Malum part 2

Tillie

Rubble is embedded into my flesh, my throat dry from thirst.

“Daemon?” I whisper hoarsely, tilting my head to face his cell.

He comes closer until he’s leaning into me, my back touching his. Warm comfort flushes through me, and I sigh, exhaling instantly.

“What, Puella?”

“How are you alive? I heard your death was brutal. You died.”

When he doesn’t answer right away, I turn to face him, bringing my hand to the back of his neck. I crank his face toward me. “How?”

His eyes search mine, empty black pits of obscurity. Daemon breaks my heart. He was doomed from the start, never given a fair go. Even less than me, or—I look toward Abel, watching as he tilts his head back to rest on the cold wall, his hoodie dropping over his eyes. Maybe even Abel.

I go back to Daemon. “Then what happened?”

Daemon, in his broken language, starts to slowly explain. “They fixed the parts they could and the others…”

“The others?” I whisper, my hand coming to his arm.

“Are still broken.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?” I ask, anger simmering.

He shakes his head. “No, Mic—”

I shake my head. “No, Daemon. I won’t talk about her.”

His face falls. “Okay, Puella.”

“I will get us out,” I say, rubbing my palm up and down Daemon’s arm. I look to Abel who has already got his eyes on me. “All of us.”

Abel gives me a strange look but doesn’t say anything else.

A door cracks open and slams shut. Footsteps thud down the cold corridor matching the beat of my heart.

I know who it is without looking.

“Let me out,” I retort, my tone flat.

I see his shadow shift out of the corner of my eye, kneeling down to my level.

“I thought you didn’t mind playing games?” Nate’s voice takes hold of my heart and squeezes.

I bring my eyes to his, dead and expressionless. “I do when I’m the coach.”

I try to squash what he does to me, but it’s no use. I will always be powerless when it comes to Nate, but I control how I exude it. Conceal, don’t feel, and all of that.

He stands, swiping his hands on his pants and unlocking my cell door. “The two of you need to come with me.”

I crank my head over my shoulder to look at Abel. “I take it Bishop knows about him now?”

Nate’s hand comes to mine and the electricity that zaps through has me rearing away from him.

We start walking down the corridor, following Nate’s broad back. He unlocks a heavy metal door and pushes it open as he leads us up large rectangular concrete steps. Candles line every step, like something out of a medieval castle. The walls are elegantly decorated with expensive looking art, framed in thick gold metal.

“Nate?” I whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

We get to the top to find another door. He opens that and instantly, the aged medieval feeling is replaced with modern furnishings and marble floors. We’re in the foyer of the mansion. Flushed with crystal furnishings, white-washed walls. I follow Nate down the hallway until he stops at the opening of a room at the very end that has no door.

He turns to face me, his eyes hardening on mine.

“Why?” I ask the one thing I’ve wanted to know since I woke up in the dungeon. “Was nothing real for you? Was she not real for you?”

His hand flies to my throat and he squeezes roughly. “Don’t fucking speak of her ever again.”

I slap his arm and my knee flies between his thighs, hitting him straight in the dick. “I lost her too, asshole.”

He lets go of me like I stung him and backs up, his face going pale. It a

I shrug him off and step forward into a room large enough to hold a business conference. There’s one stretched rectangular table that’s displayed in the middle of the room with about twelve chairs all placed with precision around it. And every chair that’s around it has a King sitting in it. Bishop is at the head, and when Abel and I enter, Bishop’s eyes go straight to him.

“Sit.” Bishop points to the chairs and I move over to them with Abel right behind me.

We both take a seat, Nate pulling out the empty one beside me. His presence instantly makes me queasy.

“Tell me why Khales had you locked in a cell and why the fuck do you look like me?”

Abel flicks his hoodie off his head.

Nate chuckles. “Twins?”

Abel shakes his head. “Nah. Different moms.”

Bishop works his jaw so hard I think it might pop. “Carry on.”

“Khales had been using my mom as bait since I met her last year at a party. We fucked, and then fucked some more. Obviously now I know why…” Abel runs his fingers through his hair. “She told me about you. She came clean with the parts she wanted me to know, but not everything I should know. She told me that I had a brother and that he didn’t know about me. A few days ago, she caught me in bed with someone else. Lost her shit and killed my fucking mom before bringing me here.”

“Sounds like her,” I mumble. Nate’s thick thigh presses against mine under the table and my chest tightens from the co

Bishop pauses, tilting his head. “Why did she keep you, that’s the question. I’m not at all surprised about your existence, but Khales never made impulsive decisions. Everything was always calculated with her.”

Abel shrugs. “Don’t fucking know. But she kept me for something.”

Bishop nods, his finger working over his upper lip. “We’ll find out.”

My eyes catch Brantley, who is already watching me. “Aw, what’s the matter, Bran Bran. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Perdita isn’t good for my soul. I can feel it digging its claws into me. I need to get out if I’m not going to stay. I need to escape and take Abel and Daemon with me.

Brantley doesn’t falter, his lip kicking up in a snarl. “Bran Bran? Pretty bold nickname coming from someone who I can fuck without permission, don’t you think?”

I tilt my head and give him back his smile. “Who’s to say permission wouldn’t be granted, Bran Bran.”

“Tillie!” Bishop snaps at me and I divert my attention back to the head of the table.

“Yes?”

Bishop stills, his eyes piercing into me like I had seen him do to Madison so many times before. Being on the receiving end of it, though, not so fu

“Let me go—”

“No,” Nate interrupts, and I snap my attention straight to him. This table is full of Kings and Abel is sitting right beside me, but all I see is Nate. All I care about is Nate and why he thinks he can hold me here.

“Why!” I throw up my arms to add to my dramatics.

My chest tightens when he looks at me. His eyes are enough to grip onto every single human emotion that’s inside of me and flip it upside down. I feel for Nate. I do. I’m in love with him, but I will never expose my feelings to him. You can’t. Once you expose your love for someone, you’ve surrendered your power, and in this case, my forgiveness. I won’t let him win. Not this time, and not any time soon.

Nate leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Because I don’t want to.”

I pause, allowing his words to sink into my brain. I blink a few times, count to ten, and then open my mouth. “Because you don’t want to?” Then I look around the table, my eyes falling on Bishop. “You mean to tell me that the reason you’re keeping me here is because he wants me here and that’s it?”