Текст книги "Darkest distiny"

Автор книги: Pepper winters

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Chapter Three

“WE ALL NEED TO GO. RIGHT NOW,” I whispered into the ear of the closest blonde. About my age, she smelled as if she’d drowned herself in vanilla-laced strawberries. “Help me alert the rest, and we’ll use sheer numbers to get out of here.” I scanned the men congregating by the gatehouse after successfully testing every woman here.

Only ten of them. One hundred of us. The math worked in our favour if I could convince everyone to run.

“But why?” Her button nose wrinkled. “Why do we need to go?”

“They’re up to something.”

“Up to something?” Her faint concern bled into scorn. “Yeah, alright. So what you’re really saying is you’re trying to thin the crowd by removing at least enough of us so you’re one of the thirty who get the free spa weekend?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “I’d be driving myself back to London by now if I could steal the bus keys.”

“You’re so weird.” Rolling her eyes, she went to move away, but I grabbed her wrist.

“Listen to me. Something is off about all of this. We need to go.”

“The only thing that’s off is you.” Wrenching out of my grasp, she weaved through the crowd and vanished.

Ugh.

My headache pressed a little worse, and I did my best not to let stress get the better of me. I couldn’t afford to have vasovagal syncope—also known as a stress blackout that I’d apparently inherited ever since that fateful day when my parents accidentally killed themselves in the most horrific way possible.

“I just overheard what you said.” A willowy Asian girl with hair as black as mine sidled up to me. Keeping her gaze on the men in front, she whispered, “What makes you think something is wrong?”

I narrowed my eyes, trying to see if she’d come to laugh at me or was genuine. Either way, it didn’t matter. “When I refused to give my blood, the man in charge figured out a way to take it anyway.”

“Why would he do that?” Another girl appeared, honey-brown hair with yellow highlights glinting like gold in the sun. “This is a spa retreat. Not some crazy conspiracy.”

“I don’t know why.” I shrugged, sandwiched between the two women. “But I do know we shouldn’t go in there. No one should go in there.”

“But what if we know what’s in there and don’t appreciate you ruining it for the rest of us?” The stunning black-haired girl suddenly turned to face me, trapping me against the other one. Leaning far too close, her lips grazed my ear. “What if most of us know exactly what we’re doing and the rest of you clueless idiots are just here to make up numbers?”

“What...what are you talking about?” I scrambled away, rubbing my arms as goosebumps erupted. “You actually know what all of this is?”

“Of course we do.” The two girls shared a look before breaking into mocking laughter. “We’ve been training for years for this opportunity.”

“Training?”

They nodded smugly. “Like we said. We know what’s in there. Who’s in there. And we’re not about to let you rile up the crowd and ruin it.”

“Ladies!” Marcus Ward’s voice cut through the garden, amplified by his microphone. “I’m happy to announce that we’ve finished compiling the lucky thirty. If you’d be so kind to stand to the side when your name is called, we’ll have you in a hot tub with a cocktail before sunset!”

A cheer went up as the women nudged and grinned at each other.

“Serena Voss.”

“Yay!” A pretty auburn-haired, curvy girl dashed through the crowd to stand alone to the left.

“Keira Holt.”

“OMG!” Another curvy blonde ran to join Serena.

“Nadia Waters.”

“Ahhhh!”

The list went on and on, followed by squeals of joy and impromptu dancing.

Turning away from the spectacle, I focused on the two girls still hemming me in as if ready to silence me if I started making a scene.

“What’s in there?” I asked quietly. “Who’s in there?”

The black-haired girl smirked. “That’s not any of your business. You were one of the lottery invites. The law of chance that maybe someone plucked off the street would be able to achieve what we’ve been groomed to do. But the likelihood of you getting in is zero.” She patted my shoulder. “So don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Lydia Swift.”

“Oh, that’s me. Would you look at that.” The girl with golden highlights smirked. Before leaving, she leaned in and whispered, “My suggestion is to keep your mouth shut, forget everything you think you saw today, and don’t be stupid.” Cupping my cheek, she dug her nails into my skin. “Because if you don’t. If you do something foolish like talk to someone. If you try to ruin this for us...someone will hunt you down and take your life.”

My mouth fell open at her threat.

How the hell had this day turned out like this?

“See ya ‘round.” She patted my cheek so hard it was almost a slap before weaving seductively through the crowd to join the selected others.

Marcus Ward kept reading names, but I locked eyes with the Asian girl next to me. “What the hell is going on in this place?”

“Guess you’ll never know.” She grinned. “And it’s probably for the best. He would eat you alive if you stepped one foot in there.”

“He?” I moved closer, thanks to someone jostling me. “Who’s he?”

I didn’t think she’d answer, but with an aura of smugness, she murmured, “Lucien Ashfall.”

That name.

It sounded almost familiar...

“What’s the selection of thirty women got to do with him?”

“Evelyn Ling,” Marcus Ward called out.

“Oh.” She flicked her glossy hair. “Surprise, surprise. That’s me.” Wriggling her fingers, she blew me a kiss. “Bye-bye, unchosen one.”

Without another word, she pushed past the pouting women slowly realising their chances of being picked were running out.

“Kia Brass.”

A short skinny girl squealed and joined the group.

I turned to go.

I’d been warned and threatened and...unlike others who had a body that didn’t blackout when stressed, I had no intention, nor the capacity, to fight this war.

Whatever was happening here. Whoever Lucien Ashfall was. I wanted nothing to do with it.

Hoisting up my backpack and glowering at the gravel rash on my palm, I arrowed toward the awaiting buses.

At least this time the sprinkler system didn’t activate, and I could leave with the seventy other women who’d been given the grace of escape.

But then, he called my name.

Chapter Four

“DIDN’T YOU HEAR MR. WARD CALLING you?” Two men appeared, cutting me off from my beeline to the bus.

My heart hammered. My headache grew worse. I used every trick in the book to keep my stress levels from crippling me.

Darting around them, I coughed. “I’m suddenly not feeling well. Someone else can have my spot—”

“Rook Snowden.” Marcus Ward’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Congratulations! You’re our lucky last.”

The two men grinned, each taking one of my arms. “The moment you’re settled into your private pavilion, the sooner you’ll feel better.” Guiding me kindly—even though we all knew it was straight-up coercion—they herded me to the left and deposited me with the group of chosen women.

Evelyn and Lydia glowered at me before shooting daggers at each other with whatever secrets they shared.

A wash of cold sweat coated my back.

Whatever was in this blasted estate might be bad, but these girls were probably worse.

I didn’t want to be here, yet they acted as if I’d come to steal their thunder. And if they were happy to threaten my life in plain view, then...what the hell would happen once we were inside?

“It’s come to the unhappy part of the day where I have to bid you farewell, ladies.” Marcus slouched dramatically as he grinned at the unchosen. “Ember Health thanks you all for your time and we hope you enjoy your evening at the Waldorf. Your gift bags will be delivered to your rooms once you’ve checked in.”

A few women raised their hands to ask questions, but Marcus pretended he didn’t notice. “Thank you again and have a pleasant afternoon.” Turning off the microphone, he placed it on the trestle table, snapped his fingers at the men, and marched toward the gatehouse.

With the quietest groan of iron-fortified wood, the double doors opened, swinging wide and offering a glimpse of yet another immaculate gravel driveway meandering around cone-shaped trees leading toward a speck in the distance. The barely-visible estate wobbled like a mirage in the late afternoon sunshine.

“Please follow us.” Four men surrounded the group of thirty women, while the other staff helped guide the reluctant losers back to the buses.

In the shuffle of feet and frustrated whispers, I spied my opportunity.

Ducking into the mass moving toward freedom, I kept my head down and—

“Miss Snowden.” The man who’d taken my factsheet form stepped in front of me. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“Oh, I...” I floundered, my headache pounding, pounding. “I...eh, I lost something.” I narrowed my eyes on the grass, hoping my acting skills had improved since the last time I’d tried to lie. “I might have left it on the bus—”

He crossed his arms, his tone patient but his eyes shrewd. “If you tell me what you’ve lost, I can call the coach company and see if they’ve found anything.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” My vision went a little grey at the edges.

Don’t you dare.

Don’t you freaking dare.

Swallowing hard, I shoved back the stress and tried to inch around him. “Thanks, though.”

He chuckled as I rejoined the herd marching toward the splashing peacock fountain. He let me think I might stand a chance as my flip-flops crunched on the gravel driveway and the glint of sunlight off the bus windscreens sent my heart racing with hope.

But then, he cut in front of me again.

His overly white teeth flashed as he grinned. “You’re still going in the wrong direction. Please...allow me to guide you into Cinderkeep.” He reached for my elbow.

I scrambled back so fast, I almost fell over.

My eyes skimmed a few of the women all climbing sadly into the buses. What would I give to trade with them? Did that make me a horrible person that I would put their life in danger just so I could get out of here?

Probably did. But I’d already come to terms with who I was.

I was a self-confessed slacker. I had a gold star in doing the bare minimum, a diploma in laziness, and a lifetime achievement award in procrastination.

And all of those skills doomed me to hell as the man nudged me toward the gatehouse, not touching me, but giving clear signals that he’d happily toss me over his shoulder if I tried to run again.

I racked my throbbing brain for a solution.

If only I went to the gym and was good at cardio. If only I’d trained to fight and had a wicked right hook. If only I’d stayed in that smoky, gloomy pub and hadn’t been greedy.

Sighing heavily, I shuffled to join the eager women who’d already passed through the double doors of the gatehouse and were boarding a different kind of vehicle. A line-up of matte black, window-tinted Mercedes-Benz G-Wagons were the chariots of choice, swallowing up four women at a time before pulling away with the purr of obscene wealth.

Each of those could buy a small house, yet whoever owned this estate had twelve of them.

Evelyn and Lydia pursed their lips as I noticed them heading toward a boxy-looking wagon with two other girls. Lydia whispered something to Evelyn. Evelyn laughed. And just as Lydia climbed into the front seat, she dragged her finger along her throat and pointed at me.

One of the men placed his hand on my lower back, pushing me forward.

My headache threatened to turn into a migraine as I closed my eyes and fought the urge to blackout. I hadn’t been this stressed in years. I existed to avoid all manner of panic. I didn’t even watch angsty TV shows or read books that weren’t just fluff because the chemistry of my body had been irreparably ruined thanks to that day.

They were lucky I didn’t vomit all over the pricey interior of the G-wagon they stuffed me into or burst their eardrums with a shrill scream as they slammed the door, pulled away, and drove me and three other women toward the palace shimmering in the sun.

* * * * *

“This is where we leave you,” Marcus said in his smarmy, suave voice.

We’d all been transplanted from one gatehouse to another. Unlike the other one with its ancient stone wall wriggling over the countryside like a giant snake—blocking the estate from nosy eyes—this one looked like a prison.

Not stamped with time or weathered by storms, the rock was scrubbed clean of any moss or debris while the top glittered with broken glass. Above the jagged shark-teeth glass shards, a single metal wire glinted like a garotte.

The falsehoods of a spa weekend were rapidly disintegrating under the truth.

Whatever this place was, whoever was imprisoned inside—it wasn’t a paradise of hot springs and massage rooms.

Finally, the other women started waking up. Some fidgeted. Some nudged each other. But most of them laughed and smirked as if they knew more than the rest of us.

“Once you’ve entered Cinderkeep, it’s up to you to choose where you’d like to stay. There are multiple pavilions dotted around the grounds and food will be delivered regularly. You’re welcome to use any of the facilities and we encourage you to enjoy yourselves.”

Clasping his hands in front of his suit, he smiled. “Each of you is uniquely qualified to enter and I wish you all good luck. Now...if you’re ready.” Sidestepping, he waved regally. “Please, go ahead.”

Another set of double doors swept open, these ones quiet and well-oiled. But thick. And fashioned from iron. With multiple locks to keep us in.

“Eh...but what about the spa treatments?” a tall woman asked quietly. “Isn’t there a schedule? Some sort of menu of what’s on offer?”

“You’ll find all of that in your pavilion.” Marcus grinned, his eyes flat and cold.

“I think I’ve changed my mind,” another dark-skinned, pretty woman said. “I’d like to go back to London, please.”

“Unfortunately, all transportation has ceased for the day,” Marcus said softly. “But rest assured, come Sunday evening, we’ll have you back there in a jiffy.”

A few women glanced at each other, fear blazing in their eyes.

And yet...those showing worry were so few. Maybe only five or six. The rest of the women balled their hands as if going to war, braced their spines, and marched with full purpose through the doors without a backward glance.

What the hell is going on?

The stragglers, including me, shared mirroring concern before looking over our shoulders for escape, only to be pushed through the door.

We all winced as it clanged shut and the twang of locks slammed home.

* * * * *

This place was too lavish to be real.

Tucked tight with the group of women as clueless as me, we inched our way into the grounds, our jaws on the floor at such decadence. Which was saying something as my family home wasn’t some two-bedroom apartment in a decrepit high-rise. I’d been born into a sprawling mansion with servants and nannies and not one swimming pool but three.

Yet this place?

In the distance, the palace rose before us, looming and imposing and impossibly grand. Black stone towered above, veined with golden traceries. Window arches gleamed with gold leaf and the roof was a mismatch of curves and slopes and turrets—its slate tiles glittering with flecks of mica.

As we followed the main pathway, flanked by hedges and rose bushes, our heads swivelled left and right, drinking in the dozens of extra buildings all spilling out from the main hall.

Fields existed between each pavilion, granting privacy and distance.

Exotic in their design, the entire area, as far as the eye could see, was littered with intricate stone bridges crowning babbling crystal streams, all cutting through the emerald grass like arteries flowing from a pumping heart.

Koi carp swam in the rivers, stone walls and circular archways beckoned into private gardens, while open-air, roofed corridors linked each pavilion, decorated with lattice panels and woven with every flower imaginable.

Floral perfume permeated the air like a drug, making it feel as if we’d stumbled into ancient China where threads of wisteria clung to pillars and gazebos rested on the edges of a sprawling lake filled with snow-white swans.

Every corner whispered of wealth so extreme, it warped reality.

“I...I don’t know what’s going on,” the woman closest to me whispered, almost in tears. Her long red hair was tied in a thick ponytail, her black dress far fancier than my scruffy jean shorts.

“Me neither,” another woman muttered. “It feels like we’ve been shoved into a monster’s cage and any moment now we’re going to get eaten.”

That was exactly what it felt like.

“Let’s join the others,” the redhead whispered. “Safety in numbers and all of that.”

We picked up our pace and attached ourselves to the crowd of women who’d already arrived at the white marble courtyard outside the sprawling black stone palace.

The entrance borrowed East and West architecture, blending the double doorway with English oak trees and snarling oriental dragons.

Evelyn marched up the six sweeping steps and boldly rapped her fist against the huge doors.

We all held our breath.

Time ticked on, cranking our heart rates.

My headache grew worse and soon, I wouldn’t have a choice but to rest. My body would force me to sleep by helpfully knocking me unconscious.

I stepped back a little, ready to flee to a nearby pavilion, but the doors finally cracked open, gliding apart as if manipulated by ghost butlers.

“Hello?” Evelyn called into the dark interior. All I could see from my place at the back was a chandelier dripping from the ceiling, sending rainbows all over the girls in the front. “Mr. Ashfall?”

“Mr. Ashfall?” the redhead next to me asked. “Who’s that?”

“Hush up.” One of the girls who seemed to know why we were here spun to face us. Pressing a finger against her lips, she scowled.

And that was when the screaming started.

Chapter Five

EVERYONE SCATTERED.

My knees threatened to buckle as anxiety washed over me. I bolted back the way we’d come. I didn’t know why we were running or why women were screaming but I didn’t plan on finding out.

I managed to make it to the edge of the marble courtyard before someone yelled, “Stop running, you idiots! Didn’t you read the dossier on him? It’s his pet!”

“Carly’s right,” someone else said. “It was given to him when he was a teenager—mainly to stop him from going batshit crazy. It’s not going to hurt us. Look, it’s just sitting there.”

A few brave girls stopped and turned but not me.

I kept running, streaking into the rose garden and ducking behind a cheery pink-flowered bush. Peering through the glossy dark leaves, I tried to make sense of the commotion.

Women continued to flee but the ones who obviously had an agenda of coming here slowly stopped and forced themselves back.

“Take us to your master,” Evelyn commanded, her eyes pinned on the entrance of the palace.

“Do you honestly think it speaks English?” One of the others scowled. “It’s in the way. We should just move it.”

“Sure, okay. Move it.” Evelyn chuckled. “After you then.”

The other girl didn’t reply, and I couldn’t make out what they spoke about. The cluster of women suddenly broke down the middle, everyone cringing away as something huge and black and sleek stalked down the centre.

My eyes widened as the velveteen predator prowled straight through the women like it owned the place, its tail flicking, its glowing yellow eyes bright as twin moons even in the afternoon sunlight.

My heart chose that moment to cease.

Stress crushed me from all angles and my vision blanked.

I was having another nervous breakdown.

That was the only explanation.

My mind had snapped and conjured a fantasy that couldn’t be real.

It can’t be real.

Hiding behind my rose bush, I did my best to get a grip.

I begged reality to return—

But then the softest puff of breath hit the back of my neck.

The quietest growl sent my skin prickling with panic.

Hurling myself around, I fell onto my ass as I faced a creature that belonged in a jungle, not a country manor. It didn’t make any sense. I couldn’t compute how a panther was sniffing my hair, my throat, and not tearing out my spine with its sharp teeth.

“Stop playing around and take us to Lucien,” Evelyn snapped, appearing by the rose bush and eyeballing the panther.

It was a panther, wasn’t it?

Or was it some genetically modified giant house cat?

Because animal sequencing and gene manipulation weren’t impossible. I’d seen such scientific feats first-hand in Snowflake’s labs...

Evelyn stuck her nose in the air. “Where is he? Tell him to come out and welcome us.” Her bravery was utterly awe-inspiring if not completely suicidal.

Who was this woman?

What the hell did she know about this place that made it seem as if she’d crossed enemy lines for battle while the rest of us were cannon fodder?

The panther quit sniffing me and hissed at Evelyn. Its tail flicked harder; a low whine echoed in its chest, just like an angry tabby cat.

“Eh...” Leaping to my feet, I backed up, casually putting Evelyn between me and the beast. “Perhaps yelling at it isn’t the best idea.”

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at my obvious and understandable fear. “If it was going to hurt us, it would’ve done so by now. Like the others said, it’s just a pet.”

“A pet?” My eyebrows shot up. “I’ve never seen a pet like that.”

Other women came to join us, forming a small crowd in front of the panther. The giant cat eyed us all, yet I swear its stare lingered on me more than on any of them.

Lucky me.

Had we been brought here to be a movable feast for this creature? Just convenient snacks and I’d been selected as its first course?

Sighing heavily, my headache reached unbearable levels.

When I got this bad, no painkiller or medicine helped.

The only thing that would recalibrate my out-of-whack system was sleep. A long blissful forgetful sleep where—

“Take us to Lucien.” Evelyn stomped her foot, making a few of the women snicker. “Now!”

“Having a tantrum won’t work.” One of the girls—a heavy-set, short-haired woman came forward, her arms thicker than my thighs, no doubt from regular weightlifting. “And I doubt its master likes spoiled little princesses.”

“Oh, and I suppose you think Lucien will like you?” Evelyn spun on her. “Someone who looks like she eats twenty raw eggs for breakfast.”

The woman cracked her knuckles, stepping into Evelyn. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“Easy, easy.” Lydia, the girl with golden-brown hair, stepped between the two. “Let’s not fight so soon into this mission, shall we?”

Mission?

What mission?

The bodybuilder clenched her jaw but nodded. “Fine.” Pointing at all of us, she added, “But stay the hell out of my way. I know a bunch of you have come here to seduce that bastard and have his bastard children, but me? I’m going to rip out his throat and ruin any chance he has of unleashing the apocalypse.”

Okay, WHAT?

My eyes ached. My ears rang. I was very close to throwing up from the pain. But I clung to sanity and asked, “Can someone please tell me what the hell is this place?”

“No!” Evelyn snapped. Hurling her wrath at the panther, she shouted, “Take us to Lucien. Immediately!”

Incredibly, the cat grumbled and growled but slinked around us and headed back toward the main palace.

Everyone followed, as if entranced by its jewel-black pelt and hypnotising tail.

But as everyone vanished into the black stone castle, I turned around and bolted.