Page 34 of Spark of Madness

“What do you mean?” I ask before following him down the hallway.

We approach a door—second to the last at the end of the hall—and he turns to face it. He pushes back his sleeve and uses the black band, which is forever fixed around his wrist, to release the lock. My gaze falls to the patch of skin visible between his sleeve and glove, and I notice a portion of his skin is bumpy, uneven—it looks scarred or something.

Ishe hiding scars beneath the leather gloves?

He turns the handle and pushes the door open, waving his hand to encourage me inside. Reluctantly, I cross the threshold and enter the room. I take a couple of slow steps inside before I hear the door click shut behind me, and it makes me jump. I whirl around to find him in the room with me, door closed at his back.

“You’re here as both a prisoner and for your protection,” he tells me. “We’ve granted you a courtesy by making you a trial participant; we’ve given you a chance—”

“It’s hardly a chance.”

He closes the distance between us with a single, long stride. “It’s achance,nonetheless. A chance at absolution for your soul, if not for life itself. But make no mistake that if you fall out of line, a swift execution can be arranged. Everyone in Ember Glen is aware that you’re a sinner, and though I’m sure they’ll all be thrilled to watch you face the trials, some would be so inclined as to take matters into their own hands and end your life more expediently.”

His finger captures a strand of my hair and I narrow my gaze on him. “You should really consider our kindness in bringing you into our home. You should be grateful that you get to live this life of luxury while you can. Because you certainly haven’t proven that you deserve it. I can only protect you if you tame your maniacal thinking and keep your pretty pink lips shut.” His eyes drop to my mouth and my heart skips a beat.

I swallow. “Why bother to protect me at all?”

“Because I’m your warden, and you’re my ward. Because it’s the duty I’ve been given, and unlike you, sinner, I uphold the word of God.”

He moves closer as I move back, and I realize only now that we’ve been doing this dance the entire time. My back hits one of the four posts of a bed behind me that I haven’t set my gaze on yet. I gasp, twisting my head around to see the dark stained wood post as my body crushes into it.

He bends over me, and as I draw in a shaking breath, I can smell him—mint, pine, and open mountain air.

He smells like the meadow.

He smells like my happy place, and the realization of that twists in my gut, almost pleasantly so, but it quickly turns sour, spinning into nausea.

“You’ll have no privacy from me, do you understand?”

I don’t understand it.

I don’t accept it.

But somehow, I find my head nodding as I stare up into his disarmingly bright blue eyes.

“Good.” He tilts his head, his stare lifting to look beyond me, past my shoulder. “Go run a bath.”

“A bath?”

His leather-covered finger plucks a strand of my hair again, running it slowly down to the end. “Are you asking me what a bath is?”

“Do you really think I’m stupid?”

“I think you’re a servant and a sinner. I don’t expect you to know much of anything.”

My nostrils flare as I take in a furious breath, my voice deepening to match his condescending timbre. “I know how to care for myself. I know so much more than you’ll ever give me credit for.”

“That remains to be seen…though I don’t expect to see much before the end.”

The end.

My death.

I swallow hard. “How long do I have?”

“For what?” His body sways toward mine, and I let my back press against the wood post, hard and aching as my spine aligns to it.

“Until the final trial.”

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