December (The Page Sisters Book 1) (26 page)

THE PRESENT

Something cold and wet touches my forehead. I jerk back and crack my heavily eyelids open. Luke’s vivid green eyes stare down into mine. He smiles and he’s all teeth. I flinch back involuntarily. He’s too close. It’s like waking to find a toothy crock in front of my face. 

He puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Easy, December.”

The warm glow of flickering candles casts shadows against the walls of a dim formal dining room. My arms and legs are bound to a chair. I shift in the chair I’m tied to, then glance around the plated table set for two and blink, confused.

His crock smile broadens. “I thought a little date would be nice. Things didn’t go as I planned when you first arrived, and I feel bad about it.”

Things didn’t go as planned when I first arrived?

He makes it seem like I had a choice in coming here.

I didn’t.

Luke slides his hand down my arm, marveling at the quivering flesh beneath his fingers. I go completely still, staring at his big palm that’s capable of many perverse things.

“You’re shaking, December. Are you all right?”

He’s playing his fucking mind games with me. A yes or no answer is the wrong response. If I say yes, then he’ll take this as a sign to take his insane antics further. And if I day no, then Luke will prolong my suffering as much as possible. A yes or no answer simply won’t do.

Instead of going for the bait, I whisper, “May I have my hands please?”

“You may not.” He takes a seat in the chair next to me and begins cutting the grilled steak into little cubes. I watch in horror as the sharp blade of a knife slices through the thick meat like soft butter. That knife can do damage. He could kill me if he wanted. He glances at me through his lashes as if reading my mind. “You haven’t said anything about your dress. It’s lovely. You’re a vision in white.”

My gaze lowers to the white tulle skirt of a dramatic wedding dress I’m wearing. My heart races painfully inside my chest, my breathing is erratic. This isn’t a wedding dress he picked out. He planned this. This is the Cinderella dress I lost my virginity in.

Luke grins when he captures my expression. “Do you like my tux? This is a special occasion for us.”

I don’t answer.

He stops cutting the steak and reaches down on the side of him. He pulls out a handheld mirror, bringing it up to my face. “Look. I even got you a crown. It sparkles just like your eyes.”

I stare at the wide-eyed girl in the mirror. Dark waves spills around her paled face, falling down her shoulders. Her eyes are reddening with unshed tears and her lips are closer to blue than rose. And the glittering tiara is glistening as if it’s made from all the tears I can’t release. 

“I knew you’d like it,” Luke says, putting the mirror away. “Now let’s eat.”

Keeping anything down would be near impossible.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You must eat, December.”

“Please, my stomach is unsettled. I will get sick if your force anything down my throat.”

“I won’t force anything down your throat.” Luke’s expression is amused, but he continues to cut the steak until it’s all in cubes. He forks up a piece of steak and little bit of mashed potatoes, then smiles at me as he brings the food up to my mouth. “I will assist, December.”

Vomit burns in the back of my throat from the smell of food alone. “I’ll get sick.”

His green eyes roam over my face for a short eternity. He frowns as if disappointed at what he finds. “You know how fond I am of games. This is all a game, December. There are different levels to this. If you want your chance to escape, then you must pass this level in order to advance to the ultimate prize: Your freedom. It’s all very simple.”

I stare at him, skeptical but so desperate to flee from his choking grip. “Will you give me an honest chance to escape?”

“On my life,” he vows, sincerely looking into my eyes. “You’ll get the chance you’ve been waiting for. The real question is, are you brave enough to take it?”

Fighting against my instincts, I open my mouth and he feeds me. The food is tasteless and my tongue is heavy. Luke watches my struggle with pleasure as I force every swallow down with effort. The rope bounds me, sears into my skin from all the writhing I’m doing.

“Very good, December,” he compliments once the food is half eaten. “You must be thirsty after all that.” He brings up a glass of blood-red wine to my lips.

I wince and he smiles.

I know what happens when I drink from the goblet of poison. Blackness. The world before me will disappear and I will blackout. He likes to make me sleep when I don’t want to. Luke knows that’s my weakness. I fear what will happen to my body in my absence. The origin of my fear steams from Riley. Riley drugged me and my body was not my own when that happened.

The food in my stomach threatens to come back up. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“Remember the levels, December.”

My fingernails scrape the polish off the wooden chair as I shift nervously. “You’re enjoying this.”

He winks at me. “My enjoyment should be obvious, love.” He brings the rim of the glass to my lips. I watch petrified at the thick red contents slouching against the slides. “I guarantee that this will be the sweetest wine you’ve ever tasted. I need you to drink it all.”

My lips are quivering as I open then and drink it down. He’s right. The wine is sweet—sickly sweet. I lick at my lips and frown because I can’t feel them.

Luke watches my building panic and relishes in it. “Is something wrong, December?”

“My lips are numb.”

“A minor side effect.” He traces my bottom lip with his index finger. “You’ll feel them again shortly.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep.” The drug is working fast. My eyelids grow heavy.

“Don’t fight it. It’ll be easier if you don’t.”

The blackness hits me suddenly. I don’t have time to respond. One minute I’m staring at a smiling predator, the next I’m out cold.  

***

Freezing. I am freezing. My body can’t get warm. With a startled gasp, I jolt awake in the snowy woods. There’s a small note in my open palm with only one word written across it in bold crimson.

RUN.

My limbs are sluggish and my brain is frantic with only the thoughts of self-preservation.

Must get away.

I lurch to my feet. My head begins to swim. I fight against the unnatural dreaded slumber with all my might and I dart further into the snowy woods. I run and run and run until my lungs are overworked and my heart is pounding through my chest.

Pine and snow. Pine and snow. There’s nothing but the bleak grounds of woods and thick cold snow. It’s a winter horrorland made of nightmares. It’s like I’m running circles with no sense of direction. It’s an endless loop of green and white. There aren’t any roads or any sign of a nearby town. It’s deafening silent. I’m in the forest, running for my life down untrodden paths without a weapon or even a coat to battle the frosty climate. I’m still in the Cinderella dress with my only leather boots on my feet for protection.

This is a game.

I am the prey.

So

I

run.

Fatigue takes over and I cling to one of many pine trees, out of breath and gasping. The rough bark presses harshly into my skin. The winter chill soaks into my bones. It’s like I’m breathing in shards of ice. My teeth involuntarily chatter together. I ache for freedom and warmness. I glance at the burnt orange sunset, longing to feel the kiss of the hot sun on my skin. There is no getting warm.

Something in the distance behind me snaps a branch.

I’m lost but not alone.

I race throughout the forest, then suddenly a heavy hand grips the back of my dress.

Captured.

My heart plummets in my chest.

“No, no, no.” I fight Luke hard.

We’re a mess of scrambling limbs, struggling for victory. His able hands constrict brutally around my waist, holding me to him. He leaves his face open. My fist connects to his nose with all my strength. A horrible cracking sound turns my stomach. Blood sprays everywhere.

“Fuck,” he yells, dropping me.

I hurry on my feet and barrel past him, not daring to look back.

“You better run, because when I hit back something inside you will break,” he bellows furiously. 

Moving forward, I sprint north of the woods where the trees gather closely together. Branches grip and tear at my dress and scratch and whip at my vulnerable flesh until streaks of blood drip from my face and arms. The path becomes narrower with tangled branches and thorny bushes. I shuffle down on my hands and knees and crawl through the freezing snow. My fingers and toes have gone numb. But I can’t stop. Luke will kill me. Ahead, I spot a large hollow in a massive tree.

Thorns split open my forehead and warm blood pours down my face, turning the fabric of my white dress and the snow below red. I try my best to shovel the red snow the best I can. I don’t want to leave more than boot prints behind. Luke is a good Hunter. He doesn’t need an obvious trail of blood to know where I am.

And I don’t want him to find me.

It is game over if he does.

I crawl into the empty hollow and bring my knees up to my chest, rocking myself as I stare out into the darkening forest. My shivering amplifies and every muscle in my body is jerking uncontrollably. A small hysterical laugh bubbles out of me. It’s in the dead of winter and I’m bleeding profusely, hiding in a hollow of tree where I will be hunted like swine and killed.

It starts to snow heavily. The flurries rain down in thick cotton specks, obscuring a person’s silhouette. I squint hard, seeing nothing but an unclear form getting closer. Panic surges through my veins as I scurry into the depth of the dark hollow.

I’m trapped.

He’s found me.

Desperate, I unlace the strings of my boots and tie them together to make a slipknot. I can choke him to death if I can only get this around his neck.

I close my eyes and breathe in deep through my frozen nostrils. I can do this. I have to do this.

Warm hands grasp my arms and I scream, dropping my noose to the ground. A palm settles over my mouth. When I open my eyes, strange silver irises stare at me. It’s an angel. Nothing human can be this excruciatingly beautiful. His features are striking in such an appealing way he seems unearthly. Everything from his high cheekbones to the sensual curve of his mouth is alluring.

He’s too perfect.

He places his finger over his lips and I nod. This angelic being swiftly removes his black trench coat and drapes it around my shoulders. I shiver fiercely from the warm contact. It’s so pleasant it hurts. His deft fingers button it all the way to my neck.

I reach out with a trembling hand and touch his short platinum blonde hair. It’s incredibly soft.

“Your skin is ice cold and you’re bleeding,” he states in a pleasantly firm accented voice.

I grit my teeth to keep them still enough to respond. “Are you real?”

“I am, and so are you.”

“You’ve come to save me?”

His liquid silver eyes meet mine with intense longing. “I have.”

“What took you so long?” I mumble into his warm chest when I rush to embrace him.

He’s hesitant before he puts his big arms around me. “I’m here now.”

I’m flooded with elation and hope as I snuggle more and more into him. My face is buried in his thick black sweater when I release a sob. This gorgeous man is stroking my hair and hugs me tight like I’ve been missing from his life.

“We have to move, December,” he whispers into my hair.

“I can’t,” I say through my sob, clutching him as if he might disappear. 

Maybe he’s an illusion my dying mind conjured up.

One last pleasant sight before my eyes close forever.

He cups my face in his hands and stares into my eyes. “You can. We have to move. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

I nod and we break apart.

He grabs my hand and entwines our fingers but remains facing forward. “Stay behind me at all times. Understood?”

“Yes.”

The sky is nothing more but an endless black sea of dead starts. He runs and I have no choice but to limp and run behind him because we are linked by our hands. We race through the dark forest. A bloodcurdling scream echoes throughout the woods. Terror ripples down my spine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand. I cry frozen tears. He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. He leads me towards the soul-shattering screams. The shouts get louder and louder.

He looks at me over his shoulder with luminous retinas that seem to glow in the dark. “Shut your eyes, December.”

The screams have stopped and the smell of metallic blood scents the cold air in a thick cloud.