Page 33 of A Dance With Devils
“Wait there,” I mutter, pushing on the hidden lever.
Air puffs out as the old cantilever pushes the door inwards, and she’s gone into the depths of the tunnel before I get a chance to shut the damn thing. A laugh grumbles out of me, eyes snatching glances along the obscure hole, as I pull it back to. I can hear her feet running, smell her body as it tries escaping again. Good hunting.
I take off after her, heavy boots pounding corners and corridors I know too well until I see the lights come flicking back at me. All the colours again, all the bright lights. Mine. All mine to play with. And I want secrets from her. Where? Who? Why? I’ll make her tell me, force things from her she didn’t even know she was hiding.
The eventual sight of the door up into the main house being open makes me check the hallways, eyes scanning for which direction. No noise. Everything’s quiet as a mouse. And then footsteps somewhere. Heavy footsteps. My eyes narrow. Who the fuck is here now? Damien isn’t, Karl either. I sent them down. Down so this would be for me and her alone. I wanted quiet for my hunt, just me and her and the endless time we have.
A scream sounds out, a riot of bellows and bitching about something. I follow the sound of it, boots hurrying in case something else has got hold of my little thing. Mine. No one else’s. My game – my play.
It isn’t until I round towards the main staircase that I hear the voice more clearly. “Get the fuck off me,” my little Alice shouts. “Now.” Quiet again. “No. Fuck off. You don’t understand and …” Another volley of bitching, another scream so fucking loud the pitch of it makes me consider what I’m about to see. “RUN!” she screams. “RUN!”
Low words follow it. Too low for me to hear until I get to the main lounge and see what’s happening – or who is happening.
“Get the hell off her,” snarls out of me. Gray turns, a rise to his brow, as his damned hands try to push her into a chair. “Mine. Fuck off.”
He snorts and lets go slowly, a smile broadening at my aggressive approach. “Interesting.”
Why is he here?
“Fuck off.”
I move quickly, part wanting to shield her from him, and then shake my fucking head. That’s not right. I laugh and glower, confused as to what I’m even glowering for. Drink? She bitches behind me about something, her body getting ready to run again, as she starts clambering out of the chair.
“Sit the fuck down, Ally cat.” Her head whips up to look at me, anger flaring across her features. I don’t care at the moment. I’ve got things to think about – sense to find. “Stay still.”
“Are you alright?” Gray asks.
Yes. Of course I’m alright. Or not.
I cross over the room, searching for vodka in all these colours that keep spinning around my face. “Why are you here?”
“Invited?”
“Not anymore. Go away.”
He sits in the chair under the window, casually unbuttoning his jacket. “No.”
“She’s mine.”
“Alright.”
“Where’s yours?”
“Down, down, down, apparently.”
Good. I’ll fuck her later then. “What were you doing with mine?”
He’s silent for a while, nothing but his fucking questioning eyes making me feel something like jealousy. Haven’t felt that for a while. “Attempting to cover her with my coat,” he says. “She’s freezing.”
I look back at her, her legs tucked up tight as she glares at both of us, and notice the long, wool coat that lies beside her for the first time. “Put it on, little Alice.” She does slowly, or at least pulls it over her body.
Quiet again. Better.
Vodka poured into me, I turn again to look at her. She’s still glaring, but looks somewhere near reasonable in colour now rather than the blue that was settling in. My head shakes, body falling against the fireplace, and I rub over my eyes, as a laugh peels out of me.
Fucked.
Hunt, hunt, hunt. And I was doing.
