Page 109 of Captive Souls

I put mine around the handle of my bag.

I needed something tangible, something unthreatening and real to ground me. To provide evidence that this trip existed, that Knox and I existed, even if it was a gaudy keychain.

I mourned the loss of the painting that they had taken along with me, never to be seen again.

It was so precious, so pure. A piece of Knox’s untainted soul immortalized in art, now soiled by the grubby hands of Stone’s men, lying wherever they’d deigned to discard it. Like it was trash. Not the single most priceless item on this earth.

Luckily, I was distracted by the charming house we pulled up at, the incredibly handsome man who had emerged from it and the intense energy radiating from Knox.

I understood that the man, Lukyan, was dangerous. You could see it. Feel it. He was older than Knox, silver threading through his close-cropped, midnight hair. A small gathering of dark stubble covered his square jaw. He was dressed impeccably in a suit that was quite obviously tailored to his large, imposing frame. This imposing energy was quickly counteracted by his wife joining him outside.

She was small in stature, delicate, striking with soft features. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders, and she was wearing an exquisite sundress covered in lemons—quite obviously designer. Her heels were as well.

I suddenly felt shabby in my jeans and hot-pink sweater with the glaring shiner that I’d poorly covered with makeup.

She didn’t look at me as if I was beneath her, though. Instead, she’d taken a glimpse at my eye, smiled warmly then invited me in for tea.

“I’m Elizabeth,” she said as we entered a grand foyer with fresh flowers and a whole wall of … birds. Birds in frames.

Dead birds. With colorful, exquisite feathers and interesting shapes. An odd décor choice for an otherwise traditionally decorated home. The sight and the presentation of such glorious creatures trapped in a frame in their death, never decaying, was eerie, sending an unpleasant chill down my spine.

I was instantly curious to hear the story behind those birds, to hear the story behind Lukyan and Elizabeth. I knew it must’ve been interesting. Though Knox and I were embroiled in our own story at the moment.

I’d never seen Knox tenser than he was while in that house. Which was saying something. He was not pleased to be there, that much was clear. I wondered why he’d brought us there. I kicked myself for not asking more questions and for once again being on the back foot, scrambling to make assumptions on a scant amount of details.

This man, Lukyan, was obviously an acquaintance of Knox’s. Presumably another member of the underworld yet pledging no allegiance to Stone since he didn’t kill Knox on sight. They weren’t friends. Cordial enemies was the vibe I got. My molars ground together in irritation at Knox not preparing me better.

I hid that well, though, since sulking would do no good.

Plus, it felt nice to be in what passed for a normal situation for once. Engaging in pleasant, friendly conversation and being offered tea. Even if it was a thin veneer of normalcy covering whatever was happening there. It was a sojourn from what awaited us, so I needed to enjoy every second of it.

“Knox,” Lukyan’s voice punctured the conversation Elizabeth and I were having, and if possible, Knox grew even more tense at my side.

“Let’s let the ladies have their tea while we have a cigar,” Lukyan suggested without warmth. “For old times’ sake.”

Though I didn’t know the dynamics between the two of them, I could discern that it would not be a friendly cigar. There was an underlying animosity between the two men that went beyond the fact that they were both apex predators. History, not good history, lingered between them.

Yet there we were.

Knox’s hand, which had been resting at the small of my back, moved to grasp my hip. Tightly.

He paused for a second, the tension in the room reaching a crescendo, my heartbeat roaring in warning that something was on the edge of happening.

Would they get out guns and just start shooting? Surely not. Yet I noted the way Knox’s body angled slightly in front of mine, as if he was waiting for that exact thing.

But then Knox let me go.

“Yes, let’s.” He nodded.

Then he dropped his hand and walked away from me, not looking at me.

Knox

Lukyan closed the door, but not before I heard Piper’s laughtercarry through the house. Only she would be laughing with a stranger married to one of the most dangerous men in the world. A woman who I knew had become dangerous in her own right. I might not have had friends to drink and share idle gossip with, but word of Elizabeth and Lukyan had reached even my ears. The piranha brought down by his prey.

“Drink?” Lukyan offered once we entered the office, decorated in dark browns, a wall of books behind the large mahogany desk.

I hesitated. I didn’t want Piper to taste it on me afterward, but fuck, I needed something to take the edge off.

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