Wicked Game

by Susan Harris

  I heard Edison grunt, and I forced myself to appear unaffected, my chains clanking as I folded my arms across my chest. Maxim stared at the chains as if he couldn’t believe I had to be forced to be here.

  “Did you know your prince is still looking for you? He must really care for you.”

  Maxim did this a lot—taunted me with Nickolai—as if mentioning him would shatter my control and I would fall to my knees and beg him to let me go.

  Instead, I closed my eyes and savored the memory of my lips pressed against Nickolai’s and the words he spoke, an unbreakable oath that would either be the end or the beginning of us.

  “I have loved you since before I understood what love was. I have loved you even when you could not love yourself, and I will love you until the end of time and then some. I will not stop, I will cross oceans and countries to find you, Ryan Skye Callan. Until my dying breath, I am yours and you are mine.”

  I felt a smile tug at my lips, and Maxim let loose a feral growl, knowing where my thoughts had gone. It was a subtle dig, an unnecessary way to wind up the rogue, but by Eve, it worked every bloody time.

  Letting the mask I’d perfected for years—the ice queen with no feelings—fall over my features, I shrugged and simply stood there, looking bored. The sounds of Edison being beaten died out, which meant they’d either grown bored or my friend had passed out.

  A moment later, Edison was dragged, unconscious, past the room, and I watched from the corner of my eye. Checking him over, a fist clenched my heart as I watched blood drip from his limp body, his hair already soaked in it. My eyes wandered back to Maxim, now standing as he buttoned his suit.

  Striding forward, he cupped my cheek, and it took all my willpower not to flinch.

  “I would ask you politely to come with us; however, I do not think you would.”

  Clicking his fingers, Maxim retreated, and his magical lapdog rose, letting out a sigh of annoyance as he came forward. My body shivered at his artic touch on my skin, my entire being on alert for what this monster would ask of me next.

  The creature with the face of a teenager spared a glance at Maxim. “The more I use my magic on her, the more you increase the chances of her mind splintering.”

  “Does that matter to you?” Maxim asked with a smirk.

  The boy shrugged his shoulders. “It matters not to me. I assumed it mattered to you.”

  Whatever magic he weaved on me must have hit me hard, because the next thing I knew I was waking up on a mattress on the floor of another locked room with no windows. Shaking my head to clear the cobwebs of magic that still lingered in my mind, I shifted, rolling over and sitting upright.

  Edison leaned against the wall, his breath coming in short gasps that indicated his ribs might be broken. His face was bloody and bruised, his eyes unfocused even as he tried to give me a small smile.

  “Five by five, Callan. I’m five by five.”

  I rolled my eyes as I crawled over to him. “I think I’d believe you more if it didn’t sound like your lungs might give out any second.”

  “Well, shit, Callan. Give a vamp a break—I’ve just had my head kicked in. My brain’s not actually working very well.”

  With a teasing smile I retorted, “Did it really work before, St. Clair?”

  Edison chuckled and then winced, pressing a hand against his ribs. “Damn, woman, don’t make me laugh.”

  “Suck it up, buttercup. You’re a royal guard.”

  I curled into him, gently resting against him, still amazed that I now trusted Edison St. Clair with my life. We had gone from enemies to friends to two people who were keeping each other sane.

  The first time Edison pulled me close, when I’d cried my heart and soul out after he was beaten the first time, I had been uneasy. The second time, I went willingly to comfort him. Now, we simply comforted each other.

  “Technically,” he began softly, his tone wistful, “I was never promoted to the guard. I was never called into Nickolai’s office and told I was part of it.”

  “Wait, Nickolai has an office?” I said, feigning ignorance. “I was never called into that office either, Edison. You are as much a royal guard as I am. Don’t doubt that.”

  “Damn, I must have hit my head harder than I thought because Ryan Callan is giving me a pep talk.”

  “Asshole,” I grunted with a smile tugging my lips.

  We sat in relative silence as tiredness washed over me, the prickling sensations of daylight alerting me to a new awareness. Most vampires were asleep during the day, taking advantage of that time to relax and rejuvenate themselves. However, Maxim liked to keep us on our toes, and both Edison and I knew the moment we let our guard down, they would pounce. I shuddered as I recalled the first time we’d both been so exhausted that we let down our guard.

  My eyes closed as fatigue sent my body into sleep, welcoming the darkness like a comforting old friend. I had barely succumbed to it when lights flared overhead and I jerked awake, scrambling up from the mattress as Edison did the same.

  It took time for my eyes to adjust to the now-overwhelming light, and suddenly I was drenched with glacial water, soaking me through to the skin and snapping me from my grogginess. Edison growled as they did the same to him, and the two of us stood there, dripping water as the rogues just grinned at us.

  Without another word, they fled the room as we both started forward, slamming the door before we could reach them.

  “Cowards!” I screamed as I beat my fists against the reinforced steel door.

  I shook the water from my hair and face as Edison sank back down on the mattress and huffed. There was no way either of us would sleep now.

  The lights started flickering, grating on my nerves as I paced the floor. Edison remained seated, the epitome of calm, while I wanted to kill something—preferably Maxim Smyrnoi.

  Edison groaned, bringing me back to the present. His breathing was worse than it had been a few minutes ago, and as frightened as I was of flying, I was absolutely terrified of losing Edison before this was over. I listened to his labored breathing and knew he might have a punctured lung. He needed blood to heal or it could cause some permanent damage.

  I sprang up off the mattress and pounded my fist on the door, ignoring the sound of my name on Edison’s lips. I beat my fists harder, calling out to whoever the hell was patrolling the halls that I wanted to speak to Maxim. Even when my arm started to ache, I kept on banging on the door until it quite suddenly opened and I almost punched a rogue in the jaw. If I hadn’t needed something from him, I would have.

  “Be a good little minion and get the organ grinder for me,” I demanded, folding my arms across my chest.

  “Maxim does not come running to you, little girl. You crawl to him.”

  The rogue went to grab me by the hair, and I ducked—not as quickly as I would have on full strength, but I managed to slip into the hall under the rogue’s arms. I tilted my head up at the whirring sound above me and spied the blinking red light of a camera.

  “Maxim get me some blood. Get me some blood and some food for Edison, and I will do what you’ve wanted me to do since you first forced us to come with you.”

  The camera moved as the rogue came at me with his shoulder, and I used his momentum to trip him, slipping my foot out and shoving him headfirst into the wall.

  There was no one else in the hallway. I could have tried to escape. I could have run. But I couldn’t leave Edison behind to die.

  Holding up my palms, I stepped toward the door, my gaze lifting to the camera once more. “I’m offering a one-time deal, Max. Bring Edison some blood and food. Show me you’re willing to deal, and I’ll have dinner with you. I promise. You know my word is good.”

  To emphasize my point, I stepped back into the room and closed the steel door behind me. My heart dropped to my stomach, and I wanted to vomit all over my shoes as Edison glared at me.

  “By Eve, Ryan, what the hell have you done?”

  2

  I was wonderi
ng the exact same thing as I slumped down the wall and blew out a breath. My hands were trembling, but the stubborn part of me pretended it was due to adrenaline and lack of blood rather than a sheer sense of dread.

  Struggling to regain my composure, I glanced at Edison and shrugged. “You need blood to heal, St. Clair, or how else are we going to get out of here? I, for sure, am not dragging your ass out of here while fighting off Maxim’s minions as well. Even I’m not that good.”

  Edison opened his mouth to speak but clamped it shut as the door swung open. I leapt to my feet and stepped in front of Edison, readying my fists to attack. A snarl slipped past my lips as I spied my least favorite minion step inside with food and blood on a tray. Cedric grinned at me with bloodstained teeth, and my fingers itched for a weapon.

  Cedric was the rogue Maxim had sent after I’d gone back to the Sanguine compound. He’d killed a young woman at Maxim’s command to make it known I could not hide out in the place that was my home without consequences. I’d promised Cedric I would come for him when he least expected it, and I always kept my word.

  Bending down to place the tray on the floor, Cedric nudged it closer to Edison, who, despite his hunger, glared at the bottle as if it were toxic. I knew Maxim wouldn’t want to poison me, not when I’d offered him the upper hand all wrapped in a bow. Leaning down, I picked up the bottle and uncorked it. My eyes latched onto Cedric’s, who didn’t relax his smirk as I sipped from the bottle.

  My own hunger roared in my head, and I fought to rein in the monster vying for control. I twisted the cork a little before handing it off to Edison, who downed the blood in about three seconds flat. Then I reached for the sandwich and took a small bite before nodding and handing the rest to Edison.

  One might say we were being paranoid, but after Maxim drugged Edison’s blood to knock him out once, we decided to be safer rather than sorry. I might be less beat up than Edison, and yes, I had been deprived of human blood for two weeks now, but I was confident that Maxim didn’t want me unconscious, so I tested the food.

  Cedric tossed me a plastic bag, grinning from ear to ear. “Boss wants you to wash and dress for dinner. I’m looking forward to watching you naked and wet.”

  Folding my arms across my chest, I quirked a brow. “I agreed to have dinner with Max; nowhere in that did I agree to dress up like a prized pony and prance to his beat.”

  “You will do as ordered.”

  I tossed the bag back at Cedric. “Make me,” I dared him, wanting to aggravate the bastard. Not only was I spoiling for a fight, I also knew Cedric would get in trouble if he bruised me up before I sat down with Maxim.

  Cedric stepped forward, ready to use brute force if necessary, as Edison growled behind me. One more step would bring us nose to nose. One of the other rogues grunted at Cedric, and the rogue’s features filled with rage and disgust.

  Oh, he wanted to punch me as much as I did him.

  Spinning round abruptly, Cedric stormed from the room, leaving the young rogue hovering by the door. Tucking a stray greasy hair behind my ear, I turned, crouching down to face Edison. It was strange to think that a few short weeks ago I’d despised Edison for his part in my miserable childhood, and now I trusted him as much as I trusted his older brother and mentor, Atticus.

  I would stop at nothing to reunite the brothers.

  Edison reached out, dragging me down into an embrace, his breath warm on my ear as he muttered, “First chance you get, Callan, you run. You hear me?”

  “Yeah, yeah. We both know neither of us would leave the other behind, and no matter how many times you try and order me about, St. Clair, I don’t follow orders very well.”

  “Dammit, Ryan, this is the first time you’ll be alone with the fucker. Slice and dice, soldier, and get your ass back to your prince.”

  My heart stuttered at the mention of Nickolai, and a thousand and one memories and feelings rushed through me as I ground my teeth together. I punched Edison lightly on the shoulder before I got to my feet and jerked my chin up.

  Motioning with my hand, I waved the rogue out. “Onward, Jeeves.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw the faint ghost of a smile on the rogue’s lips. Once outside of our little prison cell, the rogue waited for me to hold out my hands. Heavy chains were clamped down on my wrists and a blindfold was tied around my eyes, but I could still scent everything.

  Ordered to walk, I let my senses take over, that hyperawareness that came from years of training and watching my own back. I could hear the faint dripping of water, smell the decay of rotting wood from somewhere within the building. I felt the heat of the overhead lights on my skin. By the sound of his feet against the concrete, I knew the one guiding me by the manacles on my wrists was the quiet rogue who I’d almost made laugh. I also knew that Cedric, smelling of sweat and blood, was closer to my back than I would like.

  We walked for one hundred and twenty steps before grinding to a halt, the scent of food wafting from somewhere in front of me. My stomach growled. The blindfold was pulled from my eyes at the same moment I was shoved forward, and I barely caught myself before face-planting on the floor. Hands still shackled, I turned my body slightly, kicking out. My foot connected with Cedric’s stomach a second later and he doubled over, pure hatred in his eyes as he worked to regain his composure.

  Stupidly, he came at me again. The rogues all relied on their strength rather than skill, like a bull charging at a matador. I sidestepped Cedric, twisting so my back was to his, my arms stretched out behind me, the chain from my manacled hands wrapped around his throat.

  Cedric made to buck; however, I yanked my arms and he growled.

  “As entertaining as this is, I do not wish to ruin my appetite,” a voice drawled behind me, the husky sound so utterly familiar. Whipping the chains forward, I strode past Cedric, his face an angry shade of red that promised me a painful death. Without so much as sparing him a glance, I made my way toward Maxim and held out my hands.

  “You don’t expect me to eat with these on my wrists, right?”

  Maxim studied me for a curious moment, his red eyes holding my own lavender ones as he ran his fingers up the skin on my wrist. With the chains removed, I stepped back, taking the seat next to him as Maxim dismissed his guards, leaving us all alone.

  I inclined my head toward the retreating guards. “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “Do you plan on killing me, Ryan?”

  “First chance I get.”

  “I would expect nothing less.” His raspy tone held an admiration that was the reason I’d ended up a target of the self-proclaimed rogue king. His desire to make me his queen seemed to outweigh any common sense the vampire might have once had.

  “You declined to wear the dress offered to you.” It was a statement rather than a question. When I refrained from offering another response, Maxim poured me a glass of blood-laced wine, lifting the glass out for me to take. I shook my head, trying with words to remind Maxim that while he might have decades on me, I was still a seventeen-year-old girl.

  “I’m underage, Maxim.”

  Maxim smirked; his features strikingly handsome—if you liked murderous sons of bitches, that was. “I know you are fonder of whisky; however, this is a special vintage from my vineyard in France. It has quite a unique flavor. Much like you, I suspect.”

  I took the glass from his outstretched hand, swirling the liquid in the glass before taking a very unladylike gulp. I couldn’t deny that it tasted nice, yet I set the glass down and shrugged. “I’ve tasted nicer.”

  Maxim said nothing, but the tick in his jaw indicated I was getting under his skin. He rang a bell, and a female rogue with dyed crimson hair came in and set a bowl of tomato soup in front of me. I was so hungry I devoured the soup in a few spoonful’s, all the time aware Maxim didn’t take his red eyes off me.

  Once I finished, I let the spoon clang in the bowl as I leaned back in my chair and took in my surroundings. This room was not up to Maxim’s typical
flair, as if his rogues had rushed to put it together. The room looked like a basement, with hastily placed artwork and decorations scattered about. Weapons hung from the walls, from different origin countries. Maxim knew I liked weapons, and he’d watched me enough to know that a sword would impress me more than flowers. But he didn’t know I was just as much a sucker for romance as the next girl.

  That was a private part of me shared with only one other person.

  I pushed thoughts of Nickolai from my mind and lifted my gaze to Maxim. Appearing as if he were in his late twenties, Maxim was handsome, there was no denying that. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones harsh against skin darker than typical for a vampire. His lashes were long and fanned over his sharp eyes, and I wondered if his eyes had been the same color as his brother’s when he had been simply a vampire.

  “What color were your eyes?” I blurted.

  Damn me and my complete lack of impulse control. Then again, from the surprise in his features, I had caught him off guard, as if he had not been expecting such a personal question from me.

  Clearing his throat, Maxim took a sip of his wine before he answered me. “Brown. When I was a vampire, my eyes were brown.”

  Maxim didn’t look very much like his brother, the prickly Boris who hated me and whose beady brown eyes watched me all my life, waiting for me to fail. I tried to imagine what Maxim would look like without his rogue-red eyes but failed to picture it.

  “You don’t look much like Boris.”

  “Do the princes look like one another?”

  Huh, he had me there. While they had similar features, Nickolai and Kristoph were like yin and yang. I shrugged my shoulders and took a sip of my wine, not answering his question.

  Silence filled the air, and I sensed nervousness from the rogue leader. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table.

  “Tell me about you, Ryan.”

  If I’d have been drinking, I’d have spluttered and spat out the wine. The question was so normal, as if this were a date and we were getting to know each other. But I didn’t want Maxim to get to know me; I wanted to shred him into little bitty pieces.