Page 111 of Captive Souls

“And you expect to come out of it alive?” Again, the mirth in his tone was clear.

“I expect to accomplish my task,” I told him, gripping the tumbler so tight I feared I’d shatter it.

I’d accomplish my task. Whether or not I lived afterward remained to be seen. But I knew that there was no way I’d take my last breath until the threat against Piper was bleeding out at my feet.

Lukyan nodded as if he understood the sentiment behind my meager words. “What would you like me to do with her, if you don’t come back?”

I was surprised. He was agreeing to keep her there. It was my last-ditch attempt, and I’d expected it to be much more difficult, thornier than this-

“I will make arrangements for her and her sister.” I didn’t let my relief show. “To go back to their old life.”

“You think she’ll just go back to her life before this?” He studied me, leaning back in his chair.

“She’ll have to.” Poison ran through my body instead of blood. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “You’ll take her?”

I didn’t beg. Wouldn’t beg. But that was pretty fucking close.

Lukyan let me stew in the unpleasant feeling, likely entertained by my discomfort. “Yes, I’ll take her,” he eventually replied.

I didn’t show my relief, just sipped my drink.

Piper would live, I told myself.

That’s all that mattered.

Piper

Knox didn’t come out of the cigar meeting looking at all relaxed. In fact, he walked toward me like a man walking toward an executioner.

The sight of him sent ice through my limbs. I understood that things were happening. Big things. He was planning on taking down the head of an international crime organization in order to keep me safe. I had already tried to argue against this, but he wouldn’t be swayed. And logic dictated that this was the only way that we’d ever actually be able to be together. It was the only way I could go back to my life. If that was even an option after everything I’d been through.

It didn’t mean I had to like it. It didn’t mean that I didn’t have a cold pit at the bottom of my belly that made my skin itch.

The home was expensively appointed with rich colors—purples, deep burgundies—with oil paintings, candles, dim lighting. I felt like I was in an English castle.

We were drinking tea from intricate teacups, eating fucking Madeline’s.

The woman in front of me was interesting. She was slight, pale, fragile. But fragile like a stick of dynamite might’ve been. Vulnerable yet dangerous. I already knew the man, Lukyan, was. He walked and talked menace. It might’ve set my teeth on edge had I not already cut them on Knox. Regardless, it didn’t prevent me from feeling a prickle of fear in his presence, despite his polite greeting.

He was a man in the ‘business.’ The business of killing, I guessed. I couldn’t be sure. Some kind of criminal. One who’d amassed considerable wealth.

They emerged from the hall not smelling of cigars but of whisky. That surprised me but didn’t anger me. I even liked the smell of whisky on Knox’s breath when he laid his lips on my neck.

He’d pulled me away from the kitchen where Elizabeth and I had been preparing dinner. It felt foreign to be doing something so … normal in the midst of such chaos. But it was nice. I needed something to busy my hands. Elizabeth spoke little, of benign topics, studiously avoiding our abrupt arrival, acting as if we didn’t just turn up on her doorstep. She didn’t ask about the bruises either.

“I’m going to ensure that Daisy gets word to you as soon as it’s safe,” Knox said once he’d dragged me off, his voice low.

I blinked at what he was saying. Definitely not what I expected, even though my worry for Daisy had been pacing at the back of my mind at all times, like a caged tiger.

“Once it’s appropriate, you’ll meet up with her and Joey,” he continued, voice strange and tight. Distant.

A lump of dread formed in my throat even though he was telling me things that should’ve made me happy.

“You’re leaving me. Here,” I deduced though it didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand.

“Yes.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. He had his mask in place, as it had been the entire visit. He was edgy, stilted, on guard.

The intensity of it was comforting yet also pinching too tight, bordering on painful. But that was how I liked it. I liked it immensely, seeing that outside of the cabin, he still had that feeling for me. It wasn’t born of the surroundings, the situation in the cabin, the dark magic of the woods.

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