Page 90 of Wicked Games

Either way, I need to get over whatever this is so I can go back to the way things are supposed to be and stop caring about what he does and who he does it with.

The stairs are just as dark as the hallway, and I carefully make my way down to the main floor.

I don’t know too much about how the party works, but I overheard some other members talking about it in the dining hall earlier. According to them, the entire building, outside of the basement, will be open for people to roam around and find places to do whatever they’re going to get up to, but the main floor is where the bulk of the party and action is supposed to take place.

I have no clue if the cameras are still on, but considering everyone who attends has to sign an NDA and hand over all of their personal belongings to be locked up, I’m assuming they’ve probably been turned off.

It should be easy enough to do a quick check of the rooms without getting caught. I just have to make sure no one notices me and stay as invisible as possible.

When I reach the main floor, I crack the door open and peek out through the thin strip of space. The stairs open up into a small hallway, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the change in light.

Just like the upstairs hall and the stairs, the chandeliers and wall sconces are lit, but instead of glowing soft white, they’re flickering purple. Unlike upstairs, a few of the recessed lights in the ceiling are also glowing dark purple. It has the same effect as a black light, only it dulls anything white instead of lighting it up.

There’s music playing, and from what I can tell, it’s a remixed classical song. The heavy bass and synthesizers make it hard to be sure, but it sounds like Vivaldi.

Thankfully there’s no one in my immediate area, and I slip out of the stairwell and carefully close the door behind me. A niggle of unease tickles my consciousness, but I ignore it.

One quick look, and I’ll go back to my room.

Steeling my resolve and still sticking close to the walls, I do my best to look like I belong and stride down the hall and into the closest room, which is usually set up as a games room. I keep close to the door and try to look casual as I scan the area for any sign of Killian.

Almost all the couches in the house can be converted into beds. Some are hideaways, but most have platforms built into them that can be pulled out and extend the cushions to either double or queen-sized beds. The ones in this room have been converted, and all three are occupied.

One has a literal puppy pile going on, with about six people rubbing up on each other and rolling around on it. Another has two couples going at it, and the third is occupied by a threesome of girls who are having some enthusiastic fun while a couple of guys enjoy the show.

Everyone is still wearing their masks, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t need to see their faces to find my stepbrother. Killian has a tattoo on the back of his left calf. It’s the only ink he has, and the design was custom, so it’s easy to see from a distance.

Not moving from my place near the door, I scan the room, zeroing in on everyone’s legs. None of the guys have his tattoo. Satisfied that he’s not here, I carefully make my way into the next common area, which is a meeting room.

More of the same is going on, only instead of couches, several raised platforms that look like small stages are scattered around the space. There’s also more light in here since several of the pot lights are glowing their usual white instead of purple, and it feels like I’m under a spotlight as I check out the room.

A few couples and groups are doing their thing on the stages, but there are far fewer people in here, and I’m able to scan for Killian’s tattoo without having to move out of the shadows or away from the walls.

I don’t see him, and I slip out of the room to keep looking.

The next few rooms are exactly the same as the first one I went into, but they’re more crowded the closer I get to the center of the building.

It’s harder to blend in now, and it feels like there’s a giant neon sign over my head that says I’m not supposed to be here. I keep my head up and my strides confident as I walk past clusters of people and cut through small groups that are taking up the entire hallway, keeping my eye out for Killian’s tattoo and checking every dark-haired guy I pass to see if it’s him.

The main lobby is lit up the same as the rest of the floor, but it looks like there are actual black lights in the few pot lights that are on, and my clothes light up like a beacon as soon as I step into the space.

Feeling exposed, I hurry across the lobby and slip through the door that leads to the left wing of the floor.

This side has a much different vibe than the other, and instead of purple lights, everything is red, like a dark room. Even the music is different, and notes of an instrumental metalcore song flow through the speakers, giving the space a Gothic feel with a hint of something dangerous.

This side isn’t as crowded as the other, and I figure out why as soon as I walk into the first common room and see that the couches have been removed and in their place are a few medical exam tables, a Saint Andrew’s cross, two pommel horses, and several platforms with different types of hand and foot cuffs against the walls. Most of them are occupied, and my chest goes hot under my shirt as I look around for Killian’s tattoo. I thought I was into some kinky stuff because I like being bossed aroundand having my stepbrother choke me out, but I’ve got nothing on the people enjoying this room.

When I don’t see him, I breathe a sigh of relief and slip back out into the hallway.

I’m just about to go into the next room when someone grabs my shoulders and shoves me against the wall.

I’m so shocked I don’t have a chance to do more than get my arms up as I stumble into the wall face-first. Luckily I’m able to catch myself on my hands, and my chest takes the brunt of the impact. It’s hard enough to knock some of the wind out of me, and I’m left breathless and gasping as my attacker pins me against the wall with his body.

My first thought is that it’s Killian, but even through my disorientation and fear, I instinctively know it isn’t him. The body feels different, and the scent that envelops me is heavy and dark, with sharp notes of wood and musk and a sickly-sweet undertone that smells a bit like rotting fruit.

My heart drops into my stomach. That’s not Killian’s cologne.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around what’s happening when my attacker drags me down the hall and stops in front of one of the only rooms with a door on it. I try to pull out of his grasp, but he keeps hold of me as he pushes the door open and throws me inside.

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