“But, alas, it is,” he counters and steps closer. I hold his gaze, refusing to acknowledge how he smells or how close he is to me again. “She could have murdered dozens of children, and you would never have known. Why care for a stranger?”
“Did she kill anyone?” I ask, and before I’ve thought about it, I poke a finger into his chest. “How many children have you killed? How many are dead because of you?”
He roughly catches my hand, clamping it inside his much bigger hand. “Children are innocent, and I do not take the innocent lives. Every adult human is tainted just as much as the vampires are. Are you really so good, Riona Dark?”
I try pulling my hand away from him, but it seems impossible. His grip is so tight, but he doesn’t actually hurt me. He moves closer, breathing in a long breath. My voice is shaky at best as I reply. “Did you demand me here to test my morals?”
Whatever I said makes him let me go, and I stumble back. I keep walking back until my back hits the door, and I try to reach for the handle. I’m so done playing whatever game this lunatic wants to play. Maddox simply watches me, a cold appearance drifting over his features once again.
“My friends are all curious about you. Tonight, there will be a dinner and dance,” he claims, turning his back on me and walking back to his throne.
“I’m not going.”
As he steps over the woman’s dead body like she is nothing more than a stool, and sits at a lazy angle on the chair, his eyes find mine. I shiver with the malice I see there. “Your attendance isn’t optional. Now go, unless you wish to amuse me.”
“Fuck you,” I snap and swiftly leave the room, hearing his laugh follow me all the way back to my room.
And even there, in my room where I feel a slight bit safe, is another reminder of my monster in the form of a silk red dress.
The very colour of blood.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’m sure he picked this dress to annoy me,” I mutter to myself, even as my hands ache as I try and fail to do up the lace on the back of my gown for a third time at a weird angle. I spin sideways in the mirror, trying to get a good look at the lace bindings and working out that there is no way in hell I am going to be able to do this myself. I find my own eyes in the mirror, the pale blue colour a big contrast against the red of the dress. My blonde hair is wavier than usual, and being in a dress reminds me of my prom night at high school when I last wore something this fancy. It seems so long ago, but the happy memories still flash across my mind. My brother, Arlo, Sophie and I shared a limo that my parents bought for us, and we snuck whiskey into it in the pockets of my dress. I don’t remember much after a few shots of whiskey, but I know it was a brilliant night.
The hangover the next morning was not so brilliant.
Deciding I need help or I’m going to be walking into this dinner with no clothes on, I hold the dress in place firmly at the front as I pop my head out of my door. In the distance, I see Cross heading down the corridor.
“Cross!” I shout for him. He pauses and looks back, frowning when he sees me before jogging over, his red hair flapping around in the wind.
“Everything alright, lass?” he asks.
“Can you please do up my dress for me? This isn’t me hitting on you or anything like that. I just need help.”
Cross twirls his finger around with a frown, and I turn. I somewhat expected him to be confused by all the lace and general difficulty of the dress, but he soon has the dress all done up, and I step back.
“It suits you. Red, I mean.”
“How did you know how to do dresses up like that?” I question, going over to the bed and sitting down, pulling on my boots, ignoring the high heels Maddox had someone leave with the dress. There are too many steps in this castle for heels, that’s for sure, and even though I really like the red heels, it feels like wearing them and the dress would be letting Maddox win.
Cross leans back against the wall as he speaks. “Maddox has had many women and many dresses for them to wear.”
Disgust fills my stomach. “How can you stand it?”
“I want to live,” he coolly replies. “And if you want to as well, be careful.”
I don’t reply to him, not wanting to promise him anything. I pull open the door to my bedroom and step out, hearing voices behind me. I turn to see Marcella and the same woman with long black hair, who I haven’t met yet, walking towards us, whispering. I turn to Cross as he steps out behind me. “Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime,” he replies with a small smile that helps calm my nerves a little. I want to ask him what tonight will be like, if dinners with the Prince’s friends are dangerous and if I should be scared. But the reality is: I already know the answer. If the prince’s friends are anything like him, then tonight is going to be a nightmare.
“Are there any ways to resist compulsion?” I ask Cross, carefully avoiding telling him that it doesn’t work on me.
Cross frowns. “If there is, the vampires have not been keen to share that information. Although…”
He pauses and looks around, seeing the women getting closer, so he lowers his voice. “The witches can fight the compulsion to an extent, but not without extreme pain. I’ve witnessed it before. Sirens can sing and lull the compulsion out, turning it around on the vampire who tried it.”
So maybe I have witch blood? How the hell do I find that out? And if I do, surely the vampires can taste the difference in my blood? I definitely don’t sing.
Seems like my question has just brought up more questions without actual answers.
“Seems like she is fucking the help as well as the princes. What a whore,” the woman I don’t know whispers loudly as she walks past me and then deliberately shoves her shoulder into mine. I stumble and spin around. “No wonder they paid so much. No wonder half of The Onyx wants her.”
“What the hell did you just call me?” I shout, having enough of…well, everything. I don’t need bitchy bullies to add to my list of problems. I wouldn’t put up with them in school, and I won’t put up with them now. Knowing I’m angrier at being stuck here than I am with this girl, it still doesn’t stop me from shaking from head to toe. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to slam her into the wall and take out my frustration.
“Riona, leave—” Cross tries to stop me, but I step around him.
“Daphne was just—” Marcella tries to explain, looking worried, and she steps back as Daphne walks right up to me, her brown eyes burning with hate.
“You heard. You’re just another one of his whores, but this is even worse because he has to share you with his brother!” She spits out a laugh. “Don’t you realise the whole island is laughing at you? Judging you? Hoping one of the princes kills you before you cause chaos?” She shoves her hand into my shoulder. “He will be back in my bed. Back inside me and not you soon enough. You won’t last.”
She pokes me hard in the chest, and I just snap. That’s it. I scream as I jump on her, punching her hard across her cheek and falling on top of her in the same move. Nothing but rage and anger control me, smothering any rational thoughts that might try to calm me. She hits and whacks me back as we both roll across the floor, her sharp nails scratching my arms, and I pull at her hair until clumps are in my hand. Cross picks me up like a doll, pulling me away even as I push and wiggle to get away from him, but his arms clamp down on me with incredible power.