty flattering on my shape. Its tapered waist showed off my hips, and it was long enough to hide the fact that I wasn’t wearing any shoes.
There was underwear in the bottommost drawer of the armoire, too. Everything looked clean, but I didn’t touch any of it. I could borrow a dress, I could even borrow a bra, but I couldn’t bring myself to borrow panties.
Once I was cleaned up, I took a look at the mirror on the armoire’s inner door. My reflection shocked me. The redhead in the mirror looked so much paler in the layers of black velvet, and the makeup smudged around my eyes just completed the look. I passed for just as gothic and strange as anyone else traveling with the band.
My own mother probably wouldn’t recognize me.
The dress whispered behind me as I opened the door and leaned into the hallway. I could hear voices in the mansion, but didn’t see anyone. That meant nobody could see me, either.
I needed to find a phone.
By now, Chad had to be wondering what happened to me. Hopefully he would have realized that it was out of character for me to vanish without him. I hated the idea of my friends and family panicking at my absence, but I wanted someone looking for me.
Sure, Donne had said that I was safe with him. And when I was gazing into those hypnotic golden eyes, I believed him.
I didn’t feel safe when I wasn’t with him. I felt more and more like a kidnap victim.
The phone could fix that. One call and Chad could rescue me.
I slipped down to the first floor. The entryway was still as scary and sword-filled as it had been when I arrived, but not only was it vacant of band members and groupies, there was no phone.
It sounded like the groupies were outside in the back yard, so I headed into the kitchen to keep searching. It was as resplendent as the rest of his house, though far more modern. Rage had stainless steel everything and glistening marble countertops. It almost looked normal in there. Almost.
Rage had a big wooden star hanging on the wall over one of his counters, its edges trimmed with drying herbs. I’d seen Wiccans at my college use five-pointed stars like that. They called them pentacles. It matched Rage’s tattoo pretty closely.
That wasn’t a normal kitchen decoration.
But the wooden star wasn’t the worst of it. No, the iron maiden in the corner had to be the weirdest feature. Because that totally belonged in a kitchen, right? How else could you drain your victims for blood pudding?
I was feeling kind of faint.
The voices of the groupies grew louder. A drugged-up bus orgy had left my kidnapping rock band with an appetite, and now they were heading in my direction.
Footsteps grew. Cloth rustled on the other side of the kitchen door. The handle turned.
I found a set of stairs leading to the basement and hurried down before I could be seen.
The air underneath the kitchen was cool and damp. Narrow windows allowed the morning light to filter through in dusty beams. I stopped at the bottom and stared at what I had found.
Maybe Ravyn and Rage weren’t witches, but they definitely believed they were witches.
The entire basement looked like some kind of dark church. The floor was inscribed with a massive pentagram similar in style to the kitchen decoration. Candelabras hung from the ceiling with actual freaking candles in them, like the kind you have to light with fire, not the kind you turn on with a light switch.
A table stood in the middle of the pentagram, flanked by two statues at either end. One of them was a man (a very naked, very well-endowed man) with horns emerging from his curly hair. The other was a pregnant woman with no face.
That table was big enough to accommodate a human sacrifice once she was done being juiced by the iron maiden upstairs.
Chills rolled over me. Once I started shaking, I couldn’t stop.
“What are you doing down here?”
Donne stood on the stairs at a few steps above me, tall and frightening, and yet such a welcome sight. He must have seen me coming down the stairs and followed.
I couldn’t think of a good excuse for being there, so I didn’t try to give him one. I did feel the silly urge to apologize, even though I was the kidnap victim and shouldn’t have felt sorry for anything, thank you very much.
Donne strode down the stairs and seized my arm. “You shouldn’t wander.”
“Why? Because I’m supposed to be locked up in my room?”
His brows furrowed. “Because it’s a large house and you could get lost. Graham didn’t try to lock you into your room, did he?”
“No, he was nice. Perfect gentleman.” Unlike the rest of you, I added silently.
I’d thought that complimenting Graham might have endeared me to Donne somehow, but his expression darkened. He actually looked kind of…jealous?
“Do you like Graham?” Donne asked, the words a low growl in his chest.
Who in the world cared? I was stuck in a house with some crazy occultists miles away from home. Unless I managed to catch a flight that night, I was going to miss finals. It didn’t matter if I liked Graham or not. I was terrified.
My trembling didn’t escape Donne’s notice. He engulfed me in his arms. He didn’t give me any words of reassurance, but his presence was more than enough.
As soon as he was holding me, the tension eased out of my muscles. My heartbeat slowed. The fear that had constantly gripped me since waking up that morning alleviated.
I sighed and sank against him.
Footsteps shuffled on the stairs. I looked over Donne’s bicep to see that Rage was watching us.
“Careful,” Rage said.
Donne’s arms tightened around me. “I know.”
“Don’t let yourself start thinking—”
“I know.” It ripped out of him as a growl.
Once Donne’s calm was broken, so was mine. I buried my face against Donne’s chest, inhaling his woodsy scent, trying to lose myself in the reassuring enormity of his presence.
“Desdemona’s preparing brunch,” Rage said. “Come on up.”
It wasn’t a suggestion, but Donne didn’t immediately move. Neither did Rage.
I could feel the singer watching us. Waiting for obedience.
Finally, after an eternity, Donne grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs.
The smell of baking food made my stomach growl. It had been something like sixteen hours since I had put anything that wasn’t a mixed drink into my stomach, and I was starving.
The band’s bassist grinned at us when we entered. It was a disarming expression on a guy wearing studded leather and a dog collar. “Hey guys. Hungry?”
“Always,” Donne said.
“Good thing I’m already cooking!” He was using a pair of pink oven mitts to put several sheets of miniature pizza bagels into the oven.
A giggle slipped out of me.
“What?” Donne asked, frowning.
I couldn’t seem to stop giggling now that I’d started. “Mini pizzas? Really?” There was nothing remotely scary about miniature pizza bagels. That was high school comfort food, not cult food.
And the bassist was wearing fluffy oven mitts.
Donne didn’t seem to think the juxtaposition was as funny as I did. He didn’t crack a smile.
He pushed me into the dining room. The main feature was a huge table that would have suited a medieval castle, which matched the candelabras nicely. Actually, since I was wearing my very own gothic princess dress, I matched too.
Nobody else was there yet. I could see everyone sitting on the patio outside, waiting for the freaking pizza bagels to be finished before they moved inside.
“Stay here,” he said, pointing to one of the chairs. “Don’t move.”
When Donne used that tone of voice on me, I couldn’t imagine disobeying. It was embarrassing how quickly I nodded in agreement.
Donne went outside.
And as soon as he was on the patio, I started looking around the dining room for a phone.
The wall was covered in several swords, like those in the entryway. I touched the blade of a knife gently. It was so sharp that it immediately sliced into the top layer of skin. With a gasp, I shoved my thumb into my mouth.
Those were not decorative.
A recessed part of the wall caught my eye. There was an antique bookshelf inside of it that fit perfectly and a lot of old books with cracked leather spines.
One of the shelves was occupied by something much more modern, though.
A phone.
Victory!
Glancing over my shoulder—nobody in sight—I yanked the receiver from the cradle. My fingers flew over the number pad.
“Come on, Chad,” I whispered, leaning to check the rest of the room. The supposed witches were still outside. Who knew how long that would last?
My friend picked up on the fifth ring, right before his voicemail could answer for him. “Hello?” Chad sounded groggy. I bet he’d had an exciting night of his own, although it would have had to involve an entire sexy circus to be more exciting than mine.
“It’s Leah,” I whispered. “I only have a second. I’m with the band.”
His voice grew sharper. “What are you talking about? Where are you?”
“I told you, I’m with the freaking band. The Forbidden. They dragged me off last night on the tour bus with them.”
“Oh my God, Leah!” He sounded so excited for me.
I shushed him. “I didn’t choose to go with them. Okay? They took me to the bus and—and—it doesn’t matter what happened after that, but now I’m in California with them. They’ve taken me to the lead singer’s house against my will.”
“You mean you don’t want to be there with the sexiest singer to ever groan out mopey rock music?” Chad asked. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m not a party girl, you know it’s not like that! And it gets weirder.” Before I could go on, I heard a door open and close. I had no idea who it was. I didn’t dare look. “Meet me at the next concert. Please? I need someone to help me escape.”
“The next concert’s in Los Angeles, Leah.”
“Please, Chad. I’ll pay you back for your travel costs.”
He must have finally recognized the genuine fear in my voice. “Okay. I’ll come get you. Jeez, don’t have kittens.”
I rushed out a quick, “Thank you,” and then I hung up.
When I spun, I found Ravyn standing behind me. I was just relieved that it wasn’t Donne again.
Had she seen me using the phone? If she had, she didn’t show any sign of it.
“Hungry?” she asked, tugging me away from the phone using the top layer of my skirt like a leash.
My stomach growled in response. “Starving.”
“Then you’re in the right place,” Ravyn said with a big smile. “Why don’t we get you fed, Kitten?”
VII
By the time the bassist—who claimed his name was Hardwicke—was done making a mess in the kitchen, we had more than pizza bagels. We also had Hot Pockets, Pop-Tarts, and every other kind of easy-to-heat junk food on the face of the Earth.
It was like partying with the stoner frat house at OSU.
I was in heaven.
Donne watched me from the side of the dining room as we ate. His arms were folded over his chest as he frowned at me with pretty intense disapproval. He hadn’t eaten a single thing that Hardwicke offered.
For all that he traveled with the band, he was definitely not part of the family. His aloofness was almost painful to see.
I wanted to join him against the wall just so that he wouldn’t be alone.
But Ravyn and Storm kept me engaged in conversation as we ate, and they were too engaging to leave. They kept asking me about my life, where I went to school, what I was planning to do after graduation, the things that I liked to do for fun.
“You can’t like reading books for fun,” Storm said, interrupting me for the first time.
I licked the crumbs of a frosted strawberry Pop-Tart off of my fancy square plate. “But I do. I just finished my seventh reread of The Count of Monte Cristo last week.” Honestly, it was even better the seventh time than it had been on my first read-through.
“Dumas for work, Dumas for fun.” Ravyn shook her head. “Good thing you stumbled across us when you did. You are obviously in desperate need of a life.”
There was nothing wrong with Dumas. “I have a life.”
“A boring life.” Storm pinched my cheek. “You’ll be much happier now.”
They talked like I was suddenly part of the family. Like I wasn’t returning to college ASAP and trying to forget that any of these people had seen me drunk, half-naked, and orgasming on a tour bus.
My smile faded. “Look, you guys…”
“I know.” Ravyn rested her hand on top of mine. “Don’t worry about it.”
Donne caught my eye against the wall again. I wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t doing anything to attract attention.
He was just…magnetic.
I forced myself to look away from him and his scowl. Not that I was a mind reader or anything, but that scowl sure made it look like Donne hated me.
Once I refocused on the conversation around the table, I found myself laughing at the coven. They were so crazy.
Wintersong climbed up on the table to tell a story with her whole body, arms in the air, hips wiggling, and I didn’t understand what she was talking about but I still laughed.
It seemed impossible that these fun, happy people—most of whom wouldn’t have been out of place at my college—could have been involved in dark stuff like witchcraft.
They all seemed so…normal.
A hand settled on my shoulder. At this point, I was getting pretty familiar with Donne’s touch. I melted into it, bowing my head so that my cheek rested against his knuckles.
At the sight of him, Ravyn groaned. “Daddy’s back. Seems like the fun’s over for now.”
“Rage wants the coven in the basement to discuss the next moon.” I moved to get up with the others, but Donne’s hand tightened. “Not you, Leah. You need to go to your room and rest.”
I didn’t have the strength to protest. Now that I had a full belly, I was exhausted.
Donne guided me out of the dining room, into the entry hall, past the swords, and up the stairs. He hovered over me much more closely than Graham had when taking me to my room the first time.
It seemed that getting caught wandering around the house meant I’d lost my right to be independent for the moment.
“When do I talk to Rage again?” I asked when we reached the door to “my” bedroom.
“When he has time,” Donne said.
He tried to step forward to open my door, but I blocked his path with my body. “What’s more urgent than addressing the kidnap victim on his second floor?”
He glowered. “Don’t be melodramatic. We didn’t kidnap you.”
“You’ve taken me without my consent,” I said. “What’s that usually called? Hmm, let me try to think of the word.”
“We need your help, Leah. You’re the guest of honor.” He leaned around me to push my door open. The gesture brought our bodies
close until I could feel the heat of his skin against my chest.
I forgot that I had been planning to go into the room. I gazed up at him, just inches away, and licked my lips.
His eyes dropped to my mouth.
For an instant, I could imagine what I wanted to do to him so vividly that I could almost feel his skin against mine.
I would grab his shirt, drag him into my bedroom, and slam the door. I’d throw him onto that massive four-poster bed. Or, at least, I’d try to throw him, even though I had the upper-body strength of a blueberry scone and he was practically Goliath.
The way that Ravyn had ripped Rage’s pants open the night before flashed through my mind. I wanted to do the exact same thing to Donne. Forget about being the good girl soon-to-be-graduate student. I wanted his erection in my mouth, and I wanted to take all the time in the world figuring out how to make it feel amazing for him.
I might not be very good at first, but like everything I’d learned in school, I was sure that practice would make perfect.
As if he shared in my momentary vision, Donne’s whole body tensed. He grabbed my arms.
Oh my goodness. This is really going to happen.
My hands lifted toward his shirt. I couldn’t wait to see what was underneath again.
But Donne backed away too quickly for me to pull his shirt off, and I was left cold in the doorway.
Worse, he looked furious at me.
I hung my head so that I wouldn’t have to see how angry he was. I wasn’t exactly one of the sexy, skinny girls that traveled with the band, but I didn’t think I was that bad.
“Guess I’ll see you later,” I told the floor.
Donne didn’t respond to me.
He was gone.
My bedroom wasn’t locked, so it seemed like Graham and Donne’s assurances that I wasn’t a prisoner were basically true.
Even so, I didn’t really feel like trying to explore the house again. Where would I have gone? I’d slept through the bus ride and had no idea where the house was located, aside from the fact that it was on a beach somewhere on the northern end of California.
I could have been on the edge of town or miles from the nearest civilization. Either way, I didn’t have a car, and I couldn’t walk far in Desdemona’s fetish shoes.