Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3) (52 page)

Terrified, I shook my head no.

“What’s that?” he said sarcastically. “I can’t hear you.
DO THEY SERVE BETTER TEA BACK AT THE MANSION?” he
shouted directly into my face.
Before I had a chance to
answer him, he slapped me hard against the opposite cheek
and whispered into my ear, “You’re a spoiled little brat. But
you’re not like those other little whores—obedience can be
taught. Purity cannot. I’ve waited long enough for you. Drink
it all—now!”

He shoved the teacup against my mouth, grabbed me
by the hair and tipped my head back.
With one hand, he
forced my lips open and poured the tea with the other. Hot
liquid scorched across my tongue and down my throat. When
I began to cough and choke on it, he let go of my hair and
allowed my head to drop. As I hacked and gasped for air, a
sharp pain ripped through my right side. It felt I was being
disemboweled from the inside outside out.
When I finally
caught my breath, he asked, “Are you ready to drink the rest
the right way?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

Despite the pain in my side, I leaned forward in a
show of obedience. He placed the rim of the cup to my lips
and I drank it all as quickly as I could.

Once the cup was empty, he looked at me lovingly.
“You know it’s bad luck to see the groom before the wedding,
Kira. Hush, close your eyes—it won’t be long now.”

That’s when it hit me. My situation was more serious
than I even guessed.
While Jonas kept the other girls for
weeks and even months before killing them, I wasn’t going to
suffer the same fate. One of two things was going to happen
to me. Either he would kill me or he would “marry” me—
maybe even both.
Whatever he decided to do to me, he was
going to do it to me tonight. Whatever he put in my tea was
powerful—there was no way to fight it. My eyelids began to
feel exceedingly heavy and within seconds, I was out.

39. Red Reception
“Oh, this production is going to be grander than I ever
imagined it could be! It was so kind of you to join us, Roarke.”

Before
I even opened my
eyes, I knew what that
phrase truly meant—Zach was here!
Clay found a way to get
Rachel’s attention and Zach flew to my rescue as always.
Jonas
was
a small man
and
absolutely
no match for my
superhero boyfriend.
A
small scuffle would ensue, Zach
would overpower him, and I would be freed from my velvet
restraints in no time. Or at least I
thought
I knew what that
meant.

I lifted my eyelids in sheer relief but what I saw was
nowhere even close to what I was imagining. I was back in
the small room where I’d found Crimson, seated with my back
to the staircase that led down to the dressing room. Zach was
there too—just like I hoped he would be—but he was sitting
in a chair across from me, bound and gagged the same way I
was. He looked as helpless as he did the day I ran away and
left him broken at the bottom of the stairs. His fear of running
out of luck was more than just a fear now—it was reality. But
if Rachel sent him to save me, she would have called the police
as well, right?
All we had to do was wait. Yes, we just had to
wait a few more minutes for them.

“The show is about to begin! Does everyone
remember their lines?” Jonas asked as he removed the gag
from my mouth first and then from Zach’s.

“Keep your hands off of her you sick, sadistic son of
a—,“ Zach shouted the very second his mouth was free.

“THAT IS NOT THE CORRECT LINE!” Jonas shrieked as
he belted Zach across the face.
There was something in
Jonas’s hand but I couldn’t make out what it was.
Whatever
he hit him with left an instant welt on his cheek and caused a
small bit of blood to trickle from the corner of his mouth.

My first instinct was to scream at Jonas to stop hurting
Zach but if I wanted to survive, I needed to stay silent and so
did he. After all of those times that he seemed to think that I
was psychic and could read his mind, now would have been a
good time for him to actually be right.
But of course he
wasn’t. Our connection to each other was powerful but not
quite that strong.

“Kira, either accept my heart or sacrifice it. The choice
is yours.” Jonas said as he paced the room in the same manner
that he used to pace the stage when the actors disappointed
him. “That is your line, Roarke. Say it. Deliver it.
Feel
it.”

Zach hesitated for a fraction of a second too long and
took another blow from Jonas before obeying his orders.
“Kira, either accept my heart or sacrifice it. The choice is
yours.”

“Excellent delivery, Roarke!
I could hear the raw
emotion in your voice. You were quite convincing. Yes, the
audience
is
convinced.
I am
very
pleased
with
your
performance.” Jonas squealed gleefully.

Jonas didn’t realize it, but Zach’s line was believable
because he was in the exact same situation that Roarke was
in. Our relationship was near perfect when Lucas walked in
and “stole” me away from him. I’d tried so hard to sort out my
feelings for the two of them but when I couldn’t completely
figure things out, I turned my back on Zach.
Then Lucas
turned his back on me. I was a fool to think that Lucas could
even possibly come close to loving me enough to risk his life
for mine. Zach, on the other hand, had proven his love to me
countless
times. Based on Kira’s next line in the play,
hopefully, it wouldn’t be one time too many.

“Okay, Kira—now it’s your turn to shine!” Jonas said
as he walked around behind my chair. “Now do a very good
job because this is the final line of the play. At the end of this
scene, the curtain lowers and you and I can finally be together
without
him
standing in the way.”

As Jonas fidgeted with something behind my back,
Zach got a look of pure terror on his face. What could he see
that I couldn’t? Jonas reached around from behind and placed
something into my right hand and I instantly knew why Zach
was wrought with fright.
A gleaming pistol now sat in my
hand.

It was clearly not a water pistol or a toy of any kind—
it was real. The sheer weight of it attested to that fact. I’d
never held a real gun in my hand before and I’d certainly
never had the urge to shoot one. But that was exactly what
Jonas expected me to do, wasn’t it? Just like in the play, he
wanted me to shoot the man I loved and choose him instead. I
couldn’t do it. I
wouldn’t
do it. No amount of torture in the
world could make me desperate enough to do it. Jonas was
going to have to kill
me
instead because the thought of pulling
the trigger on Zach made me sick inside.

If I could only loosen my bindings enough, I could turn
the gun on him. I wriggled my wrist against the thick cloth
but it was simply too tight. The velvet burned against my skin
as I desperately tried to free myself. I struggled so hard that I
broke into a sweat but was still no closer to freedom.

“Be still, my love. It’s almost over now. Take a
moment and rehearse your line in your head, Kira.” Jonas
moved over to where Zach sat and grabbed him roughly by
the chin. “Look into his eyes and say it—I choose sacrifice!
Then, pull the trigger. We share our kiss then exit stage left.”

Frantically, I searched for a way to buy myself some
time. Even just a few seconds might be enough to save a life.
My hesitation bought me nothing but rage from Jonas.
He
grabbed me—chair and all—and dragged me along behind
him.

“You’re wasting time—precious, precious time. Look
at this!” he exclaimed as he approached the poorly boarded
up window. “The city lights are already dancing for us, ready
to celebrate our happy union!” With brute force, he wrenched
the boards from the frame and shoved my face toward the
opening. “Watch how they twinkle in anticipation—don’t
make them wait.”

The icy wind rushing in through the open window bit
at my face but I felt an odd wave of heat begin to trickle down
my back.
Not now!
The danger just doubled—Allison was
back. Tied up and without any hope of escape, I lost all hope
for myself. All I really wanted now was for Zach to make it
out of this alive.

“I’m ready for my line, Erik,” I said, hoping that by
referring
to him
by
the Phantom’s name, Jonas
may be
pleased enough with my performance that he would allow
Zach to live.

As he dragged my chair back into position, I caught
sight of Allison. I could feel the depth of her rage—if only she
could realize that Jonas should be her target and not me. She
had an opportunity to get revenge on her killer but there was
no way for me to communicate that to her.

The room was almost hot enough to catch fire and I
was afraid that it might actually be possible.
Jonas seriously
freaked out the day Allison lit the candles on stage for fear
that the theater would turn into an inferno in mere seconds. I
was most afraid of drowning but being incinerated alive was
my second worst fear of how I would meet death.

“I choose sacrifice!” I announced as convincingly as I
could.
And I did choose it—I just chose to sacrifice myself
instead of Zach.
If I got Allison to attack me again, it might
create enough chaos for Zach to somehow get away. So after
my line, I whispered the word, “Allison.”

Jonas leapt up and down with excitement, “Now pull
the trigger, Kira. Pull it!” he urged.

Allison took on an unearthly glow as though she were
burning internally and slowly drifted toward us.
I looked
over at Zach—I wanted to etch the memory of his face into my
brain.
Once I was dead, I wanted to remember love and
happiness—not anger and revenge. If I couldn’t be at peace, I
certainly didn’t want to be a wraith. As I braced for my own
demise, Zach silently mouthed one sentence to me, “I would
take a bullet for you.”

That was it—I couldn’t take any more. I sealed my
eyes shut and waited for the worst to come. By “worst”, I
expected to get my tongue clipped out, to be flung across the
room with ungodly supernatural force. “Worst” wasn’t
supposed to be what happened next.

“I think she needs help—I don’t think she can move
her hand enough to pull the trigger. You need to help her.”

I was in complete shock.
Zach was trying to help
Jonas complete his masterpiece by actually having me shoot
him! Did he expect me to hit him somewhere superficially? I
had zero experience with weapons—only sheer dumb luck
would allow me to fire off a shot and only graze him. What
was he thinking?

“I admire your dedication to this performance,
Roarke,” Jonas replied.

I felt a hand close around my own—the one clutching
the pistol.
Delicately, he guided my finger into place and slid
his on top of mine. He was going to pull the trigger while my
finger was still on it. That wouldn’t technically make me a
murderer but that wouldn’t save me from the overwhelming
guilt I would carry with me for the rest of my life. Why did
guilt seem to follow me around like a lost puppy?

Suddenly, sheer chaos broke out in the room and I
ditched my resolve to keep my eyes closed until it was all
over. Zach was still firmly bound to his chair and Allison was
still several feet away but what sounded like a life or death
struggle was ensuing behind me. Jonas was no longer holding
my finger on the trigger so I slid it out and released my grip
on the gun.

Before I could ask Zach what was
going
on,
he
shouted, “Get’em Lucas! You can take him!” with the same
fervor as when he cheered on his favorite football team while
watching a game.

Lucas!
I sent Clay to find help but he never returned.
Zach ended up in the same dire situation that I was in. If the
police were going to show up, they would have been there by
now. When I thought all hope was lost, I never considered
that Lucas might come looking for me. I never dreamed that
he would be the one to save me. He was a better person than
I thought he was.
He cared more about me than I thought he
did. But why did that make me so sad?

Why?
Because
I thought that
Zach showed more
devotion to me and my safety than Lucas did.
It drew me
closer to Zach and the decision that I dreaded making didn’t
seem so tough after all. But now…I was right back where I
started from.
Two boys, one girl, and zero idea of how to
resolve the situation.

“No, Lucas, focus! Hang in there!” Zach bellowed over
my shoulder. “You can’t give up now!”

“I’m trying, Zach! But he’s stronger than he looks!”
Lucas cried out between painful grunts. “I can’t keep this up
much longer!”

Then a brilliant idea hit me.
Boys always tried to
solve their problems using muscle.
Girls had to be craftier
and use their brains. There was a powerful force in the room
that I could possibly twist to our advantage. Or it could turn
against us and make the entire situation ten times worse.
Either way, it was my fault that we were all in such incredible
danger so I had to at least try to get us all out alive.

“Lucas, I’m going to yell one word and when I do, I
want you to push Jonas toward the center of the room with
every ounce of strength you have left, okay?”

“Okay,” he called between panting breaths. “I’ll try.”

 

“ALLISON!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Whereas a whisper brought her slowly toward the
center of the room, a shout caused her to fling herself forward
until she was almost touching me. With more fury than she
displayed earlier, she shrieked with such a high pitched wail
that the entire room began to shake.