Page 24 of Marked
A single chair, threadbare and barely upright, rests next to a toppled small shelf. Old dolls lay broken on the tattered rug, glass faces shattered, and a few worn fantasy paperbacks wait among the debris. I crouch and pull the top one off before flipping through it. Mildew and age waft up from the pages. But under the discarded pile of paperbacks, a single manacle on a broken chain glares up at me.
My jaw tightens. What the actual fuck?
“Gage,” I call.
His soft steps breach the doorway, and he whistles. “Fucking a—”
I nod, and heft the cold manacle up for him to see. “What does this look like to you?”
“A holding room.”
My exhale is closer to a growl. “That’s what I thought.” I scrub my hand over my face and rise to my feet.
How old was she the first time her ‘guardian’ locked her in here? Hell, how could he make her parade through a crowd of bloodthirsty supernaturals in lingerie?
I toss the book on the bed and move to walk out. Another novel, half under the discarded bedspread, draws my focus.
An entwined young couple rests over the blood-red cover. The guy sports fangs and a petulant scowl as the girl clings to him. I pick it up gingerly.
Lilac and sea water overpowers the old, well-turned pages. My lips tug against my will. Teen vampire romance?
I chuckle darkly and tuck it into my waistband.
Blackmail is always useful.
“Ruin.” Horan’s voice is mild, easy, but I jog from the room.
Gage and T lean over a desk sequestered in one of the biggest chambers on the hall. The wood is cracked and peeling varnish, but the ledgers are thick and shockingly well-kept. Horan and Caine fill the doorway behind me.
“Seems Victor ‘Vic’ Despaciti had his hands in quite a few cookie jars,” Tanner says and begins sliding a few of the leather-bound tomes to me.
My eyes scan the amounts going in and out of the club, and I can’t stop the whistle.
“He was the go-to for everything from loan sharking to bootlegging,” Gage adds. “There are quite a few properties all over town. Most of them are dives, just like Carnage.” He taps a map of Lock Lake with one pale finger. “Except this one.”
I pull the map over the open books. The address is near the county line, and right off the lake prior. It had to cost a small fortune for that kind of realty.
“Ruin ...” I glance up at Tanner as he speaks. His tan face is empty, but there is a sheen to his grey eyes. A sheen that I don’t quite understand. He shifts. “The girl … Lilah, is listed as the owner for the property. It’s her land. And so is Carnage.”
Gage stares at me. “It seems your little rescue isn’t quite as innocent as we thought.”
Chapter 13
Lilah
When I wake up around sunset, I leave my room and walk aimlessly through the halls. Maids and wait staff move through the corridors, dusting and polishing needlessly. They offer surprised smiles and polite nods. But all I can think about is Ruin’s words the night before.
Hell, he is all I have thought about period.
His scent in the room left me tossing and turning; heat from the fragrance left me on edge, and his words washed it away with icy terror. Succumbing to fatigue around 3AM was either a blessing or a curse.
Every dream was filled with dead supernaturals, car crashes, hot, dark eyes, and Ruin’s hands flowing over my skin. It left my body soaked with sweat, and my hair a disaster of tangled curls from my fingers fisting in them.
I moan. “Damn vampire.”
An older woman in a long sky-blue cloak glances at me as she passes, worn suitcase in hand.
My face heats, and I duck my head before hurrying off.
