Page 2 of Keeper

“Well, if you’re not going to answer my questions, I’m not going to answer yours.” He takes another bite, giving me an opportunity to check the rest of him out. He has wavy black hair under that hat and a neck tattoo I can’t quite make out, but I don’t see any sort of weapon.

Maybe he’s hiding it under the plate of cookies on his lap.

There’s also no blood on the ground, which is a... sign. I just don’t know if it’s good or not. “Do you always ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“Do you?” He nods down at Jake’s body. “Looks like your services are no longer needed here.”

Huffing, I try to keep my face as neutral as possible even though he’s annoying the fuck out of me. “So he is dead. And you’re... what, exactly? Here to reclaim me for someone else?”

“Yup. Tell me the truth.” He grabs another cookie. “Are you relieved?” Before I can respond, Jake begins to stir on the ground, making him curse under his breath. “Guess he’s not as soft as he looks. I’m impressed.” Setting the plate aside, he places the cookie into his mouth and reaches down, snapping Jake’s neck in one swift movement before he makes himself comfortable again. “Where were we? Oh, right. So the Provost has someone new for you.”

Jesus Christ. I’ve been trained not to react in all sorts of situations, but this is a first for me. That crack, the sound of it, the way it set my teeth on edge — that was something new.

My fingers twitch slightly as I fight the urge to run.

“Great. I’ve already got my coat on, so let me get my boots. I’m assuming someone will be by to take care of... this?” I gesture vaguely to Jake’s body, ignoring the pragmatic little bitch in my head reminding me that he wasn’t that bad. He had strange tastes, sure. But he never hit me. Never spoke down to me. I can’t be sure the next one will share those traits. “Or will we just be leaving him here?”

“Don’t worry about him, this will be taken care of. Any chance you know this recipe by heart?”

He grabs the last cookie off the plate, and suddenly I’m wondering how long he’s been here. This is quite the scene he’s made for himself.

“I do.”

“Hmm.” He sits there silently as he finishes up, and even after he stops chewing, he continues to stare at me. “Is it true the Keepers wanted to keep you?”

Selfish little hedonists never wanted to keep anyone except for me. It’s a point of pride, especially since Creed gave me the power to say no. “They did. But they’d have continued training other people and I don’t like to share. It’s the one thing they didn’t manage to train out of me. I was also built for bigger things than the houses of St. Andrew’s Academy.”

“Oh, so you’re possessive.” He licks his lips. “Why did they want to keep you? Specifically.”

Again, asking questions he probably already knows the answers to. This would go a lot faster if he didn’t like to play with his food. “Because I beat them at their own game. It’s never just sex with the Keepers. The Wardens might not think past the tips of their cocks or the barrels of their guns, and the Royals might not care about anything other than pregnant bellies and fancy clothes, but the Keepers are different. They value secrets and the power that comes with them more than they care about orgasms. I played my part until all three of them spilled their deepest secrets to me, things they never even told each other — and then I made them feel so good they forgot exactly how dangerous that made me. They wanted to keep me because I was their proof of concept. I was their greatest achievement.”

His scruffy jaw clenches so subtly, I almost miss it. “And what if you were betrothed to me now? Is that what you’d do to me?”

Is that what this is about? It seems unlikely Creed would make my new future husband come get me himself, but this man seems different. Maybe he asked to. I study his face a little harder to see if I recognize him, but I’d remember if I’d seen him before. Even without the Santa hat, a face like his would’ve stuck out.

I didn’t consider that as a possibility. The whole point of gifting me to powerful men is so Creed can get information without seeming suspicious. If he’s the one I’m meant for, I fucked this up already.

Creed might kill me for it.

“I was told that Hart would be my only job. Once he was gone, I was free.”

“If you believed that, you’re not as smart as you look.” He leans forward to brace on his knees without breaking my gaze. “Is freedom what you really want?”

It hadn’t occurred to me that freedom was in the cards yet. Since Jake was a hacker, he stayed off the radar and mostly kept to himself — I figured he’d live for years. Decades. I assumed my freedom was at the end of a very, very long rope, one I could use to hang myself or hold on for dear life.

But Jake is dead. That future is dead. And Creed, for all his faults, has paid me quite a lot of money for my services so far.

“Yes. I want my freedom.”

He sits back again, his legs spreading a little too welcomely. “Maybe we can help each other out.”

I’m nothing if not well-versed in the art of using my body. I let my eyes drop to his crotch, allow just a little heat to sneak up into my cheeks. Let him see me blush. Let him think I’m meek. “How?”

The feral grin that overtakes his face tells me it worked. “It’s been a lonely Christmas and it sounds like my betrothed doesn’t want anything to do with me. Help me out and maybe I can help you out.”

So it is him, then. If he holds the key to my freedom, I have to be careful. “You never told me your name.”

“The name of a bastard doesn’t matter to most. You can just call mebabyand let me pretend you’re mine for tonight.”

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