by Stella Hart
I nodded. I was certain I’d never met him before, so there had to be some sort of rational explanation along those lines. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Okay, he’s kinda creeping me out now. No one stares like that unless they’re an ax murderer,” Katie said, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
I followed her, but not without giving the handsome stranger one last look. As we crossed the room and headed for a table filled with sparkling champagne glasses, I could still feel his eyes on my back.
I could’ve sworn I didn’t know him, but apparently he knew me, and he didn’t like me one bit.
I tried to put him out of my mind as Katie and I slowly sipped champagne and mingled with other guests. Willa drifted in and out of our vicinity throughout the night as she tended to all her party guests, ever the social butterfly.
After an hour or so, I began to feel a little lightheaded. It wasn’t from the champagne, because I’d only had one glass. It was the loud music and the crowds of elegant people, the vibrant gowns, the Venetian masks, the paintings adorning the walls; all colors and faces and voices twirling and twisting together like the inside of a kaleidoscope. I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was an outsider looking into this gilded world of shimmering perfection, and it made me feel dizzy and breathless.
“I think I need to go splash some cold water on my face,” I said to Katie and Willa, who had just rejoined us. “I’m starting to get a headache.”
“Oh, no.” Willa’s brows pinched together with concern, and she pointed toward the double doors we’d initially entered through. “Go out there, then head up the left staircase. There’s a bathroom a few doors down the hall on the second floor. It’ll be way quieter than the bathrooms down here, and there’s painkillers in the cupboards.”
“Thanks.”
I went the way she said, padding up the beautiful staircase on the left of the entry hall. The second floor was eerily quiet and fairly dim, lit only by a few chandeliers hanging here and there in the wooden-paneled hall. Clearly, Willa’s parents had told her to keep the party restricted to one floor only.
I tried the first door I came across, but it led into what appeared to be a study. The next one looked like it was entirely for book storage, lined with shelf after shelf but no chairs to sit on. Willa had said the bathroom in this upper wing was a few doors down the hall, so I figured it was probably the next room.
For a moment, I thought I heard sounds coming from somewhere nearby, but I figured it was just noise drifting up from the party downstairs. When I opened the next door—this one on the right side of the hall, just beyond a large oil painting in a heavy gilded frame—I got the shock of my life.
This was where the sound was coming from.
Stretching before me was a huge bedroom with a king-sized four-poster bed on my left, covered in a crimson and gold brocade duvet with matching cushions and pillows strewn over it. Dark wallpaper patterned with thin gold damask lined the room, and there was a roaring fire on one side in the carved stone fireplace. Above the ornate mantel was a large mirror with a strange symbol daubed on it in what appeared to be dark red paint. Somewhere else in the room, something—or someone—was playing a rhythmic chanting ritual song.
There was a chandelier light dangling from the center of the ceiling, along with other lights on sconces along the walls, but none of them were on. The room was lit entirely by the fire and several large flickering candles.
I gulped at the scene before me.
Two nude women were tied to the bed, their legs spread wide. They were blindfolded, so I couldn’t see who they were, but they were both moaning in bliss and writhing in pleasure, as much as their bonds would allow them to move. Three men in dark robes and black and gold bauta masks were with them on the bed.
One was roughly fucking the woman on the left, a gleaming dagger in his left hand, dangling precariously above her throat. Upon first glance, I thought I was witnessing an assault, but the woman was definitely moaning in bliss, her pleasured sounds punctuated by the occasional, ‘Oh, yes, yes!’ and ‘Harder!’
The second man on the bed was going at the woman on the right, and the third was hovering between them, groping every inch of the women’s skin, slapping their tits, and yanking their hair while he ostensibly waited his turn.
On the carpeted floor near the fire, another young woman was on her knees, her hands bound behind her back with black rope. She was topless, and the same strange red symbol I saw on the mirror was daubed on her chest. A masked man in a dark cape was standing above her, tipping some dark purple liquid into her mouth from a gold goblet.
His cock was sticking out of his pants, erect and ready, and when the woman had finished every last drop of whatever had been in the goblet, he roughly shoved his way between her lips, forcing her to suck him. Judging from the lusty expression in her eyes, that was exactly what she wanted to do.
Five other men were standing around the room, simply watching the proceedings. When I opened the door, only two of them looked up. The others were either too mesmerized by the ritualistic, orgy-like activities going on around them, or they simply didn’t care.
One of the men who looked over at me made my heart skip a beat. It was the guy from downstairs; the one who seemed to hate the mere sight of me. His mask was back on, but I could still tell it was him in the flickering candlelight.
I finally found my tongue. “Sorry, I… I was looking for a bathroom,” I stammered. Then I slammed the door shut and fled back down the hall, toward the main staircase. Lock the damn door next time, I wanted to shout back in the direction of the room, but I kept my mouth firmly shut. I didn’t want any of them to get angry and come after me with that dagger.
I heard footsteps behind me a moment later, and when I turned my head back over my shoulder, I saw the same guy who’d been staring at me earlier. He was following me. Maybe he simply wanted to explain to me what the hell I’d just witnessed, but honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it from him. Not when he practically looked like he wanted to kill me.
I pulled my mask back over my face and hurried down the stairs as fast as I could, then ran back into the main party room, quickly blending into the crowd. I found Katie standing alone near one of the back windows, checking out the view. Willa had presumably left to entertain other guests again, and there was no longer any sight of my mysterious stranger.
“Hey, how’s your head? Did you find the painkillers?” Katie asked.
I shook my head hurriedly. “No. I didn’t find the bathroom. I saw the weirdest thing when I was looking for it.”
Her brows knitted with curiosity. “What?”
I told her everything I saw, and her eyes grew progressively wider with each word. “Oh my god. That’s like, full-on Eyes Wide Shut stuff.”
I nodded vigorously. “I know, and it’s happening right now in that room up there,” I said. “Honestly, I can’t believe the door was actually unlocked!”
“Do you think Willa knows someone is having a wild sex party in her house?” she asked, craning her neck and peering over my shoulder, presumably trying to spot Willa so we could ask her.
I shrugged. “No idea. But it was really strange. Especially with the red symbols and the weird chanting stuff, not to mention the candles and goblets everywhere. Like… it clearly wasn’t just any old swingers party.”
“I knew super rich people were all hiding something sinister….” Katie said in a joking tone. Then her voice turned serious again. “Take me up there. I want to see.”
My brows shot up. “No way! Seriously, Katie, it was really creepy, especially the guy with the dagger. Please don’t go up there.”
She snickered. “Fine, fine.” She took a sip of champagne, then tilted her head to one side. “Hm. Maybe it was Crown and Dagger. I’ve heard all sorts of weird stuff about them.”
“Huh? Crown and what now?”
Katie’s mouth fell open. “You haven’t heard of them?”
“Er�
� no.”
“I swear to god you live under a rock sometimes. I mean, you’re going to Roden next year, and apparently that’s their recruitment ground. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of them.”
I waved a hand impatiently. “Okay, okay, I get it, I’m kind of a hermit most of the time. But who or what is Crown and Dagger?”
“Well, I don’t know if they really exist—it’s all just rumors—but apparently they’re some sort of secret soci—”
Katie’s sentence was abruptly cut off by a shrill scream from somewhere behind us. “She has a gun!”
Katie and I whirled around to see what the hell was going on. As we did so, we spotted a tall brunette girl slowly crossing the room, holding a black pistol. She was dressed in jeans and a gray hoodie, and her face was pale.
“I know they’re here somewhere!” she called out to no one in particular. “You’re all gonna pay for what you’ve done!”
She lifted the gun and aimed it in our direction.
Then she fired.
2
Tatum
The bullet whizzed far above our heads and shot right into the giant window behind us. Glass shattered in a cacophony of smashing and subsequent screaming, and sheer pandemonium broke out.
“You’re hiding them!” the girl with the gun screamed. There was a sharp pop as she fired another bullet, this time into the ceiling. “I know they took my sister!”
Around us, guests were shrieking and running toward the main door of the room, bodies crushing and writhing together like sardines in a can as everyone tried to get out as fast as they could. Katie grabbed my hand and dragged me along with her, heading along the left wall, which was slightly less crowded. Somewhere from our right, we could hear Willa screaming in the crowd, “I don’t know how she got in! Where the fuck is security?”
The girl fired another warning shot at the ceiling. This one hit a chandelier only a few feet from us. Glass and crystal shattered and fell to the ground, narrowly missing a guy’s head. In the aftermath of that, another guy slammed into me as he sped up, and I stumbled back against the dark paneled wall and inadvertently let go of Katie’s hand.
I couldn’t move for a few seconds as several more people rushed past me, blocking my path. I heard Katie screaming somewhere in the crowd. “Tatum! Tatum! Where are you?”
Then her voice drifted away, and she was gone.
With sharp, panicky breaths making my chest ache, I tried to catch up and finally made it out of the room’s main doors, into the entry hall. Some people were spilling out of the hall and onto the driveway through the front door, and others were dashing up the double staircase instead, opting to hide or barricade themselves inside the house as the mysterious girl with the gun made her way around, practically inducing heart attacks as she took slow, methodical steps through the place.
She was somewhere behind me. I could tell from the difference between her leisurely footfall and everyone else’s frantic scurrying. “Yeah, that’s right, fucking run!” she called out to the scattering guests. “You know who I’m here for! Go get those Crown and Dagger bastards and tell them their time is fucking up!”
I thought I spotted the back of Katie’s head in a group of guests who’d chosen to dash down the dark ground floor hall to the right of the staircase. I hastily followed. Seconds later, one of my cheap heels snapped under me, and I twisted my right ankle as I tripped and sprawled on the marble tiles.
Agonizing pain sliced through my foot and shot up my leg. I stuffed a hand in my mouth to stop myself from screaming and drawing attention to myself.
I barely registered what happened next. A pair of powerful arms suddenly yanked me up from the floor by my shoulders, and then I was dragged over to a cupboard tucked underneath the curling staircase. I hadn’t even noticed it was there before.
A deep male voice shushed me as I let out a surprised yelp. A hand came down over my mouth to keep me from making another sound as another tanned hand wrenched open the cupboard and stuffed me in, closing the door with a click. It was pitch black inside, but when the entry hall lights began to creep under the door and my eyes began to adjust slightly, I realized my rescuer had followed me in. I couldn’t see who it was, but I could just make out his silhouette. Tall, broad-shouldered, imposing.
“You okay?” he whispered. He was so close to me that I could feel his hot breath on my face and easily catch the spicy, heady scent of his cologne.
For a moment, I couldn’t reply. My tongue was tied out of sheer terror from the ongoing situation in the mansion, and I felt so dizzy I wondered if I might pass out.
“I’m Elias. You’re safe with me, all right?” the man went on, seemingly realizing I couldn’t respond just yet. “I saw you fall. Are you hurt?”
“I did something to my ankle,” I finally murmured back, tears springing to my eyes. “And my friend… I lost her.”
“What does she look like?” He crouched as he spoke, barely managing to do it given the confines of the cupboard. He touched his hand to my right foot and tentatively ran it over my ankle, pressing down in certain spots. “It’s not broken, by the way.”
“She’s short and skinny with wavy auburn hair. Has a black dress on,” I choked out. As terrified as I was, feeling this man’s warm hands on my ankle sent wild tingles through my system, making my pulse race even faster.
He rose back to his feet, towering over me. “Katie something-rather?”
“Yes. Do you know her?” I whispered.
“I know of her, through Willa. I saw her duck into a room with some others just up the hall before you tripped.”
“Oh.” I sucked in a deep breath and swallowed my tears. Katie was okay and all I had was a twisted ankle. Everything would be fine as long as I stayed hidden.
“So if you were here with Katie, then that would make you….” His suddenly-terse voice trailed off.
My eyes had finally adjusted to the dark cupboard well enough to make out certain details, and my heart skipped a beat as I looked up into the strikingly chiseled face of the man who’d picked me up and dragged me in here. The very same guy who’d been staring at me earlier. “It’s you,” I whispered.
He seemed to be in the middle of realizing the exact same thing. The expression in his eyes had gone from concern to flashing disdain, a dark storm brewing within their depths. “Tatum Marris. I didn’t realize it was you,” he said, all traces of worry removed from his voice.
“Have we met before?” I asked, letting a tinge of anger creep into my voice. Sure, this Elias guy had kindly helped me a moment ago, but he made it sound as if he would’ve left me out on the floor if he’d actually seen my unmasked face and realized it was me lying there in the hall.
“No. Never met,” he said stiffly. I could almost feel the fiery anger radiating off him.
“Then how do you know my name, and what is your problem?” I whispered harshly. “I saw you glaring at me earlier. And you followed me downstairs after I—” I clapped my hand over my mouth, not wanting to finish the sentence. How would I say it, anyway? ‘You followed me after I witnessed your friends in their weird orgy’?
“I make it my business to learn all about girls like you when they step into my world,” he replied, eyes narrowing in the dim light.
It could’ve been quite a compliment, I suppose, but coming from him in that venomous tone, it sounded more like a nasty insult. As if he could merely look at me for five seconds and know I wasn’t in the right place.
Growing up in this state, I’d met a lot of people like him before. People who genuinely believed you were born into a certain station in life and were forever trapped there, bound to your fate and unable to mix with anyone ‘above’ you. People who believed they deserved to be rich and successful because they’d ‘earned’ it by supposedly working harder, even though they were just lucky to be born with all the privilege and opportunity in the world which automatically put them twenty steps ahead of everyone else, while poorer people worked their ass
es off and still often made it nowhere. According to those kinds, someone like me was just lower-class trash, and I never missed the disdainful curl of their upper lips when they met me, as much as they tried to hide it behind fake, simpering smiles immediately afterward.
Obviously, not all uber-wealthy people were like that—take Willa, for example, who was kind and accepting of everyone—but my god, there were still a lot of them around these parts. It seemed the worse economic inequality got, the worse their smug personalities got along with it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I finally bit out, my cheeks burning and my arms quivering by my sides. “Girls like me?”
The air between us seemed to crackle with a mixture of forbidden chemistry and loathing. As much as I already detested this guy for being what I could only assume was an arrogant, elitist prick, I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach flipped when his stark gaze speared me. Couldn’t ignore the way he seemed to suck up all the air around him as if he owned the world.
His hand closed over my mouth again, engulfing me in heat and making me even more aware of his powerful masculinity. “Shut the hell up,” he muttered, leaning down so his lips were brushing against my left ear. A bolt of electricity shot through me. “Get down on the floor. Now.”
Slow footsteps were heading our way. I knew he was telling me to be quiet so that we wouldn’t be heard by the crazed girl with the gun, but his words still made me reel. It was a demand, an order, a command. He had no problem telling me what to do, and suddenly, unwittingly, I had no problem swallowing my retorts and doing exactly what I was told.
It made my knees weak and my stomach fill with butterflies as I forgot all about the ache in my ankle. This man made me feel powerless and dizzy, and he made me want to give up all control to him, body and soul. All with just a few words. I didn’t really know him and I certainly didn’t like him, yet when he spoke, something deep within me compelled me to do as he said. Let him make all the decisions. Please him.
