Page 3 of Adored By Them
He lifts me out of the trunk and carries me like I’m an infant or—I realize with a pang of hysteria—a bride.I’m in my wedding gown and everything.I want to laugh and I want to cry and I want to scream.I do none of these things.Instead, I bow my back, going rigid and straight.
He loses his grip and drops me.Down I go, catching myself on my forearm and hip.The impact of the concrete floor jars my bones.But I don’t have time to feel shocked—I have to scramble.
At some point my shoes came off.My bare toes push against the cool floor, shoving me forward as I crawl.I don’t know where I’ll go, and I don’t care.I just know I have to getaway.
I scramble to the side.The stupid dress keeps tripping me.How can I trip when I’m crawling?It isn’t right.Satin tears.A hand clamps on my ankle.He drags me back.I kick at him with my other leg, but he dodges.
“Now, now.”He holds my ankles in a vise-like grip.“You haven’t yet seen the beautiful room I’ve set up for you, Danica Montrose.”
Instead of picking me up, he drags me over the concrete floor.There’s nothing to grip for purchase.Two of my nails tear when I try to hold the floor.The sharp pain only gives me renewed energy.
It doesn’t make me strong enough to fight against him and win, though.
Soon, he pulls me into another room.I don’t have any sense of what kind of building this is.I thought we were in a garage, but now I think…warehouse?The ceilings are higher than I initially thought, and that first room was a lot bigger than a typical garage.If that’s a warehouse, then this room would be an office.
Or, it normally would be.Instead, he turned it into some kind of nightmare.Black candles, unlit, line a wall shelf.Framed Renaissance prints of demons and torture hang on the walls.Crosses and pentagrams are arranged artfully around them.
“Into the chair, Danica Montrose.”He lifts me.
I hit, scratch, flail.I kick him good in the stomach and he grunts before slapping me across the face.
My ears ring, and the throbbing in my jaw from the earlier hit increases tenfold.Before I know it, I’m forced into the chair and my arms are wrenched behind me.He wraps something around my wrists, tying them together.My bare feet, he leaves unbound.I hold still, not wanting to call attention to them.
“There.”He gets up close, peering into my face.
Now that I can see better, I realize his eyes aren’t cruel.They’re dead.A flat blue that lets in no light whatsoever, a flat blue that swallows me, makes me small.I shudder.
“My, you are a pretty one.”He clucks his tongue.“I’ll let you get settled.Scream all you want—nobody’s around to hear you.”
With that, he turns around and leaves the room.
2
Troy
We pull up to Caleb’s apartment on the other end of Salding.It’s a solidly middle-class area.Caleb could probably afford something flashier, but maybe he’s comfortable here.Maybe he likes the smallness of it.Maybe he picked it because it’s like my little apartment—something untouched by the Laytons.
His car is in the lot, so he beat us here.In fact, he’s waiting for us in the small lobby, still in the suit he wore to the wedding.We go up to his apartment together, not speaking.
As soon as we’re in, Edmund says, “What the fuck happened back there?”
“I’m not sure.”Caleb frowns, eyes pinched in worry.“I’m sorry, man.Match and Torkin—are they…?”
“Dead.”I glance around the apartment.“We’ll need a list of everyone who worked at the wedding, see if anyone saw something.”
I don’t say it aloud, but we also need to know if anyone on the Layton payroll is working for our enemies.Vorsong Circle seems to know way too much about the movements of the Layton family.
“Yeah, of course.”Caleb goes into the kitchen and finds a notebook and pen.“I’ll make the list.I was there, obviously.”
“Obviously.”Edmund’s voice is cutting.
Caleb swallows.I almost feel bad for him, except he has once again failed us.Once this is over, I don’t think even his mother’s influence can save his position with the family.Once this is over, I never want to see his face again.
“So, um.”Caleb clears his throat as he writes down names.“Pope was there.Scollins.Hoffman.Warren.Jeffries.And this other guy—I never met him before.Romano.”
I straighten up.So does Edmund.“Who’s Romano?”
“Damiano Romano.I don’t know him.When I told Ed Senior I needed another guy, he tried to put me on security instead of the guest list.But then he changed his mind and called in a favor with Romano.”
