Page 99 of Chain Me
“No,” I insisted, shaking my head. “I can ignore it.”
“I suppose you might require some token to assist in that quest.” Lowering the cloth, he lifted my hand from the water, extending the fingers for his inspection.
In confusion, I looked down, frowning as something caught the light. Something small, encircling my finger.
Recognition prickled through my chest.
“My ring…” Only it wasn’t. A fact made apparent as I drew it closer for inspection and realized the gold band shone far too brilliantly. Real? A delicately thin band, it encased a stunning blue stone far too beautiful to be formed of cheap plastic.
A replica, but one recreated of materials that I sensed were a million times the worth of the original design.
“Love is an archaic concept, I must admit.” Dublin sighed, brushing his lips against my throat as he spoke. “But I suppose we could name it that. What I feel for you.Love, in a sense.”
As his fingers traced the pulse quickening in my arm, I quaked, too stunned to speak.
“So remember that the next time you dare to slice into this flesh. Every inch belongs tome.”
My lips parted, a startled laugh escaping them. Only he could turn a romantic confession into a threat. But the reaction made him brace me more firmly, his body molding to mine.
His thumb brushed my jaw, urging me to face him. “Look at me.”
His eyes burned, nearly impossible to meet head-on—but in this arena, he offered no reprieve. Our lips met, the kiss slower than any other. Deeper. In it, I sensed more than he could ever convey out loud. Anything.Everything.
Enough to silence the remnants of the voices the way sunlight scattered roaches.
“I dearly hate to interrupt…”
I jumped at the intrusion. Before I could cover myself with my hands, Dmitri appeared near the mouth of the bathroom. Not even a heartbeat later, Dublin stood toe-to-toe with him, obscuring any view he might have glimpsed.
“Pardon the interruption,” Dmitri simpered as he was promptly herded from the room. “But I figured that you would prefer hearing this from me.Herequests an audience with you and her.” He waved in my direction over Dublin’s shoulder. “I take it one of his little spies told him she was up and moving. You knew he wouldn’t wait for long. Not when you’ve come crawling back so conveniently into his control.”
“Who?” I croaked, snatching for a nearby towel. Dread thickened my throat as I stood, drawing the material around me. Again, I suspected that a part of me already knew the answer.
“You didn’t tell her?” Dmitri remarked, practicallysingingwith glee. “Oh my. Well, this will be quite a shock. I’ll save you the trouble. Raphael requested your audience, my darling Eleanor. Though I take it you’ve met our dear, dear mutual friend already?”
That I had.
“He suggested you dress for dinner,” Dmitri added as his giddy footsteps retreated. “Oh…and, and Eleanor?” He poised his next statement as if knowing the exact moment I’d flinch in response. “Welcome to the enclave.”
Lost
Dublin toweled me off in silence. As if conjured by magic, he pulled a black dress on over my head and guided me into a pair of matching heels. He said nothing, his expression stony—though, to be fair, I wasn’t inclined to ask too many questions.
Whatever this “enclave” might be, I suspected that its real purpose lacked any mystery in one context: This place was Raphael’s lair. Somewhere beyond the club where the ancient creature held full sway.
And where Dublin did not.
I eyed my ring as he swept my wet hair back from my face to observe his handiwork. Satisfied, he took my hand and steered me from the bathroom. As we crossed the threshold of the bedroom and entered the unknown, he pulled me closer. Enough so that his bulk obscured my view of our surroundings. I could only make out a floor a milky shade of marble and blood-red walls accented in gold.
As blinded as I was, the trip through unseen corridors felt as disorienting as being led through a maze. While blindfolded. In the dark.
Eventually, the corridor must have expanded into a larger, more open space judging from how our every footstep echoed like a gunshot. My ears caught whispered conversations from unseen figures. When Dublin finally drew to a stop, he tugged me to stand beside him.
And when I finally scanned our surroundings unobstructed, my shock transformed my expression, impossible to contain.
We were standing in a throne room. One decorated in swaths of scarlet and gold. More disturbing frescos adorned the walls and high ceilings. Images of angels slaying demons and fiery portrayals of Heaven and Hell.
Like an angel himself, a lone figure was sitting upon a raised dais positioned with the commanding presence of a throne. Raphael. His shoulders draped with a scarlet cloak, he looked every bit as chilling as when I had seen him last. His skin was a thin sheet clinging to bluish veins, enhancing the hollow bones of his eternally beautiful face.
