Kick The Candle (Knight Games) by Jack Genevieve

Author:Jack, Genevieve [Jack, Genevieve]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Carpe Luna Publishing
Published: 2013-09-08T19:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Rude Awakening

Ch-ch-ch-chatter-chat-chat

Something was clanking together. Oh, my teeth. Maybe that’s why my jaw ached. I tried to slide it back and forth and it cracked painfully. I pressed my lips together. What the hell was going on? I was shivering too. And one side of my head hurt like a bitch. Actually, my whole body ached, and my wrists were stuck. I fluttered my eyes open. What the fuck?

I was not at home, and I was not at Valentine’s. The room was dark, but I could make out stone walls supported by thick wooden beams. There were implements on racks mounted to the walls: canes, whips, clamps, and sharp objects that glinted ominously in the light of the single candle that burned on a small table at the center of the room. Either I was in someone’s red room of pain, or this was an actual dungeon.

I took a moment to survey myself. The reason my teeth were chattering was I’d been stripped down to the white silk and lace slip I’d been wearing under my dress. Even my shoes were gone, my feet numb from the icy cold stone under them. The ache in my back and wrists was due to the latter being bound above my head to the ceiling. When I tried to tilt my head back to get a better look, I groaned.

“She wakes.” The ginger from the bar appeared in front of me, his gold-toothed smile glinting wickedly. An evil leprechaun. Who knew? And to think, I’d felt guilty for stealing his barstool.

“Thank you, Naill,” a woman’s voice, deep but sensual, crooned to my left.” She stepped into my peripheral vision. The way my head hung, I saw her tall-booted leg first, peeking out from the slit in her dress, followed by a long waist. “At last we meet Hecate, or should I call you Grateful?” Red lips pulled back from pearly white fangs.

“Hecate is fine,” I said through the pain in my jaw. “I can think of some things I’d like to call you.”

“Anna. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.” She stepped closer, as if she were inspecting my face.

I looked up into her oversized green eyes and searched my memory for the name Anna. My conversation with Gary popped into my head. “Bathory?”

“The one and only.” She pushed her bouncy brown curls off her shoulder and turned to pace away from me. Bathory definitely had the Jessica Rabbit thing going on below the neck. Her black dress clung like a second skin, a leather corset boosting her major assets shamelessly.

“What do you want?” I managed.

“I want the book,” she snapped. “Tell me where it is, and I will let this incarnation of you live.” She closed in. The scent of blood wafted over me. Whether it was my blood or the stench of her breath, I wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know where it is.” At least this I could be honest about. If she had any powers of observation at all, she’d have to believe me.

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