Page 26 of A Dance With Devils
The thought makes me think about my little thing and where she might be, as I drop a selection of pills in my mouth. And then the thought crosses my mind that she might already have been caught by either Lucien or Damien regardless of my threat. I turn and scour the floor behind me, searching through dresses and clothes to find that blue and white dress. It’s nowhere to be seen in the masses.
Standing, I leave the floor show and head into the crowd, nodding at the various greetings that pass me by. My hand dips into my pocket, several more pills pulled out and swallowed so I can focus in the zone I’m aiming for. The melting pot hits quickly, as they join the rest of them already taken and I stay still to let it take hold fully. Lights move and glide, the room moving of its own accord. A smile crosses my face as the couples and singles keep passing me, music seeming in time with their bodies.
Home.
Hands touch me, gentle fingernails grazing my neck and coming around in front of me. I grip onto them and swing the body around into my hold to dance. Another fuck, another pointless session. Fucking is as usual as it always is here, and as usual as it is out there in the real world. The screams sound better here, though. And the need to get dressed afterwards is less apparent. One day the pills will work for me fully. Maybe then there would be a point to it all.
Or maybe not still.
Chapter 11
Ally
Ican hear feet running. Two sets maybe.
All this time there’s been nothing but silence and the wind, squeaks and moans of the building, but as the darkness began setting in, and the shadows started playing tricks on my mind, everything became eerie and weird around me.
As if it wasn’t weird enough already.
I’m on pins now. Heightened instincts making me check every noise, every creak. Obscurity lurks behind every corner, and the cold seeping into my bones is frigid against my skin. I hid in an old cupboard for a while. It must have been close to the kitchens because I could smell food cooking. And then I chased the setting sun to bring me to this place I’m still cowering in regardless of no Malachi in sight. And I swear I’ve been able to hear music for a while. A deep sound this time. Dull and throbbing somewhere. It’s like a rhythm I can’t quite keep up with, a bass I can’t find, no matter how I strain to listen to it.
It’s another thing that makes no sense. It feels like it’s coming out of the ground beneath me, not from a piano this time. And still no Malachi. Maybe he’s not hunting me at all. Maybe that was part of the game, make me think he was while he’s actually just at a party and laughing to himself about where I might be in this castle.
My body rises at the thought, eyes narrowed, as I check out the hall. Nothing. Just darkness and the slow sound of a draft whipping along passed my bare feet. I creep out into the hall and move swiftly along the corridor, trying to follow the sound of the music. It doesn’t lead me anywhere, though. I just keep going around in circles, eventually skipping past rooms I’ve already passed. Still, at least I’m learning this place, getting a feel for the passages and halls.
Could be useful if this is even real.
I swing right, then left, heading back for the staircase until I pass that too and try finding my way back to the entrance lobby. Maybe the car’s still there, keys in it. I could go and drive to wherever is not here, ask a stranger for help – use someone’s phone maybe. That’s a kind of running he won’t expect. It’s only when I find the lobby that I remember the other archways leading off it and the maid that disappeared.
My head says the entrance door that’s firmly closed. That’s the way out. I look at it and run over, trying the handle. It doesn’t budge. No movement whatsoever. And then I notice that the music feels louder here. It isn’t, but I can almost feel it in my feet somehow. Back peddling, I creep a little further, bypassing the oil painting I was looking at earlier, and slip under the other doorway I shouldn’t be intrigued about. Another dark corridor and I find myself standing in front of the largest wooden door I’ve ever seen. It’s cracked ajar, and the groan that sounds out when I push gently is enough that I duck backwards for an alcove I passed. Nothing happens. It just waits there with a widened path on view, pitch black behind it.
Slow feet, or stupidity, push me through the doorway and into what seems to be another cave. I halt and look around, peering through the blackness in the hope of vision. Nothing again, as my feet stumble on rocky ground. But eventually, as I peer closer and allow myself to move, I see the slight imprint of a steel door. My hands come to rest on it when I build up the courage to go over, and the vibration floods through me. Heavy bass. Hard on my palms as it pulses and ricochets.
My ear presses to the sound, hands moving over the feel of it under them. Primal. Like a tribal beat of some kind. Other than that, still silence and nothing else. I rest for a while, trying to work out what to do, where to go, and why Whit would even send me somewhere like this if he knew what was coming for me. Relax? Not a hope. My heart’s been more erratic since I’ve been here than it has been since ….
The running feet suddenly start again, a woman’s scream sounding out this time for some reason. I jump and press my back to the door, eyes looking around sharply for escape routes. There aren’t any here. Nothing but a big black cave and the sound of the feet getting closer. The woman screams again, an almost blood curdling sound that makes me scramble on the door for a handle, a lock, anything. Nothing presents itself as fucking useful, until something depresses under my hand.
Light engulfs the room I’m in, as the steel slides behind me, and my feet back me into the light without thought. Light is good. Light means I can see when something tries to attack me. As it is doing that other woman by the sound of it. It isn’t until I notice the door beginning to close that I stick my foot forward instinctively and wait for the feet still pounding in my direction to arrive. Maybe she can get to me, find her way into this space and we can both escape.
“KEEP RUNNING!” shouts out of me, as the door slides closed on my foot again.
I snatch glances at the inside of the small room, and realise it’s an elevator. Buttons? Only two. My finger hovers over both of them, heart beating at the same pace as the feet are travelling at, until I see her running into the light that’s still illuminating the dark space.
She shrieks and heads straight for me, her hand ghosting off the floor as she trips on the ground. “RUN!” screams out of me again, as I pull my foot from the door.
Eight strides and the mass of blonde hair and near naked body slams into the elevator with me, heavy feet pounding into the room behind her. I look up, body moving in front of her, and glare at the two men running our way in suits. Fuck, they’re big, and fast.
My thumb presses both buttons quickly, as dark eyes get closer and laughter echoes with their speed. Up? Down? What does it matter? I move backwards and crush her panting form onto the back of the elevator, willing the fucking door to close before it’s too late. So close. Too close. I step back again, head turning as one of them sneers and reaches his hand for the steel. Too late. I should have gone earlier, shouldn’t have waited for her.
Damn my need to help.
The finality of the seamless click makes me gasp in breath, my body finally able to relax at the thought of what could have happened, and I back off to rest on the wall as it begins moving around us. Jesus Christ. What was that? Now I know what he meant by run. No fucking way am I trying that game out for fun. And pain at the end of it? I look over the woman in front of me, eyeing up her semi torn dress, as she rests her hands on her knees and keeps panting. Handprints on her skin. Scratches on her wrists, bruises already formed underneath them from something.
“Are you alright?” I ask, checking for any other problems.
She keeps panting, her body sliding to the floor under the torment of her fear. Shoulders shaking. Hands quivering, as she lifts them to her hair to tip her head against the back of the elevator. Her skin glows, deep blue eyes glinting with tears she’s not letting out.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here soon,” I murmur.
