Page 55 of Deadmen's Captive

“You’re all completely fucked up,” Paige complained, but she didn’t pull away as I slipped my arm back around her shoulders.

I shrugged. “Probably. Actually yes, definitely.”

She laughed. I smiled down at her, though I felt a flicker of apprehension as I looked down at her. It might have sounded like I was joking, but I wasn’t really. The three of us, we had our secrets and our darkness. Paige just hadn’t experienced them yet. I hoped that any bond we formed before then was enough to keep her around.

We decided to head straight to Antonio’s rather than heading back to Paige’s dorm first. I insisted on carrying her bag of sketchbooks and pencils, and the walk was filled with easy banter and laughter. She told me about how she discovered Antonio's during her first week here and how they make their own pasta fresh every morning.

As we stepped inside the warm restaurant filled with the scent of garlic and tomato sauce, she looked around with a satisfied smile on her face.

“Please tell me you’re not about to order a green salad?” I teased, as the waiter led us to a small table tucked away in the corner.

“Not a chance on that. You promised me pizza, so you’d better deliver. Oh god, there was loads of small print in that contract Bast flashed in front of my face - you guys aren’t going to control what I eat, right? Cause if you take my carbs away, we’re going to have issues!”

I laughed as we sat down, choosing to sit next to her rather than opposite. I wasn't quite ready to give up that closeness yet. The waiter handed us our menus, then disappeared quickly. The place was heaving, but Paige was right, it was the best pizza place in Blackvellyn.

“Not me, pretty girl. Bast might, when you’re with him. He likes to be in control. What you do, what you wear…”

“Yeah, figures he’d be a control freak,” she muttered, glancing at the menu. “Wait, what do I wear?”

She looked over at me, and for a moment, I thought I caught a glimmer of panic in her eyes.

“Yeah, for the trials, when we’re at the club. He'll want you to wear specific things that fit with the ceremony or ritual or theme.”

“Ok… but not… not what I wear every day though?”

She seemed nervous for some reason, and I picked up her hand and squeezed it. “He might buy you the odd thing if he thinks you’ll like it, but no, Paige, he won’t do that. We’re not your jailers.”

“Oh, good. That’s good.” She looked back down at the menu, but something was clearly bothering her.

“I’m going to get the Milanese and a bottle of Tempranillo,'' I said. “What would you like and what’s got you all worked up about clothing choices?”

My light hearted attempt at pumping her for information worked and she smiled up at me. “I’ll take the spicy seafood pizza, and the wine sounds great. Some water for the table too?”

I nodded. “Perfect.” I looked up and took a couple of minutes trying to catch the waiter’s eye. When we’d finally managed to place our order, I turned back to Paige. “So no dodging the question. What upset you there?”

Paige sighed, toying with her napkin. “My mother is rather… she has very set ideas about how a girl acts and dresses, and eats to be honest, and it’s only since I came to Blackvellyn that I could really start wearing what I wanted. I’ve been finding things in charity shops that were more to my taste than the designer stuff my mum insisted I wear. I thought Bast might do the same.”

I leaned back, looking her up and down. the white tank top was simple enough, but the jeans were heavy and wide, her converse were scruffy but looked liked there was some kind of design on them, and there were flowers painted on her taupe corduroy jacket that looked a lot like some of the flowers in her paintings, and I realised she’d customised it herself.

“You look gorgeous, Paige,” I said. “Your position as Persephone is a role, a persona you can step into, and you might find that having different clothing helps you play the part, and makes it easier for you to step out again afterwards. Separate Persephone from Paige, if you like.”

She thought about that, and then smiled. “That actually does sound like a good idea. I am starting to regret saying I'd think about staying though.” My heart jumped.

The waiter arrived with the water and wine, and I poured us both drinks before asking: “Why are you starting to regret it? Do you not like me? Or Nate or Bast? Has either of them done anything to upset you?"

Paige shook her head. “No, you’ve all been lovely. Well, Bast is pretty standoffish and the conversation is a little dull when we’re out, and Nate barely says a word to me unless he’s helping me with my form in the gym. It’s just, it's been a couple of weeks and Bast said another trial is coming up and I’m just…”

“Nervous?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Nervous, scared. More than a little bit terrified, actually. I keep picturing these trials and no matter how I imagine them, they never end well,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

I shifted in my seat, bringing myself closer to her. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. Nate and I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” I said. My voice was firm; it was a vow.

She chewed on her lower lip before she spoke again. “But Bast… he's not like you guys.” Her eyes were searching mine for something, an assurance perhaps.

“He’s not. But he respects us and our positions within the Club. He wouldn’t dare cross us when it comes to you.”

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