Page 69 of The Dancer and the Masks (Their Obsession 1)

Chapter 18

CHRISTY

“Now for dessert,” Konrad says, his blue eyes sharp with want.

The effects of the drug continue to incapacitate me. My limbs feel heavy and my head groggy. Getting away from these men is no longer an option. I simply can’t move.

“Please,” my voice is slurred, my tongue heavy. That inner voice battling with my body’s need to obey. Begging these motherfuckers isn’t something I want to do, but it happens regardless. My physical strength has been overpowered by this drug that I’ve been poisoned with. “W—what have you d—done to me?”

“Thirteen is truly gifted. She has the ability to make any manner of drugs, and all of it using natural ingredients. If you haven’t already guessed, Five’s blade was steeped in something to relax you. There’s no running now, Nothing,” Jakub says, wickedness lacing his voice with poison just like the drug is lacing my veins in the same way.

“How could she?” I mutter, heartbroken by her betrayal. Why had she looked at me the way she did? Like she understood my predicament and wanted to help me, and yet it was her drug that made me feel this way, that’s put me into this vulnerable position. I can’t even try to fight back.

“If she’d been born in the wrong century, there is no doubt that she would’ve been accused of being a witch and hanged from The Weeping Tree for her skill,” he continues, oblivious to my disappointment.

“She’s a witch?” I mumble, spots of light dancing in front of my eyes as I try to make sense of what’s happening.

Konrad stands, looming over me. “Not like the ones you might find in fairy tales, Zero. She’s a healer for want of a better word.”

“A healer?” I laugh, and the sound is bitter. This isn’t healing, this is aiding and abetting monsters who imprison and control, who manipulate and coerce, whohurtpeople. She’s no better than they are.

“She calls this particular elixirThe Quickening,” Leon explains, his thick fingers sliding through my hair, pulling the strands so that my scalp tingles. I feel the weight of his hands, the intention in his movements, and it sends a wave of warmth cascading over my body. It’s not a reaction I want or understand, but it happens regardless. “You may feel heavy, sleepy, relaxed right now,” he continues. “But soon the drug’s true purpose will reveal itself. Be ready, Nought. This is the one and only time we can guarantee that you’ll enjoy what’s about to happen. This is our welcome.”

I almost say that Jakub has already given me that back in his bedroom, but then that would be admitting out loud that I enjoyed it, that a tiny part of me craves that feeling again.

“No! Don’t!” I protest weakly. Forcing my lips to move, I glare at Jakub standing before me. “This isn’t what I want.”

Jakub’s eyes flash with anger. “Even under the influence you are still so argumentative. We are giving you agift, Nothing. Accept it.”

“Rape isn’t a gift. Touching me without my permission isn’t a damn g—gift!” I stutter, stumbling over my words, trying desperately to force my arm to move so that I can knock away Konrad’s fingers as they trace my rib cage. Instead, a languid feeling rolls over me at his touch, sparking sensations of pleasure that floods my sex. A rush of anger fires up inside my chest. Is this what they mean by the drug’s true purpose? The Quickening makes your body relax until you're unable to control it anymore, then it makes you feel pleasure when you otherwise wouldn’t?

Don’t lie to yourself, you’ve already proven how much you enjoy their touch.

I close that thought down, refusing to acknowledge it. “H—how could she?!” I bite out, forcing the words through heavy lips and a slack jaw, trying in vain to ignore my pulsing clit.

“Thirteen?” Jakub asks, taking my hands in his and pulling me upright. Even that simple touch is like a beacon to my pussy. Heat rushes to my core at the simple contact. I want to snatch my hands away, but can’t even do that.

“Yes,” I spit. It takes immense effort to lift my head and look at him. My torn dress hangs open, and my breasts feel heavy, swollen, as I sit with my legs stretched out on the table in front of me. Jakub glances at my chest, at my peaked nipples before lifting his gaze back to mine. My body feels like a ripe fruit, ready to be plucked, tasted, but inside I feel rotten to the core. None of this is right. None of it is real in the true sense of the word. It’s a lie. If I had all my faculties then there’s no way I’d be reacting this way to their touch. I’d bedisgusted.Iwould. “How could she?”

“Because we asked her to, because she’s our friend.”

“Friend?” The laughter that leaves my mouth sounds light, carefree, but it wasn’t meant to. The drug turns my hate into smiles and laughter, just like it turns my physical disgust into acceptance and pleasure. Internally, I’m cursing that bitch, Thirteen. Goddamn her. She’s a traitor to the sisterhood, to humanity. How can she willingly be friends with thesemonsters?

“She understands what we are,” Leon adds, a reverence to his voice that surprises me. I manage to twist my head to look at him, and he meets my gaze with a hard look, making me wonder if I imagined it.

“What, perverted psychos?” I spit out.

Konrad laughs, not in the least bit bothered by my insult. He shucks off his dinner jacket and hangs it over the back of the chair, then rolls up his shirt sleeves, revealing thick forearms, dark hair and protruding veins. My core tightens. “Thirteen knew us before—”

“Before?” I ask, my single-word question a fumble of vowels and consonants. I sound drunk.

“Yes, before we—”

“Kon. Enough!” Jakub warns, his eyes flaring with anger.

His fingers tighten around mine, his thumbs pressing painfully into the back of my hands as he tries to control his outburst and steady me at the same time. Why he even bothers is beyond me. I’d thought I’d seen the tiniest shred of humanity in him before, when we’d been alone together in his room, but I realise now that was just me projecting. I’d held onto the kindness of the boy in my vision, and for a moment allowed that to blur the reality of the man he’s become.

“What? She won’t remember any of this in the morning. What difference does it make?” Konrad counters, sliding off his loafers and climbing up onto the table behind me, placing his legs either side of mine. The width of Konrad’s chest and shoulders make me feel tiny even though I’m not, and when his arms wrap around my stomach, holding me firmly all I can do is let him. I don’t fight it. Even my internal voice quietens, subdued by this drug, his gentle touch, and the lack of pain I usually feel when something is pressed against my ravaged back.

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