Page 8 of Enchantra (Wicked Games #2)

7

THE PROPOSAL

Genevieve spun to find Rowin leaning against the molding of the hallway’s opening, watching her with an inscrutable expression.

“Have you talked to the others?” Barrington prompted.

Rowin nodded. “They’re not pleased with me, but that’s nothing new. You and I should probably discuss a few more things before Knox’s arrival.”

Barrington nodded. He turned to gently take Genevieve by her elbow. “Come, girl, let’s get you to the drawing room. I think you need to sit down.”

“What I need is to stop being yanked around by strangers,” Genevieve said as she ripped herself from his grip and dug in her heels. She speared Rowin with a glare. “What do you mean by win or be killed ?”

“Do those words have alternate meanings I don’t know about?” Rowin taunted. “You either win the Hunt or you’re killed in it. So I hope your penchant for verbal sparring translates to some sort of physical capability as well.”

Genevieve turned back to Barrington. “But you said that they’ve been playing this game for years. If everyone except the winner is killed?—”

She cut herself off as the realization hit her. Immortals. They’re all immortals.

“When we are killed in the Hunt, Knox’s magic burns our souls from our corporeal forms and then rips our bodies out of this linear plane to transport both parts of us back to Hell,” Rowin explained.

That sounded…ghastly. It was also frighteningly powerful magic—that much was clear even to Genevieve. Souls were delicate, and if Knox’s magic could transport one from this plane to the Other Side in an instant, he was a powerful Devil indeed.

“Then we get to live out the remainder of the year under Knox’s command,” Rowin said, his voice dripping with bitterness.

“The winner, on the other hand, gets to stay here until the Hunt begins anew,” Barrington finished. “But a mortal…a mortal’s body cannot survive being separated from its soul without dire consequences, Miss Grimm.”

“And I’m mortal,” Genevieve whispered.

“You catch on quick,” Rowin snorted.

She spun to bare her teeth at him. “You’re an ass .”

He smirked. “Are words the only claws you’ve got?”

“Come closer and let’s see,” she crooned.

Rowin made to step forward, but Barrington raised a hand between them and barked, “ Enough .” He narrowed his eyes at Rowin. “Go wait in the study. I’ll be there in just a moment.”

Genevieve watched with mild shock as Rowin began to transform into a shapeless tangle of shadows and smoke. One moment his figure was there, and the next it had melted into the darkness of the hallway and disappeared altogether.

“I cannot stand the thought of our cursed game harming one of Tessie’s daughters,” Barrington told her, his tone a bit firmer than before. “There is a way to keep you safe. It just requires some careful?—”

A resounding crash echoed through the house.

Barrington sighed deeply. “Please excuse me. My children are clearly determined to drive me even madder than usual today. Make yourself comfortable in the drawing room down the hall.”

And with that, Barrington Silver disappeared, leaving only a plume of purple smoke.

Genevieve had decided that finding the drawing room and waiting to see whatever solution Barrington arrived at would be a lot less exhausting than risking—what was it Rowin said? Being fried by the front gates?

The room was surprisingly warm, the mismatched antique furniture and fresh flowers in crystal vases making it feel both intimate and inviting. There was a set of chairs just across from the small couch, a mahogany coffee table between them, and an inset cupboard, made of the same reddish wood, spanning the entire wall at the back of the room. The shelving above the cupboard was filled with different bottles of liquor and glassware. In front of that, there was a long, marble bar lined with velvet-topped stools.

“Well, well, look who’s joined us,” an amused voice declared.

Genevieve stiffened as she scanned the room for the owner of the voice.

A smile curled up on Sevin’s lips as her gaze locked with his, and he shifted the sucker in his mouth to the side, creating a bulge in his left cheek. Genevieve regarded him with skepticism as he pushed off the far wall and strutted closer.

“You pulled quite the stealthy disappearing act earlier. Are you the quiet type, then?” he questioned, a mischievous gleam in his crimson gaze as he pulled the sucker from his mouth to point it at her. “Or do you like to scream?”

Genevieve crossed her arms. “I think perhaps my new goal in life will be making sure you never know that answer.”

He clucked his tongue in disappointment. “How do you feel about daggers?”

She narrowed her eyes. “In what way? Craftsmanship? Effectiveness? How I think one would look in your side?”

His grin stretched wider. “Just wondering how prepared you are to take a stabbing or two.”

A bark of laughter rang out from the doorway as Ellin strode into the room.

“And what could she possibly do to prepare for that, Sevin?” Ellin flicked her gaze to Genevieve. “My advice is to simply not get stabbed. And if you do—don’t bleed out.”

As if that was something Genevieve could control.

“You’ll have to excuse Ellin,” Sevin apologized. “She doesn’t have much experience with how fragile mortals are. Or how easy it is to drain them of blood.”

Genevieve stiffened. She’d forgotten that the Silver children were Wraiths. Is the blood and soul eating true, then?

Before she could ask, however, Ellin tossed herself into a chair and complained, “Why would I spend enough time with mortals to know that? They’re incredibly dull.”

“I don’t think dull is going to be this one’s problem,” Sevin commented with a grin as he slid his gaze back to Genevieve. “Is it?”

Genevieve didn’t deign to respond as she sidestepped the coffee table and turned toward the exit. She was beginning to feel like a cornered hare in their presence. And the topic of her being stabbed or bleeding had come up one too many times. Barrington said he knew a way to spare her from whatever little game was being played in this cursed house, and Genevieve hoped to Hell he was telling the truth.

“Even if she is a bore,” Ellin reasoned, “Rowin’s plan is going to make things interesting. Maybe she’ll even give you some competition in the voting for Favored.”

Before Genevieve could snap at either of them, Rowin suddenly appeared in the room amongst his swirling shadows. Followed moments later by his father.

“Out,” Barrington barked at Ellin and Sevin.

Ellin made a show of how inconvenient it was for her to be getting kicked out, while Sevin winked at Genevieve.

“Good luck,” Sevin told his brother as he exited. “You look darling together.”

Ellin snorted while Genevieve narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Genevieve?” Barrington suggested as he waved a hand at the couch in the center of the sitting area.

She lifted her chin. “No, thank you.”

Rowin rolled his eyes at her refusal.

“I know this is all overwhelming,” Barrington told her. “But I’m afraid it may only get more distressing from here.”

“More distressing than being told I may be forced into a game where my only option to escape is being killed ?” she asked dryly.

“Yes,” Barrington claimed.

It was at this moment that she really saw Barrington’s age. His face might have been youthful, but his eyes held the weight of several lifetimes’ experience as a parent. Meanwhile, Rowin was watching without an ounce of emotion on his face. As if he were made of stone.

“We don’t have much time before Knox arrives and we lose the chance to speak freely,” Barrington told her. “Now, there have never been any contestants other than my children in the Hunt. Others have tried to enter. But the Hunt was designed specifically for those with the name Silver .”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rowin move. Shoving his hands in the pocket of his trousers as his gold eyes flashed with…anticipation?

“Tessie would never forgive me if I let you go into this game without assistance.” Barrington’s voice had grown thicker with each word he spoke, and if there was ever a time for her to speak up about her mother’s death, it was clearly now. Except the next words out of his mouth stopped the confession balancing on the tip of her tongue cold. “It has been decided that you will enter the Hunt as Rowington’s wife.”

For a moment the entire world stopped. Genevieve knew she’d heard him wrong—that the word wife had not just left his mouth.

The Hunt was designed specifically for those with the name Silver .

A wild laugh bubbled out of her.

“It’s the only way two winners are allowed,” Barrington continued. “A loophole Knox offered one of my other sons long ago, when his spectators had grown bored with the usual events of the Hunt. Any of my children can take up the same loophole should they desire.”

She swung her gaze to Rowin. “You’re going to just stand there and let your father ask me to take your hand in marriage?”

“Are you suggesting you’d like me to ask? And on my knees?” Rowin drawled. “That is what mortals do, correct?”

The idea of him getting on his knees for her heated her blood in a way that was even more baffling than the conversation they were having, but somehow she managed to keep her tone even as she snapped, “It’s one knee, and obviously that is not what I’m suggesting. I’m suggesting you tell him that this is a ludicrous fucking idea!”

“Unfortunately, that I cannot do,” Rowin stated evenly, his gaze locking with hers. “Because it was my idea.”

She nearly choked.

“A marriage is the only way you will survive the Hunt, Genevieve,” Barrington agreed.

“While I appreciate your lack of confidence in my ability to take care of myself,” Genevieve told them, every word dripping with indignation, “I was hoping you would be finding a way for me to get out of this ordeal entirely. If the proposal is having to play your wretched game and get married , I think I’d rather play alone. Believe it or not, this wouldn’t be my first deadly contest. Have you heard of Phantasma? I entered the Devil’s Manor last year and, as you can see, I survived just fine.”

She had seven golden stars marked into her skin to prove it.

Barrington shook his head. “Playing by yourself is not an option. Knox would kill you instead. And it’s the very least I owe Tessie—to make sure you have a fighting chance.”

She curled a lip at him in distaste.

“It’s not a risk I’ll take,” Barrington maintained. “Not to mention it’d be equally beneficial to Rowington. A true win-win.”

She propped a hand on her hip as she faced Rowin and taunted, “Ah, so I’m a benefit ? And you made it sound as if you were doing me a favor.”

“You’re potentially a benefit,” he corrected. “If you somehow learn how to listen in the next twenty-four hours.”

“Well, I’m all ears right now,” she pointed out. “Why don’t you explain to me how I’m so beneficial to you?”

“Knox’s loophole states that if one of us gets married and convinces their spouse”—his eyes darkened at that word—“to join the Hunt, they can play together for one season, and there’s a special reward if they win. The couple is permanently released from the Hunt. There’s a catch, of course. If a couple loses that first game, then the new family member is locked into the Hunt with the rest of us. Forever. At least if they’re immortal.”

“Which we have established that I am not,” she reminded.

Rowin’s mouth pressed into a grim line as she caught Barrington’s wince.

“You’re both being serious,” she realized as she flicked her eyes between the two of them. “You both really think I’m going to agree to get married to a stranger?”

“I’m sure you could do worse,” Rowin told her.

She would never admit aloud how right he was. Instead, she declared, “Even if I lowered my standards to the depths of Hell, I doubt you’d be able to reach them.”

Rowin opened his mouth, probably to give her a biting retort, but Barrington was quicker.

“Might I remind you that Knox could arrive at any point. If the two of you don’t learn how to be amicable and quick , Genevieve isn’t going to survive the night,” Barrington admonished. “No, not just amicable, you need to be partners . Fooling Knox and his spectators is going to take extreme measures from you both—no fighting in public, no insulting each other, as many public displays of affection as you can manage.”

“You’ve truly lost your minds ,” Genevieve scoffed.

“And you will lose your life if you do not cooperate,” Barrington snapped.

Genevieve curled her lip in disdain. “Do not talk to me like that, Mr. Silver. You are not my father.”

Out of the corner of her eye she swore she saw Rowin smile.

“I’m sorry.” Barrington sighed deeply, combing a hand back through his hair. “I just don’t know how to convey to you the danger you’re in. Knox will kill you if he finds you here. Unless he finds that you are part of the family. Even if you agree to play with Rowington, the two of you will need to show every sign of being in love.”

“So I don’t just have to go along with your asinine plan. I have to look like I’m enjoying it?”

“Knox will be watching you closely. And all of his spectators, too, as soon as the game begins. The mirrors are enchanted so that viewers in Hell can spy into the house. That’s why looking glasses are in all of the common spaces. And why my children have an irritating habit of covering them up.”

“Can’t I marry one of the others instead?” she suggested.

“No,” Rowin stated. “This was my idea. Therefore, you’re mine. If anyone is winning freedom from the Hunt, it’s me.”

Genevieve was instantly flustered. Whether from fury or the fact that no man had ever called her his before, she wasn’t sure.

Either way, she made sure to swear, “I will never be yours.”

Rowin pulled something from his pocket. “This ring might claim otherwise soon enough.”

“A ring,” Genevieve said as she glanced down at the silver band he now presented.

There was a long moment of silence.

And then Genevieve ran.