And then there was the champagne… The world slants sideways for a moment, mists and hedges and ground all becoming distorted in front of me like a funhouse mirror.
What the—?
I stumble forward and finally make it all the way down the path.
It’s a dead end.
There’s no one waiting for me.
I frown and grab my dizzy head. Is this all some joke? Someone’s funny idea of screwing with me? Or did I take a wrong turn and not realize it? I’m really not feeling so good.
I hold a hand out to the sculpted branches of the box hedge for balance. I really need to get back to the party. Have to— Have to eat something before I pass out.
I turn around to head back—
And scream.
In front of me, blocking the path back into the rest of the maze, is a monster. Huge. Horns sticking out of his head. A freaking demon monster! Heading through the mists towards me.
I scream and stumble backwards into the hedge. Dark-leafed branches scratch at me.
“You’re hallucinating,” I whisper frantically to myself. “Someone spiked the punch.” I’ve heard of that happening before. People spiking punch with party drugs so that parties turn into, like, orgies. And whatever they put in this time is hitting me way, way wrong.
The scary demon monster takes another step towards me.
I whimper, blinking over and over as it comes in and out of focus, swathed in mist.
Not real. He isn’t real.
But he sure as hell looks real, all six massive feet of him. Chest like a champion wrestler with huge, oversized muscles, barely constrained by a dress shirt, no jacket.
As he comes closer, dark eyes glare down at me from a bronzed demon face. He’s a— A monster.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper, fear cinching my chest tight. I should scream. I need to scream people so can come help me. But my vocal cords are frozen like my legs.
He grins and I frown. Wait, his mouth, it’s different. I blink repeatedly. Is he— Is he wearing a mask?
“What do I want from you?” His voice is a low, brutal growl. “Everything, little girl.”
Oh shit. Run. I need to run.
But he’s backed me into a corner. There’s nowhere to go where he won’t catch me.
“I’m going to take everything from you and—” he growled.
But I never hear the end of his threat because right then, I pass the fuck out.
Five
Daphne
I blink my eyes blearily and lift a hand to my head. What the— That was the craziest dream. I scrub my hand down my face and sit up.
And then shriek, because where the hell am I?
I jump out of the fancy four poster bed—a bed that isn’t mine—and my feet hit a cold stone floor. The whole room’s made of stone. There’s a giant empty fireplace with a snarling beast head. It reminds me of the creature the night before.
Shit. Shit shit shit. This is bad. I blink hard and shake my pounding head. I have a headache from hell. Was I drugged? Oh my gods, I was drugged and then kidnapped. I’m not wearing my tree costume, just the nude-colored camisole and slip I was wearing underneath. Holy shit. Holy shit.
I run to the window. The glass is old, thickened at the edges. The stone still is freezing to touch. Outside is a several-story drop down a worn stone face to a lawn below. Mist swirls over the trimmed grass and hedges, obscuring the road and the forest beyond. Not that I can see much far off detail without my contact lenses.
I swing back and look around the room again. Weapon. I need a weapon. Shit! In all those years of schooling I took, how did I never take a self-defense class? There’s a lamp in the corner that looks heavy.
But right as I head towards it, the huge wooden door opens. I clap a hand over my mouth to hold in a shriek when a man—oh gods, the same one from last night, bits and pieces are starting to come back—comes into the room.
“You’re awake,” he says in his low baritone. Even without my glasses, I see the truth. He’s wearing a mask. Not the same as last night. There aren’t horns this time—maybe that was part of the drugged hallucinations?
This mask is smooth and covers only the left half of his face, including most of his nose. I’m too distracted by the mask and, ya know, the fact that I’ve been kidnapped by a most likely psycho killer to pay too much attention to the other half of his face, other than to note that he’s young, maybe in his thirties.
I scramble backwards up against the windowsill. “Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper, my heart pounding a thousand miles a minute.
“You’re not safe,” he says, standing still as stone in the doorway. “Someone tried to drug you.”
I’m frozen as well, only able to stare at him. Uh, duh, someone not only tried to drug me, they did—Him. Before he brought me back to his creepy lair.
“Please let me go.”
“Not until I’m sure you’re safe. Who would’ve drugged you?”
Is he serious right now? “No one that I know.”
He shakes his head, a bitter smile curving his lips. “You don’t see them for what they are.”
“You’re the one wearing a mask.”
He takes a step into the room and I flatten myself back against the window even though I know it’s useless as he stalks closer. His foot falls in time with my heartbeat: boom. Boom. Boom.
“In New Olympus, evil doesn’t have to wear a mask. It parades around, looking beautiful, for all to see. But underneath it’s rotten to the core.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I touch my face, frowning when I don’t feel my glasses there. “Please just let me go.”
“What? Didn’t you like your rose? Your mother did so love them.”
He pulls his hand from behind his back and produces a perfect red rose. I can smell it from here. It’s the same hybrid from last night. And the one on my desk. And every year since I was eighteen…
“You?” I gasp. “Who are you?”
He takes another step closer and runs the blush of the rose petals down my cheek. My first instinct is to jerk back but instead I straighten my spine and look him in the eye. He drags the silken petals down the side of my cheek, along my throat and down along my exposed collarbones. It raises involuntary goosebumps but I don’t look away.
I’m not going to cower from this man, no matter the fact that I’m scared out of my pants. If only I were wearing pants. I’m suddenly very aware of just how little I’m wearing.
His eyes are a dark, stormy chocolate. And gods, does he have to be so large? The huge span of his chest blocks out almost my entire vision. I’ve never been so near anyone so…masculine. I ought to be terrified, and I am, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not going to cower in fear in front of him.
“The question is, Dr. Daphne Laurel, who are you? Are you as corrupt as the rest of them?”
I frown. “Corrupt? I don’t underst—”
“Stop playing innocent,” he suddenly booms, grabbing my upper arm in an unrelenting grip.
I shriek and he lets go but his eyes are thunderous as he looms over me. “You will be tested. Are you an innocent girl just trying to find the cure for the disease that took her mother’s life? Or are you a money-grubbing business executive like your father?”