Page 8 of Daughter of a Monster

“Very much so.”

It is the truth and it is a lie. Dance is my life. But getting away from the people who know who I am is more important. I want to carve my own way in the world as far away from my family as possible. His job offer gives me the chance to do that. And I’d still get to dance.

I begin to feel nervous under his glare. He looks at me as though he’s inspecting me. And judging from his expression, I’m failing to meet his standards. His brow is furrowed, his lips set in a firm line despite their fullness.

“That is a good thing. It makes up for what you lack in discipline and technique. You are good, but you are raw.”

I blink, unsure how to respond. I know I’m not the most talented person in the company, but to have a stranger who, as far as I know, has no experience of dance lay it out so bluntly, hurts. Lifting my chin even higher, I open my mouth to respond but he beats me to it.

“What makes you think you have the skills to teach this young girl?”

“Well,” I reply sharply. “Other than the fact that I can dance, I used to be one.”

His brows furrow together. “Be one what?”

“A young girl.”

The line of his mouth changes ever so slightly into what could be construed as a smile, if smiles came in straight lines. “Very well, Miss Berkley. The job is yours, should you accept.”

“Really?” I can’t hide the surprise that takes over my face.

He almost smiles again. “Really.”

“But I thought you didn’t want an—” I stop myself from continuing. The man just offered me the position. There is no need to talk him out of it. A glimmer of hope sparks inside. I can escape. I can start again. I can put an end to this chapter of my life and start fresh. Again.

“I believe Ette will like you and she is at the age where imparting lessons from someone she likes is an advantage. That is, of course, if you’re willing to end your time with Miss Marchand. The successful applicant will have to live at my estate. It is isolated. There will be no popping to the city to visit your friends. I will understand if you wish to stay and pursue a career in performance.”

“My time here is done.” I don’t offer any further explanation, choosing not to tell him that the position sounds like a dream to me right now. “So, thank you. I’d be honored to accept.”

Mr Priest nods. “I will forward the paperwork to you then send someone to collect you next week. Is that suitable?”

I would have preferred if he said the morning. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can breathe again. But all I say is, “Yes, that’s suitable.”

“Very well, Miss Berkley. Good evening.”

His eyes lock on mine.

My mouth grows dry but I can’t look away. There’s something so magnetic but terrifying about him. Something dark and dangerous and yet so distant and detached.

While locked in his gaze a flash grips me. But this time it’s different. Instead of the usual flash of images burning like lightning, this one is a continuous motion. Almost a scene.

I’m kneeling at his feet. I’m naked. Every inch of my skin is ablaze with sensation. I see it as if I am in the shadows watching myself. Jericho is fully clothed, dressed in the same suit as now. His finger reaches out and tips my chin, lifting my head to look up at him. His eyes are like black sapphires.

The image is so visceral, so real. It’s as though the scene has already played out and it’s the memory of it flashing through my mind.

And then it vanishes and I’m left cold, my heart beating wildly and Jericho Priest nowhere to be seen.

chapter four

JERICHO

“Welcome back to the Black Swan, sir,” the bouncer opens the door and nods in deference. He doesn’t know me, not personally, but he knows who I am.

Pushing my sunglasses to the top of my head, I duck slightly as I walk into the entrance of the club. Music pulses. Lights flash and glow. Dice rattle. Coins fall. There’s an undercurrent of wealth and desperation so strong you can almost smell it. It’s the perfect combination. The thrill of winning clashing with the misery of loss. The perfect storm.

“Mr Priest, we didn’t know you were coming in.” The manager, Darla, stumbles over her words and blushes. She’s always nervous when I’m around. It’s a trait I like in employees. She’s also a hard worker and good at her job. Fair but firm. Kind but tough.

“Many in there tonight?” I nod toward the door at the rear of the club. There’s nothing announcing its presence other than the bouncer and the symbol of a black swan above the entrance.

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