Crimson Kisses: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Marked Souls Book 1)

by Sabrina Shelley

  I can hear a faint chuckle rise from his throat. “Then why did you kiss me back?”

  Behind us, Dr. Belmont clears her throat.

  “If you’re finished.” She purses her lips and pulls on her black leather gloves, stifling the glow of her palms. “Really, Commander North—you should have warned me.”

  Now when Xander chuckles, it’s at Dr. Belmont’s expense. “And take all the fun out of it? I wouldn’t dare.”

  Dr. Belmont doesn’t laugh back. Instead, she purses her lips and motions somewhere in the darkness behind her. In response, a pair of headlights flick on as a sleek, dark Regime car purrs to life.

  “Commander North, huh?” I bristle as Xander’s palm presses against the small of my back, guiding me toward the car. His other hand is on my wrist still, holding it tight. “You’ve done well for yourself since you arrested me.”

  “Because I arrested you, actually.” There’s a glimmer of pride in Xander’s voice. “The Regime was quite pleased. Powerful witch like you. Loyal, Regime-serving Guardian like me. And instead of falling in love with you and running away together, I turned you in. I imagine the Chancellor nearly pissed himself in glee when he heard.”

  “Falling in love?” With me, no less. I’ve never heard anything more ludicrous in my fucking life. “I don’t think you’re capable of that, Xander.”

  “So I’ve heard.” He opens a door to the car’s backseat for me and motions me inside. “But maybe someday I’ll surprise you.”

  As I slide into the car, it hasn’t escaped me that my attempt at freedom has been thwarted with what looks like the same amount of effort as it might take to brush my teeth in the morning. Dr. Belmont takes the passenger seat next to a driver who looks an awful lot like Cassandra’s sadistic prison guard. Xander slides into the seat next to me. With his hand placed protectively—or possessively—on my knee, the car lurches forward into an easy, steady roll down a dirt road I didn’t realize existed.

  No one says anything, because no one needs to.

  I’ve been caught so handily and with such fucking ease that it’s like they expected me to escape.

  Actually, remembering what Dr. Belmont said earlier—it’s almost like they wanted me to.

  “So you’re Miss Bright’s Guardian, then.” Dr. Belmont breaks the silence first.

  “I am.” Xander squeezes my knee and smiles down at me, obviously pleased with himself.

  “And you have the mark to prove it, I presume?”

  “I do.”

  Still holding my gaze, Xander takes my palm and touches it to the breast of his uniform jacket. Against the metal of his decorations, I feel my palm glow—and with the next breath I draw, I can feel his heart beat syncing with mine.

  “You should have told me.” I can hear the agitation in Dr. Belmont’s voice. “It was a security risk not to do so. Honestly, I expected more of you, Commander North.”

  “My apologies,” Xander says, and for a moment, I see his face shift in the dark. One moment, he looks like Xander—high cheekbones, dark hair beneath his officer’s cap, a roman nose, dark eyes. The next moment, he looks like the guard whose badge I’ve been spitting on for the last several days. He winks at me, and just like that, he looks like Xander again. “Had to keep an eye on my girl.”

  “Not to interrupt your in-fighting—” I shoot Xander a sour look. “But where exactly are you taking me?”

  Dr. Belmont makes a small, pleased noise at the question. “Oh, Rory. That’s the best part.”

  She points forward with one slender, gloved finger and I follow it with my gaze to the road ahead. The headlights illuminate the crest of a hill—and when we come over it, something that looks like a small town is spread out at the bottom of it.

  It strikes me how risky it is, keeping a prison for twenty-something girls with glowing hands and magical powers so close to a town like then—but then, Dr. Belmont motions with her finger again and I look on further.

  My mouth goes dry when I see the wall.

  It extends all the way around the proximity of the town and reaches far behind us. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it must encapsulate the prison I was being held in, too. Even from a distance, it looks impenetrably thick and impossibly tall. Big, lighted guard towers are interspersed along each side, with barbed wire protecting all the space in between.

  “Don’t look so glum, sweetheart.” Xander strokes my cheek with his thumb affectionately. “You’ve done exactly what we wanted—you should be proud.”

  But I don’t feel proud. I feel fucking defeated.

  I didn’t escape from prison at all.

  I broke out of one cage—right into an even bigger trap.

  Inside the town, the driver directs the car to an ominous-looking building with glossy black windows. Xander offers me his arm as he helps me out of the car and keeps me close to him as he guides me inside. For a moment, I catch our reflection in the windows of the lower level. Xander looks handsome as ever in his dark, starched officer’s uniform. As for me…maybe his good looks are catching, because I barely recognize myself on his arm.

  I look thinner than normal—hunger protests will do that to a girl, I guess. But somehow, my hair looks glossier, and there’s something brighter about my green eyes. Even the frumpy black smock with the number stitched into it looks a little less shapeless while I’m at Xander’s side.

  Which doesn’t change anything. Pretty or not, I’m still trapped like a rat.

  Dr. Belmont disappears down the hall as Xander leads me to a room. It’s dimly lit with just a table and a few chairs on either side. There’s a big, broad mirror along one wall that I don’t dare glance into—seeing myself reflected in the window was more than enough for my vanity to handle for one day.

  Instead, I watch Xander pour scorched-smelling coffee into a little Styrofoam cup. He brings it over to me and motions for me to take a seat. When I reach for it, he catches my wrist before I can take a sip.

  “Careful,” he warns, and my palm throbs at the coolness of his touch. “It’s hot.”

  “Since when have you cared about my safety?” I watch the steam rise from the cup.

  “That’s rather cruel, Rory. Your safety has been my only concern since the night we met.”

  I don’t like thinking about that night. It was only a few days ago, so it’s still fresh in my mind—but still, it’s a night that I’d rather forget.

  “Handing me over to the Regime? Was that about my safety—or was it about your promotion? You got some fancy new medals and a pay raise while I starved in a cell for three days.”

  “I brought you food. You just didn’t eat it. Which reminds me…”

  Xander holds up a finger—one minute—and disappears out the door. I try the handle when it closes behind him, but no dice—it’s locked.

  When he returns, he has a cellophane wrapped sandwich for me. I cross my arms over my chest and stare at it blankly, but it’s obvious that Xander isn’t having it.

  “Eat,” he commands. “Dinner’s over, but there’s always food around here if you’re hungry. I didn’t pose as your guard in that shithole for three damn days to see you starve to death.”

  I narrow my eyes at him but reach for the sandwich and unwrap it. It looks like turkey and cheddar on rye, topped with surprisingly still-fresh spinach and smeared with something that smells like cranberries mixed with mayonnaise.

  I devour it so fast, I might as well have inhaled it. It tastes better than anything I’ve ever eaten in my life.

  “Good girl,” Xander says, sliding into the chair next to me. “There’s more and better where that came from, too. You might have starved in the city, but here, you’ll eat what you like.”

  “Great.” I ball the wrapper up in my fist. “Sure, you’re in prison, but at least the food’s nice.”

  I go to toss the ball at the mirror, but Xander catches my wrist before I can. “You have to trust me, Rory. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t the safest place for yo
u.”

  “Safe from what?”

  “Yourself, mostly.” Xander turns my wrist over, gazing idly at the markings on my palm. They always seem to glow gently when I need them to—even more so when he’s near. “You have no idea what kind of power you hold inside you, Rory. We only want to help.”

  “At the cost of my freedom,” I snap at him. “I’d rather not pay that price.”

  “If you think you were free in the city, you’re kidding yourself.” He raises my palm to his lips, pausing only inches away from a kiss. “May I?”

  His dark eyes stare into mine with seriousness. I lower my brows into a scowl.

  “You may not.”

  Xander places my hand gently back down on the table and leans back in his chair as Dr. Belmont re-enters the room.

  “Rory Bright.” Dr. Belmont smiles down at me, tight-lipped, and spots the ball of cellophane in my hand. “I’m glad to see you’re eating again. Is there anything else I can have Commander North fetch you?”

  I consider it for a moment. “The key to that door and a car back into the city, for starters.”

  The smile dies on Dr. Belmont’s red lips. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. You’re looking at this all wrong, Rory.”

  “Am I? The prison smock, the jail cell and the armed guards sure did have me fooled.”

  Dr. Belmont lowers herself into the chair across from me. “Your time spent in Eastwatch Prison was an unfortunate necessity. We needed to see what you were made of—and you’ve performed admirably.”

  I blink at her, listening to the confirmation of everything I’ve been fearing.

  My escape wasn’t an escape at all.

  I was playing right into their hands the whole time.

  “The Regime only wants the best witches in their employ, Rory,” Dr. Belmont prattles on, either oblivious to the effect her words had on me or just completely uncaring. “If you can’t utilize your magic to escape from—let’s be honest, now—a low-security jail cell, then you certainly can’t utilize it for the good of our citizens.”

  “For the good of the Regime, you mean.”

  Dr. Belmont and Xander share a loaded look.

  “I might argue that those things are one and the same, Rory.” Dr. Belmont stares at me with her icy blue eyes like she’s waiting for me to challenge it.

  I let it go. For now.

  “So.” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms firmly over my chest. “The Regime wants to hire me.”

  “We want you in our employ, yes.”

  “Why should I accept?”

  Xander scoffs and stands, looking at me like I’ve just said something dangerous.

  “It would be in your best interest to accept,” Dr. Belmont informs me.

  “And if I don’t?”

  Xander gives me another look—Careful, Rory—but Dr. Belmont only straightens in her chair.

  “Then your powers will be removed, and you’ll be returned safely to society where you can do no harm to others—or to yourself. Of course.”

  I look to Xander and know in an instant that it’s a lie.

  “Of course.” I uncross my arms and place my palms face-down on the table. “And the other girls in—what did you call it? Eastwatch?”

  The smile returns to Dr. Belmont’s lips. “They’ll be given a few more weeks to utilize their magic to facilitate their own escapes. Failing that, they’ll return to the city.”

  “Without their powers.”

  “Correct.”

  I feel like I’ve stumbled into some kind of life-sized chess game where I’m just a useless pawn going up against a queen.

  And I don’t even know how to play chess.

  If Xander really cared about me, he’d be helping me out here. There’s a way out of this, I’m sure—a way out that doesn’t involve kowtowing to the Regime’s whims or whatever happens if I refuse. I just don’t know what it is yet.

  But Xander is of no help. He’s pacing on the side of the room closest to the door with an arm across his ribcage and his knuckles pressed to his lips. Apart from occasional glances my way—none of them conveying anything good—he doesn’t interject.

  Thanks a whole fucking lot, I think hard as I scowl at him.

  If he has anything to say for himself in return, he doesn’t say it out loud.

  I turn back to Dr. Belmont. “And if I accept?”

  Her smile widens. “Then Xander and I—and the other experts at this facility—will assist you in learning the full magnitude of your powers. We will instruct you on how to use them safely, assist you with any problems that should arise along the way, and train you to utilize them as the Regime deems fit.”

  “That’s very generous of you.”

  “It’s not generosity, Rory.” Dr. Belmont’s gaze is suddenly serious. “You’re aware of what happened to your mother.”

  I swallow. Hard. “I am.”

  “You’re aware that we believe your power to…significant.” She’s choosing her words carefully now as she nods to my hands. “Most witches require one Guardian to keep them safe from their own capabilities. You require five. I believe it’s safe to say that the only reason you’ve succeeded in avoiding personal harm so far is luck. It’s fortunate that you and Commander North met each other when you did.”

  The glance Xander gives me is only fleeting—but Dr. Belmont sees it just the same.

  “Tell me, Commander North—how did you and Miss Bright meet?”

  He grunts, scowling for a moment before lowering his hand from his lips. “She was out past curfew the night before her arrest.”

  “Many witches feel the same urge,” Dr. Belmont tells me, reaching across the table to lay an icy-cold hand over my own fingers. “There’s just something about us that makes us drawn to the dark.” She turns to Xander. “This is when you were an officer of the Night Watch?”

  “She’s lucky I caught her before someone else on the Watch did. Her powers were flaring up—rampant. Popped half of the street lights on the block before I got to her.” I catch a glint in Xander’s eyes. “Poor thing passed out in my arms.”

  I give him a look, but he’s ignoring me.

  I didn’t go passing out in anyone’s arms that night—the asshole grabbed me while I was running from his buddies, pressed his fingertips against my forehead and used something—magic of his own, maybe?—to knock me out cold.

  What he just told Dr. Belmont is a lie.

  “So you took her home.” Dr. Belmont looks impressed. “That was kind of you.”

  “I suspected she might be…mine.” Now it’s Xander who’s choosing his words carefully. “The next night, her magic flared up again—enough to show up on the Watch’s radar. I ensured that I was the first to the scene.”

  Dr. Belmont’s pink tongue slides across her red lower lip with interest as she turns her gaze to me. “And what were you doing when Commander North arrived, Rory?”

  I swallow hard again, hoping that my brain will come up with a good lie to let out before I open my mouth. I choke out the first thing that comes to mind.

  “Taking a bath,” I lie. Badly.

  Xander finally makes himself useful, picking the lie up where I left off. He chuckles loudly, giving me an impassioned look. “Ah…that’s a delicate matter, Doctor. But I like to imagine she was thinking of me while she was doing it. Or at least, I hope.” There’s something dirty about the way he says it that makes me lower my eyes and blush.

  Dr. Belmont presses her fingers to her lips to stifle a bawdy laugh. “Oh…oh my. No need to blush, Rory.” She and Xander share a knowing glance. “It happens to the best of us while…ah.”

  Dr. Belmont dips to her briefcase, taking the opportunity to look for a paper while she waits for the awkward moment to pass. I glare up at Xander while she does it.

  Did you just imply that you walked in on me…masturbating?! I mouth at him.

  He merely shrugs and looks pleased with himself. You can thank me later, he mouths back.

&
nbsp; Dr. Belmont clears her throat, straightening in her seat with a thick, parchment-colored sheet of paper in hand. “It’s a good sign that you’ve already met your first Guardian at any rate, Rory. With our help, we should be able to find the other four in good time.” She slides the paper across the table to me, a teasing look in her eyes. “You have to understand, Rory…Five Guardians. It’s very unorthodox. I do hope that Commander North isn’t the jealous type.”

  I ignore her, looking down to the piece of paper instead. There’s a lot of mumbo-jumbo and legalese written on it in a difficult calligraphic script, but I spent enough time working at the library and poring over old documents that I get the gist of it.

  Dr. Belmont offers me a heavy, silver-tipped fountain pen and I eye it warily.

  “These are enlistment papers,” I say slowly, furrowing my brow. “For…”

  “For life.” Xander says the words that I can’t quite choke out.

  For life. There’s no going home after this. No finding Drew. No settling down or getting married or having a family. No…anything.

  Just me. My magic fucking hands. Xander, who I’m not even sure I like, and four other men who I haven’t even met.

  Doing the Regime’s bidding.

  Until the day that I die.

  “Sign whenever you’re ready, dear.” I’ve never seen Dr. Belmont’s smile more saccharine.

  I lay the papers down on the table and—mimicking Xander—offer her a bored shrug.

  “Not interested.”

  If Dr. Belmont had been sipping her victory wine, she would have choked on it.

  “Excuse me?”

  “No thank you.” I push the papers back to her. “While I appreciate your gracious and generous offer, I’m afraid I have to decline.”

  Dr. Belmont has always had an icy gaze. Like a winter night wrapped in a wet blanket with no heat. So it seems impossible that her eyes could ever become colder…but in an instant, they do.

  “Commander North,” she says, staring at me like she’s trying to freeze my blood in my veins. “Why don’t you bring in our guest now?”

  Xander shoots me a look that might be the closest thing to an apology I’ve ever gotten from him and leaves the room for a moment. The silence he leaves behind him is so thin and so tense, if I was walking a tightrope before it just turned into a razor-thin wire that’s about to snap.