Before we left the Bricks, Houdini put earplugs in my ears and then led me out blindfolded. Stumbling around blindly made me appreciate Niko even more. Unexpected steps caused me to lose balance, and without being able to hear, I had to rely solely on Houdini’s grip leading me forward. At one point he picked me up in his arms, which hurt my shoulders since my hands were still cuffed behind my back. After what seemed like a long walk, he laid me down inside a tight space that smelled of rubber and oil. When the earplugs came out and the blindfold moved away, I blinked up at him hovering over me, his hair hanging loose.
Those hypnotic eyes…
Being charmed was like falling down a tunnel that led to an abyss, and the only sound was a singular voice that governed my thoughts, actions, and consciousness. Once caught in the spell, there was no fighting it.
After he spoke for a short period, I forgot every word of it and he placed the blindfold back on. I had a dreamlike awareness of him helping me out of the trunk and hearing the car drive away as I stood still, the icy wind blowing my hair back and snow soaking through my socks. It was as if I’d become stone and the world was happening all around me. My mind was empty, and the desire to think or even move was absent. Ice crunched against asphalt as the sound of a vehicle approached. When it stopped and the car door opened, I heard a familiar voice deep down in the caverns of my mind.
His English accent hadn’t changed. It didn’t sound like the voice of royalty but of someone who’d grown up on the bad side of town. “There’s my girl.” He planted an unwelcome kiss on my cheek, his wiry beard tickling my skin. “Let’s go.”
I had no sense of self or choice, and emotions didn’t exist. I knew what was happening and who I was with, but I felt no mental turmoil. It was as if I was detached from all emotion or sense of purpose. It wouldn’t last. That was the gift and curse of charming. Like a dream, my Creator took my hand and led me forward. When he put me into another car trunk and shut the lid, I instantly fell asleep.
Pain in my pinched wrists woke me up. But I wasn’t fully alert until icy water splashed me in the face.
I gasped and coughed, some of it having shot up my nose. When it trickled down my back, I shivered. Once I opened my eyes and looked around, I realized I was kneeling on a concrete floor with my arms raised over my head. Thick clumps of wet hair curtained my face. To remove the strain on my shackled wrists, I staggered to my feet. The manacles were attached to a single chain that hung from the wall—a chain with just enough slack for me to kneel but not sit all the way down. My muscles ached, and I flexed my fingers, which had fallen asleep.
“You cost a pretty penny, love.”
I slicked back my wet hair. Fletcher hadn’t changed in the five years since I’d last seen him. He still shaved his odd-shaped head, which he probably thought would disguise the fact he was balding. He made up for it by growing out that unattractive beard. The reddish-brown hairs were wiry, and his mustache covered his entire upper lip. He wasn’t a refined-looking man at all. Fletcher’s strong physique was marred by lines in his forehead and scars on his body that he must have acquired in his mortal life. The only redeeming quality about him was his deep-blue eyes. They were too beautiful for a man so cruel.
While he looked me up and down, I put my surroundings to memory in case he decided to blindfold me again. All the walls except the one behind me were cinder block, and the water he’d splashed on me was crawling toward a drain in the center of the room. Well, at least these accommodations were a slight upgrade from the last place he’d kept me. Instead of just a bucket of water, there was also a toilet off to my right. Minus the tank lid, of course. He’d set candles on the floor, out of reach. It would have been nice to have one close to warm my hands, because I could feel a cold gust of wind blowing through the open steel door behind him. It had a small window with metal bars at eye level, so it wouldn’t be any help keeping out the cold.
Leave it to Fletcher to make me feel right at home.
He drew closer and bent forward in a mocking bow. “Sorry your accommodations couldn’t be more… accommodating. Since you have friends who might be looking for me, here we are.” He slapped my cheek three times. “Wakey, wakey.”
I gripped the chain and raised my legs, kicking him in the stomach.
Fletcher stumbled backward but didn’t fall on his back like I’d hoped he would. Doubled over, he jerked his head up and stared daggers at me. “You’re going to pay for that, you bloody cunt.”
I kept a cool expression with a hint of a smile. I never thought I’d look into those soulless eyes again, and I didn’t want to give him an ounce of my fear. It was the one thing he fed on besides pain.
Had Houdini planned this all along? He couldn’t have known who the other bidder was. What if Christian had given up on me, and when things didn’t go as planned, Houdini wanted to make it seem like his idea?
What if Keystone had been a dream? Maybe my whole life for the past five years had been nothing but a psychotic break—a means to escape captivity.
“You’re an insolent Learner unworthy of my light,” he rasped, straightening his back.
“Let me go.”
“Oh, now you want to talk nicey-nicey.” The grin beneath his scruffy beard was barely visible. “You have the most succulent light of all, my little halfling. It was only a matter of time before we ran into each other. I’ve got big plans for you,” he said, wagging his finger at me.
“You’re such a fucking idiot. All this trouble—all that money spent—just so you can sip on my light? You can grab any rogue off the street, and no one will miss them. I would have been better off if you’d just left me in that morgue.”
“You would have been buried alive.” He straightened his back and cocked his head to the side. “In a human cemetery, you’d be lucky if a Gravewalker ever found you.”
He inched forward, and the moment he touched my chin, my fangs punched out. I no longer had Houdini’s bracelet blocking my gifts.
“You’re mine,” he said, a current of possession in his voice. “Kick me again, and I’ll take the toilet out of here. See how you like rolling around in your own shite.”
“I hope you wasted your entire fortune buying me. Your pride was always bigger than your brain.”
He pursed his lips and turned around. “You’re mouthier than I remember. I have a right cozy bed if you’d like to keep your mouth open.” He spun around and gave me a malevolent grin. Then he did that thing I hated where he stroked the front of his upper teeth with his tongue. “The man I bought you from said your name was Raven Black. I see you kept my name after all.”