Page 43 of Dance with Death

Vigo tilts his head toward the window beside us and I follow his eyes. I’m surprised I didn’t notice it before, though I really didn’t notice much of anything when I first walked in. There’s an oversized, pink stuffed rabbit resting on the floor between the windows.

“You want me to…play with the rabbit.” I’m careful to speak it as a statement, not as a question.

He grins at me and whispers, “Yes, go play. Crawl to your bunny.”

I do as he tells me, getting back down on all fours. I crawl the short distance to the rabbit and sit back on my heels, lifting the plush toy from the rug. I look back at him over my shoulder, my eyes searching for some hint that I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. He gives me nothing but smoldering, sickening heat.

I look away quickly, glancing down at the bunny the size of a cocker spaniel in my grip. I have no idea what he wants me to do. I’m trying to sort out what this kind of fantasy entails with little direction from him. I think he must want to see me like a child playing with her toys, but I don’t know if I can do this.

As sick as it makes me, I know this schoolgirl fantasy isn’t all that uncommon. I should be able to do this. As far as the world of sex slavery goes, this is nothing more than a fetish, a kink.

I should be able to do this.

But then, the simplicity of this makes me wonder why the girls in the boxes beside mine fought Vigo so hard when he’d come to take them. They weredesperatenot to go with him. It makes me wonder why the woman who called my box hers before me was so willing to slit her throat and end her life the second the opportunity presented itself.

On the surface, this looks like nothing more than a fantasy, but as Vigo comes up behind me, the pulse of his aura tells me this isn’t it—this fantasy isn’t the thing the other girls fear.

There’s something more coming.

My fingers dig into the velvety fur of the pink rabbit as my spine tingles in fearful anticipation.

“You love that pink bunny so much, don’t you?”

My muscles tense. “Si, Papà.”

“How much do you love it?”

My brow furrows. “I…love it very muchPapà.”

“Show your bunny how much you love it.”

I hesitate for a moment and then bring the stuffed animal close, hugging it to my chest like a child would.

Is this what he wants?

“Yes, you love that toy so much. Why don’t you give it a kiss?”

Odd.

So fucking odd.

I give the bunny a quick kiss on the nose.

He lets out a long, heated breath and out with it comes his sickness, rushing out into the room, swirling all around me, coiling me in its sinister hold.

“Now fuck it.”

Chapter 12

Anya

“What?” The questionshoots from my lips.

“Fuck it,” he repeats. “Wrap your legs around it and fuck it. Rub your clit on it until you come.”

Oh.

No.

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