Page 3 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

The tension in the air rises to epic proportions.

I focus my attention back on the groom.

Three more steps and I stand in front of a priest who flips the Holy Bible open, smiling at me, although his hands tremble slightly as he sweeps his gaze over the room.

Bitter laughter sticks in my throat. A priest should protect all those in need behind the church’s walls. Instead, he only adds to the misery by participating in their horrendous crimes.

“Dearly beloved—” he says, but the deep, husky voice laced with something wicked and forbidden cuts him off, sending shivers down my spine.

“No need for all that, Father Paul.”

A gasp slips past my lips when his arm wraps around my waist, my chest bumping against his as he lifts the veil from my face, my nails itching to claw the smug smile from his handsome face.

“Move to the most important part. After all”—he leans closer, his masculine scent mixed with tobacco washing over me—“we have an audience watching us. It’s impolite to keep them waiting.”

“I hate you,” I say under my breath, loud enough for his ears only while Father Paul nods, clearing his throat but not before glancing toward me as if trying to reassure me.

The groom chuckles and puts his hand on my cheek; shivers of disgust flash through me as his thumb brushes over my skin, wiping away the tear. “Hate is such a strong word, ma chérie.” Warning coats his next words while his thumb presses into my chin, sending prickles of pain through my skull. “Use it wisely in my company.” He leans even closer, his breath fanning my cheek as my heart beats so wildly in my chest I’m afraid it might jump out and the monster will take it hostage, not letting me breathe without his permission. “Besides, you wouldn’t want your family’s blood to smear the walls of this church, would you?”

Gazing at him right now, I wonder if he chose me as his willing victim only because my beauty spoke to him, and he refused to doom himself to eternal loneliness in his underworld.

Only to believe that would be a mistake on my part.

For he belongs to a dark brotherhood that brings catastrophes to whoever they see fit as long as it serves their amusement and wishes, ignoring anyone and anything else.

Men for whom compassion, mercy, and sanity do not exist, because they thrive in the chaos they create.

“Do you, Penelope Psyche Walsh, take Remi Odysseus Reyes as your husband and promise to love him till death do you part?”

With love sneaking into every cracked part of my heart toward my family and vicious hate tasting akin to venom on my tongue toward the groom, I reply, “I do.”

With two simple words, I forever seal my fate.

And the most ironic part of it all?

I’m not the one he truly wants.

Chapter One

“Obsessions are dangerous addictions.

Maybe that’s why I love to indulge in them.”

Remi

Chicago, Illinois

A week earlier

Remi

A whimper echoes in the darkness, piercing through the loud classical music blasting from the speakers.

My mouth curves in a sadistic grin as I enter my dungeon.

The unfortunate creatures who end up trapped inside it associate it with hell on earth, where evilness rules and all pleadings fall on deaf ears, because their fear and flesh are too tempting to resist to the monster reigning in it.

I find such comparisons hilarious and misleading even though none of them live long enough to speak about their tortures.

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