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22

VEIL

“ R ead to me.”

I glance up to find Gemini staring at me with a sly smile on his lips. His lean body is stretched out on his red leather couch, just a few seats away from me, the afternoon sun dancing over his face as his hands cradle the back of his head. His hair is yellow today, and he appears to have some kind of aversion to shirts, always bare-chested, especially when it’s just us two at home.

Just us two at home.

That sounds much too domestic when, in reality, it’s anything but. It’s been nearly three weeks since I’ve been kidnapped, but somehow, it feels like a lifetime.

I’m struck by the softness in his gaze as he waits for me to answer. His black eye has faded, but is still visible, a pale yellow now coloring the thin skin.

It’s been a few days since I witnessed him ruthlessly murder a man. It was shocking, appalling even, but … somehow, it left me with a deep sense of relief. I’d always known Gemini was capable of such abhorrent things, and finally seeing it with my own eyes somehow satisfied my confusing sense of curiosity.

Seeing the monster behind the jester shifted something inside of me, and most confoundingly, it has left me less guarded around him. I can sense some kind of change brewing within me, but I can’t quite place what . And sometimes, I wonder if Gemini knows what that change is before I’ve discovered it for myself.

I crave to know more about my god and, most importantly, my family history. Discovering I’m the sole survivor of the Vulturine line feels monumental. Unfortunately, Gemini has been quite tight-lipped on the subject, claiming he knows nothing more than what he already offered me.

I don’t believe him.

Then there’s the sensitive matter of what happened during my circus audition. Gemini hasn’t mentioned it since. And I certainly won’t either. But sharing a bed with him every night is becoming unbearable, and I’m ashamed to admit that I’m disappointed every time he ignores me to simply fall asleep, naked, beside me.

It’s as if, to him, I am far from being a temptation.

And if not a temptation, then what am I to him?

Blinking back to reality, I push my troubled thoughts aside and clear my throat. “From the book I’m reading?” I ask.

He grins and nods. “I just want to listen to the sound of your voice.”

My heart squeezes in response to his statement. I feel split in half; the first is touched by his words, and the second is outraged by my reaction. I look down at the book on my lap, hoping my eyes don’t reveal my warring emotions.

The silence lingers between us before I find where I left off and begin to read out loud.

Gemini’s grin widens, and he sighs as he closes his eyes, settling deeper into the cushions.

I have time to read two chapters before Gemini’s phone pings beside him on the coffee table. With his eyes still closed, he gropes blindly at the table before landing on his phone, picking it up. When he finally takes a peek with one eye, he swears under his breath, jumping to his feet, now on full alert. His head swivels to the door, then to me, then back to the door, looking frazzled.

“What is it?” I ask slowly, my voice laced with suspicion.

“It’s Mercy. She’s on her way up to the house.”

My heart sinks at the name. Mercy Crèvecoeur, coruler of Pravitia. Even if I hadn’t seen her bloodlust firsthand at the Feast of Fools, her reputation precedes her.

“Get up, get up,” Gemini says quickly. He doesn’t wait for me to move, pulling me up and pushing me into the hallway. “You must hide. She can’t see you. Not yet.”

“Hide?” I say, bewildered, over my shoulder. “But she doesn’t even know who I am.”

“I can’t risk it.” He opens a closet door and tries to shove me into it.

“You cannot be serious!”

A faint knock is heard coming from the front door, and Gemini whips his head around, as if Mercy will somehow apparate in front of us, then turns his attention back to me.

“Be a good doll for me, pet,” he whispers, coaxing me into the closet.

Infuriatingly, I relent. Meeting Mercy is something I’ll gladly avoid for now.

“Don’t make a sound, and I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

I know it’s an empty promise, but I still grit out, “You owe me.”

He flashes me an arrogant smile and closes the door, effectively locking me inside the hallway closet.

I can’t tell how long I’ve been left here to rot, but it’s long enough for me to have made a complete inventory of the closet out of pure boredom. Even with my ear to the door, I can’t hear their conversation, so I rifled through his things instead. I’ve found countless fur coats, hats of all shapes and sizes, and an alarming number of costumes.

I’m seething when Gemini finally opens the door. Storming out, I clip his shoulder with mine before stomping into the living room.

Gemini, of course, finds the entire thing amusing.

Turning to face him, I cross my arms and glare. “You’re insufferable, you know?”

He approaches me on light feet, now sporting wide-legged pants and a yellow knit tank top. He must have changed before answering the door.

“Trust me, Veil Vulturine”—he quirks a smile, eyes bright and shining—“I’m an acquired taste.”

I stiffen when he gets close, my arms still crossed over my chest. His hands smooth up my arms, but I don’t move. Don’t react.

“Says who?”

“Says everyone,” he rasps, and his lowered voice sends a shiver down my spine.

His eyes are trained down, watching his hands slowly move up my arms.

“Like all your conquests?” I freeze, shocked to hear a bite of jealousy in my tone. I immediately regret my question and don’t particularly want to know the answer either.

His quiet chuckle tickles my skin as he lifts his head just enough to regard me from under his eyelashes. “Don’t fret, my beloved; you’re the only conquest I crave.”

My breath hitches at the new pet name, and it sends liquid heat pulsing through my core. I immediately chastise myself for being so easily manipulated.

“How long was I in there?” I say, changing the subject.

His smile widens, his fingers now curling around my arms and squeezing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost looked sheepish. “A little over two hours.”

I huff out an exasperated breath and step away from him. Turning on my heel, I take a few steps and then turn back to face him, lifting my arms in the air as a show of protest. “When will you stop treating me like your prisoner?”

Gemini’s smile fades, and he turns unusually serious. Which only makes his answer that much more foreboding. “When you start acting like the rightful heir of the Vulturine family.”

I drop my arms, the silence pulsing like a heartbeat between us. When I speak, my tone drips with dismay. “I wouldn’t even know how to, Gemini.”

We stare at each other for what feels like lifetimes, but it’s closer to mere seconds until Gemini winds back to life.

“Come,” he declares theatrically, followed by two quick claps of his hands. “Let’s discuss this further by the pool. I feel like a swim.”

Dumbstruck, I mutter, “You have a pool?”

“Yes, it’s in the atrium,” Gemini says over his shoulder as he walks away.

“You have an atrium?”