offered blood, trying not to think too deeply about
what it was she was ingesting. The memories became images with no
emotion attached—like a long-forgotten recollection of a movie. And
then the pain and guilt were just… gone.
“I need you to
eat a real meal. No more picking over your food. You’ve made your
decision now; extra suffering won’t serve any purpose.”
She followed him
into kitchen and sat at the bar while he took some food from the
fridge. She hadn’t thought much about it before. The food she’d
been served in the cellar hadn’t been bad, but it was the kind of
thing that was hard to notice while in such a frightening situation.
The feeling of dread had edged out any possible enjoyment from food.
She’d never
wondered where her meals came from, but it was clear from his, large
and well-used kitchen that he’d made them. He’d cooked for all of
them every day. Nicole wasn’t sure if it was creepy or kind. She
watched as he arranged leftover steak and some vegetables on a plate
and popped them into the microwave. While it was heating, he poured
her a glass of water.
Nicole sat quietly
for a couple of minutes trying to pick her words. She didn’t want
to risk angering him and was afraid he’d go back on his word now
that he had her, but she had to know.
“A-August?”
He placed the
plate of food in front of her. “Yes?”
“When can I go
back home?”
The muscle in his
jaw twitched, and she held her breath, her eyes pleading with him to
not change his mind now. He could. No matter how sincere he’d been
when he’d begged her for this, now that he had her, he could
withhold Dominic. He could punish her for reducing him to begging
tears, for dragging this out so long, for not following his plan to
the letter.
The reality of the
power he held to take more and more from her was only now sinking in.
She couldn’t even kill herself to escape him. She could only run
and run and run. Run until she ran out of earth and fell off the
edge. Because surely if you ran that much, gravity would give up the
ghost and there would be nowhere left on the earth to go, and then
you would just fall. Forever.
August was
oblivious to the path her thoughts had turned down. After a moment,
the tension in his jaw released, and he sighed. “In the morning.
I’ll go with you and take the thrall off your husband. We’ll need
to do damage control with the flower shop and your friends. How often
do you speak with your family?”
“My parents live
in town, but we don’t speak often. Still, they might know I’m
missing.”
“And your
husband’s family?”
“There’s only
his dad left, but they don’t speak and haven’t in years.”
He nodded. “We’ll
deal with everyone on a case-by-case basis.”
“You mean you’ll
use mind control.” She didn’t like the idea of him being inside
the heads of those she loved and cared about.
“Would you
prefer they suffer thinking something happened to you?”
She shook her
head. “You know I wouldn’t.”
“Okay, then. Eat
your dinner. I want you to start taking care of yourself. Put some
weight back on, and get back out in the sun. You’re far too pale
and thin.” He trailed off abruptly and she wondered if that
sentence was about to end with “for my tastes.”
When she’d
finished eating he led her through the huge entry hall and up a grand
staircase. She followed him to a closed door and waited—feeling
awkward and afraid of what he might expect next—while he produced a
key from his pocket to unlock the door.
“This is your
room.”
Nicole couldn’t
focus on the room for all the extra stuff that was in it. Bags filled
with designer label clothes, boxes of shoes, cases of fine wines,
most of them Cabernet Sauvignon—her favorite. Boxes of fine
chocolates, plush bath robes, an uncountable number of velvet jewelry
boxes, as well as bubble baths and lotions and expensive cosmetics
and fragrances. There were several tall stacks of first
what it was she was ingesting. The memories became images with no
emotion attached—like a long-forgotten recollection of a movie. And
then the pain and guilt were just… gone.
“I need you to
eat a real meal. No more picking over your food. You’ve made your
decision now; extra suffering won’t serve any purpose.”
She followed him
into kitchen and sat at the bar while he took some food from the
fridge. She hadn’t thought much about it before. The food she’d
been served in the cellar hadn’t been bad, but it was the kind of
thing that was hard to notice while in such a frightening situation.
The feeling of dread had edged out any possible enjoyment from food.
She’d never
wondered where her meals came from, but it was clear from his, large
and well-used kitchen that he’d made them. He’d cooked for all of
them every day. Nicole wasn’t sure if it was creepy or kind. She
watched as he arranged leftover steak and some vegetables on a plate
and popped them into the microwave. While it was heating, he poured
her a glass of water.
Nicole sat quietly
for a couple of minutes trying to pick her words. She didn’t want
to risk angering him and was afraid he’d go back on his word now
that he had her, but she had to know.
“A-August?”
He placed the
plate of food in front of her. “Yes?”
“When can I go
back home?”
The muscle in his
jaw twitched, and she held her breath, her eyes pleading with him to
not change his mind now. He could. No matter how sincere he’d been
when he’d begged her for this, now that he had her, he could
withhold Dominic. He could punish her for reducing him to begging
tears, for dragging this out so long, for not following his plan to
the letter.
The reality of the
power he held to take more and more from her was only now sinking in.
She couldn’t even kill herself to escape him. She could only run
and run and run. Run until she ran out of earth and fell off the
edge. Because surely if you ran that much, gravity would give up the
ghost and there would be nowhere left on the earth to go, and then
you would just fall. Forever.
August was
oblivious to the path her thoughts had turned down. After a moment,
the tension in his jaw released, and he sighed. “In the morning.
I’ll go with you and take the thrall off your husband. We’ll need
to do damage control with the flower shop and your friends. How often
do you speak with your family?”
“My parents live
in town, but we don’t speak often. Still, they might know I’m
missing.”
“And your
husband’s family?”
“There’s only
his dad left, but they don’t speak and haven’t in years.”
He nodded. “We’ll
deal with everyone on a case-by-case basis.”
“You mean you’ll
use mind control.” She didn’t like the idea of him being inside
the heads of those she loved and cared about.
“Would you
prefer they suffer thinking something happened to you?”
She shook her
head. “You know I wouldn’t.”
“Okay, then. Eat
your dinner. I want you to start taking care of yourself. Put some
weight back on, and get back out in the sun. You’re far too pale
and thin.” He trailed off abruptly and she wondered if that
sentence was about to end with “for my tastes.”
When she’d
finished eating he led her through the huge entry hall and up a grand
staircase. She followed him to a closed door and waited—feeling
awkward and afraid of what he might expect next—while he produced a
key from his pocket to unlock the door.
“This is your
room.”
Nicole couldn’t
focus on the room for all the extra stuff that was in it. Bags filled
with designer label clothes, boxes of shoes, cases of fine wines,
most of them Cabernet Sauvignon—her favorite. Boxes of fine
chocolates, plush bath robes, an uncountable number of velvet jewelry
boxes, as well as bubble baths and lotions and expensive cosmetics
and fragrances. There were several tall stacks of first
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