Page 3 of Midnight Queen

With an irritated snarl, I yank at the chains. The cuffs around my wrists dig painfully into my skin, but I force myself to ignore the discomfort and keep pulling. Even when I feel my skin break and blood drip down my palms, I keep yanking. I try to shift my feet to gain more leverage, but the chains are so taut on my ankles, I can’t move them a single inch.

Out of breath and wrists hurting, I stop and stare back up at the ceiling. As my chest heaves, I try to anticipate what’s to come.

Orwho’sto come.

I didn’t recognize the man who’d been waiting for me in Ira’s room, but I know I should be afraid of him. I know from the look in his eyes and Ira’s blood dripping down his chin that he’s one of the monsters my mom tried to warn me about. The fact he’s a vampire isn’t what scares me most. It’s that he’s willing to go against Silas. Anyone who is willing to go against their king is either criminally insane or they have nothing to lose. Both options don’t bode well for me.

There’s a loud clanking noise, like a latch being pulled before the metal door slides open. The cold air that had been circulating in the small room hurries out as warmer air brushes against my skin. I want to curl into it, but the sound of footsteps at the doorway has me holding my breath and freezing in place.

When the room goes pitch black and I can’t see farther than an inch in front of my face, my heart thuds against my rib cage. Another switch is flipped somewhere in the room, but this time, an ominous red glow illuminates the space. Adrenaline rushes through my veins like a coursing river as I anticipate what’s to come.

“What makes you so special?” A voice suddenly bounces off the metal walls of the small room. I can’t see him, but I recognize the odd tone. It belongs to the man that used his teeth to rip out Ira’s throat. I hate it almost as much now as I did then. “What could be so special about you that the great and mighty Silas Laurent would go against everything he stands for?”

Now is not the time for a snarky or sarcastic remark, but I’ve always struggled with my lack of filter and that’s why instead of staying quiet like I should, I’m saying, “I like to think it’s my dazzling personality and quick wit.”

Finally, Ira’s killer steps closer to the table, the parts of his face that aren’t hidden by a curtain of dark shoulder-length hair are illuminated by the red light. He doesn’t look like he could be older than thirty, but that means nothing when you’re a vampire. For all I know, he’s been this age for a very long time. His clean-shaven face is pale, but the skin under his hooded eyes is dark with heavy circles. It’s like he hasn’t slept in a hundred years.

His dry, cracked lips pull in a sneer, exposing his slightly crooked teeth. So far, his fangs are tucked safely away, a small gift I’m thankful for. “I never thought I would see the day that Silas fell for a human.” He then smiles to himself. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful he did because it gave me the leverage I’ve been waiting for.” When he speaks, there isn’t any emotion in his tone. It’s robotic. For some reason, I find this scarier than if he were screaming in my face. Even when he smiled, it looked like a rehearsed act. Like doing it wasn’t something that came naturally to him. “For a hundred years, I’ve waited for Silas to make a mistake. I knew it would happen eventually. All I had to do was be patient and my moment would come.” Calculating eyes slide down my exposed body. “I would have waited another hundred years if it meant I got this glorious opportunity.”

Nervously, I lick my bottom lip. “What opportunity? I have no idea what you’re talking about or who you are or what it is Silas did to you.”

I haven’t been in Silas’s world long enough to learn just how deep and dark his secrets run. He told me his past was full of blood and death. I believed him when he said it, I was just naive and believed I’d never have to face his past indiscretions myself. That I would be paying the price for his crimes.

His head shakes in slow, stiff movements as he trails a cold finger down my bare thigh and then down my shin. I’ve never minded Silas’s cool body temperature. In all honesty, I’ve never given it much thought, but as my captor touches me, I’m reminded of the fact that he’s truly not alive. At least not in the way I am. “That’s the unfortunate part of all of this. You did nothing wrong.” His voice is just barely a low whisper. “I’m afraid to inform you that your only crime was falling in love. It’s a shame to be punished for something that’s so natural and such ahumanthing to do, but alas, it will cost you everything. Just like it did her.”

I try to jerk my leg away from his unwanted touch, but the chains keep me stuck in place and at his mercy. “Her? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

His head lifts from where he’d been staring at my body to look at the dark corner behind him. For the first time since he’s entered the room, his eyes reflect emotion. The cold emptiness residing in them is replaced with longing.

“Margret.” He sounds like he chokes on her name as he says it, like her name pains him. “Much like you, Quincey, she was punished for something that wasn’t her fault. In our world, the innocent are always punished for the sins of the wicked.”

He talks to me but still doesn’t look at me. Something else has caught his attention. Searching the dark corner for what’s holding his gaze captive, I find nothing there. It’s empty, just like it’s been since I woke up in here.

Finally, he blinks slowly as if he’s clearing his vision before continuing trailing his finger down my leg again. This time, he stops where the shackle ensnares my ankle.

“He took Margret from me and now I’ll do the same to him,” he vows. “He works in the shadows, taking and doing as he pleases. For a century, I too have been confined to the shadows. Nothing but a ghost. My name and my existence have been long forgotten, but I’m going to remind everyone who I am. And I’m going to remind them that their king isn’t as untouchable as he wants us to believe.”

I stare at my captor, waiting for the punch line of the joke to come, but it never does. Gaping in disbelief at the man, I question, “Surely you’re not this stupid. You can’t honestly think you can go against Silas and win.” It’s true I’ve only gotten glimpses of just how ruthless their king can be, but I know there is a reason that he’s been able to maintain control all these years. He hasn’t given his kingdom any other choice than to bow to him.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he pulls a key from the pocket of his dirty, ripped hoodie and undoes the shackles around both my feet. In a moment I should be feeling relief, all I can feel is dread. He’s not releasing me because he plans on letting me go. No doubt this man has a plan up his filthy sleeve. “Up until this point, Silas has had very few—if any—weaknesses I could exploit. I tried destroying his business and his empire, but honestly, it was futile. He has so much money and resources that any damage I caused could be effortlessly repaired. It was more of an annoyance to him than anything. I thought about taking the woman who works for him, but then you showed up and I saw how he saved you. I knew then that you were my answer—my perfect revenge.”

I don’t know if it makes me feel better that I now know the face and voice of the man who is responsible for me being chased and almost raped that day in the cemetery. The men who’d attacked me had said something about waiting for Della to come that day, but I’d been sent in her place.

The chains from my ankles fall to the ground with a loud ruckus. In stiff, measured movements, he backs away from the table and reaches for a lever on the wall. Before I can so much as take a breath or plead with him, there’s a loud buzzing noise and the red lights flash.

The chains around my wrists pull tight and my heart begins to race.

By my wrists, my body is slowly lifted and moved off the cool surface of the table. I dig the soles of my bare feet into the smooth metal and try to stop myself, but it’s no use. My shoulders and wrists ache as my body is hoisted into the air. Like I’m on some kind of track system, he drags me to the center of the room. My feet dangle a foot off the ground. My legs kick out into the empty air while I pull at the chains again, but just like earlier, the metal doesn’t give. All I end up doing is hurting myself more.

The flashing lights stop, and the loud buzzing silences. Once again, the room is eerily quiet. Frantically, I look around for the man and my stomach drops when I see him setting up the tripod.

“What are you doing?” I demand, but whatever bravery that’s remained in my voice up until this point is gone. My demand sounds more like a whimper—a plea.

“Silas made me watch as he killed Margret. I’m going to make him do the same. I’m going to make themallwatch.” He gives me another one of his cold smiles and presses the button on the side of the camcorder. A small, blinking red light joins the other red lights in the room. Stepping in front of the camera, he pushes the hair out of his face so that every angle is visible. Standing straight and with one last deep breath, he calmly declares, “My name is Gideon Rolfe and I have something that belongs to Silas Laurent.”

Inever thought I could relate to the woman who sits on the bench outside of the hospital with her head in her lap. Sobs rack her body so violently, her entire frame shakes. I do not know who she is, but I understand her pain. While I don’t have tears, I do have her desperation. In between her cries, she pleads with a man who kneels in front of her. I don’t know what it is exactly she’s begging for, but I know that just like me, she’d give anything to have it.

Quincey Page was supposed to be a means to an end. She was going to be another person I would use until they no longer had anything to offer me. She was never supposed to be more than that, but she is.

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