Page 39 of The Puppetmaster

I don’t like this.

Did I just make a huge mistake? Is there any way to know for sure?

My pulse jolts again, but when he places his warm hand on my left thigh as he leans over to present the final page for me to review, all the gnawing doubts are silenced instantly.

How could his touch feel so perfectly right if there was anything wrong with him, or with this?

The final page for me to sign is actually the nondisclosure agreement, and the part that I was always the most curious about. No one has ever heard from his puppets after they were in his care, and while I understand the meaning of a nondisclosure, I’ve always wondered why it was they disappeared. After all, there was nothing keeping them from visiting The Velvet Rooms again, as long as they don’t talk about what happened here, right?

But as a matter of fact, there is. Right at the very bottom, the agreement clearly states that a puppet is to stay clear of the establishment where he conducts his hunts up until a certain date—and that date is set about two years in the future.

“Why?” I wonder out loud, pointing at the section like a child who’s just learning to read. “You said I should trust you, but here it looks like you don’t trust your puppets to keep their mouths shut, even after signing this agreement.”

He appears annoyed by my question. “What makes you say that?”

“Why else would you want us to stay away from The Velvet Rooms?” I ask. “And why until that date?”

“I have my reasons for it,” he answers vaguely. “Not all of these rules are just for my sake, Alena.”

My eyes rest on the line, trying to make sense of his words.

“I don’t get it,” I admit eventually. “How is this for my sake? I like going there, and I would never tell anybody about—”

“I know you wouldn’t,” he cuts me off. “But trust me. After being here with me, you won’t even want to go there anymore.”

I huff, unable to stop myself from throwing him an amused look. “That’s a pretty cocky thing to say, sir.”

He smirks at me. “Didn’t I warn you about that attitude?”

I jerk up when he adds a strong pull at the strings, almost causing me to let the pen drop.

“You’re already bound, Alena,” he reminds me. “You’re one little signature away from becoming my puppet, and trust me when I say that I won’t tolerate such behavior from you once that has happened.”

His expression is still friendly in a way, but there’s a shadow cast over it, the dark threat that seems to be inherent to him and that I’ve been drawn to from the very first moment I saw him.

“Fine,” I say, winking at him. “I guess I can go without The Velvet Rooms for two years if I must. But it’s a sacrifice, so you better make it worth it.”

He narrows his eyes but the smirk on his face only widens.

“Sign,” he hisses. “So I can punish you.”

My heart is galloping in response to his threat, but I hate giving him the satisfaction of seeing what he does to me. However, despite my best efforts, my hand is shaking as I set the pen down to sign. I take a deep breath as I feel the heavy weight of the consequences of my decision pushing me down like a drenched cloak.

Stop overthinking it. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re doing this.

I nod, if only to myself, and the pen flies along the line, leaving my name in a hasty scribble. As soon as I’m done, I drop the pen with a definitive motion, throwing it on the coffee table with such force that it bounces up and drops down to my feet.

“Uh, no, I’m sorry, I—”

I interrupt my stammering and resort to action instead, leaning forward to reach for the pen—and taking the stack of paper with me, as my hair falls over my shoulder and brushes it off the table as I move.

For fuck’s sake, why must I be such a klutz?

He doesn’t say a word, nor does he move or try to keep me in place with help of the strings as I try clear up the mess I created. As I gather the stack of paper that’s scattered around my feet, I find something that’s been hiding underneath it the entire time.

The letter I wrote for him.

I freeze in place, unsure what to do. My first instinct is to ignore the note and act as if I’d never seen it. But I can’t. It doesn’t feel right, and it would be an outright lie, a lie that would be apparent to him. And he doesn’t like liars.

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