Page 24 of Rule the Night (Blackwell Butchers #1)

MAEVE

I woke up to pale blue light leaking in from a crack in the curtains I’d closed before crashing into bed the night before. The house was quiet as a mausoleum, the bed huge and a little firm, just the way I liked it.

I stretched with a sigh before sinking back into the mattress.

I wasn’t a design aficionado, but the loft was nice.

Definitely a little sterile, but sterile like a house featured in Architectural Digest, not like a hospital ward.

There were no knickknacks, no mementos, but the sheets were crisp and smooth, the towels I’d used after my shower thick, heated on an electric warmer disguised as a towel rack.

I had one text from Bailey, acknowledging the pin I’d dropped for her with my location, and one from my dad.

Made the apricot galette tonight. Come by for a piece?

My dad’s apricot galette was heaven on a plate: light, buttery pastry filled with juicy peaches.

I hesitated. I didn’t know what my new life was going to look like.

Busy at work this week. Save me a piece in the freezer?

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen. I wasn’t surprised my dad was awake. He was always up early preparing desserts for the restaurant where he worked.

Not the same.

I’m sorry. I’ll come soon! Ily.

Love you too, kid.

I stretched out and looked around the room. I missed Bailey already. Missed our comfortable routine of shuffling, bleary-eyed, into the kitchen in the morning, sitting on the couch with coffee and sharing memes and gossip from our phones.

Somehow I didn’t think I’d be engaging in lighthearted chat with my three new roommates.

I had a flash of Poe, leaning against the brick wall on the balcony. Heat rushed between my thighs as I remembered the way his sapphire eyes had seemed to see right through me, the subtle smirk on his full lips.

I slipped my hand under the sheet, more than happy to put off emerging from my room with a little self-pleasure, then froze when something near the ceiling caught my eye.

A tiny red light blinked in the corner.

A camera.

I sat up fast. Were they fucking kidding me?

I stomped to the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. Then I took off my pajamas and threw on jeans and a T-shirt from the clothes I’d unpacked the night before.

I slipped my phone in my pocket and hesitated over Rose, still on the nightstand where I’d left her the night before. Would the Butchers search me in the house? See the gun and demand I hand it over?

Let them try.

I picked up the shoulder holster from the dresser where I’d left it the night before and strapped it on, then tucked the gun inside.

I immediately felt better. A hoodie did the job of covering it for now.

It wasn’t a long-term solution since I probably couldn’t wear a sweatshirt 24/7 for the next three months, but that was a problem for another time.

The hall was just as quiet as my room, and I wondered if the men were gone or still sleeping. I didn’t know the rules. Would they leave me alone? Or was someone going to watch me to make sure I didn’t escape?

What about my parents? They’d send out a search party if they didn’t hear from me for three months, especially after what had happened to June.

And what about my job at Lushberry? I had a shift the next day and I’d been so determined to win the Hunt that I hadn’t even thought to have someone cover me.

Ugh. What a mess.

I made my way down the hall to the spiral staircase and descended to the second floor.

I passed the gym and the library, but there were no signs of life, so I continued into the main living area, which was also empty.

Early morning sunlight streamed in through the big windows, casting a glow over the rugs on the concrete floors.

It was hard to imagine the Butchers lounging on the sectional, watching a movie or playing video games on the giant TV.

They seemed almost otherworldly, like gods who’d landed here from another dimension.

My stomach grumbled and I considered going to the kitchen for something to eat, but a second later I realized the door to the balcony was open.

I walked toward it, hesitating on the threshold, then stepped outside.

It took me a few seconds to notice Poe, sitting not in one of the chairs but on a cushion on the ground, his feet crossed in a meditative pose.

It took me a few seconds longer to realize he was ass-naked.

I’d thought he was beautiful fully clothed, but naked? He was something to behold.

His dick was hidden between his folded legs, but there was something about the smooth expanse of his tan skin, unbroken by clothing, that set my heart pounding.

He looked like a different person from the one who’d emerged with me from the tunnels and definitely a different person than the one who’d loomed over me during the Hunt.

I took in the sculpted peaks of his chest, the ink that covered his arms and bled onto his pecs and back.

In the bright sunlight, I realized the tattoos were different than any I’d seen before, a montage of black and red shapes intertwined with lightning bolts and blocky images of bears, giant birds, and skulls like the one the Butchers had worn in the tunnels.

His skin glowed in the light of the sun, his expression serene in profile.

Shit.

I backed away, feeling like I’d stumbled on something I wasn’t supposed to see.

“Stay,” he said without opening his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

He opened his eyes. “Grab a cushion. Come sit.”

“Um… that’s okay.”

“I can put clothes on if it makes you more comfortable.”

“It’s fine.” I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I was rattled by the sight of a naked man. I was twenty-one. I’d seen a naked man before.

I moved carefully onto the balcony, like I was moving closer to a coiled snake, but instead of grabbing a cushion, I sat in one of the chairs. “Are you meditating?”

“Every morning,” he said.

A meditating beast who hunted women in the tunnels under Blackwell Falls?

Another thing that wasn’t on my bingo card.

I tried to ignore the fact that he was naked. “You must be disciplined.”

I didn’t know much about meditating, but the word made me think of health food and yoga poses.

“Hardly,” he said. “Just desperate.”

“Desperate for what?”

He seemed to think about the question. “Silence? Peace?”

I was starting to sweat under my hoodie. I told myself it was the heat of the sun and not the proximity to Poe’s naked body, but I stood anyway, eager to put some distance between us. “I’m sorry. You’re trying to meditate and now we’re talking.”

“You don’t have to sit on a cushion,” he said. “Sit in the chair. Stand if you want.”

“To meditate?”

He shrugged. “It’s a state of mind.”

“I’ll pass,” I said.

He got to his feet, surprisingly graceful for such a huge guy. I forced myself not to look at his dick but it wasn’t as easy as I wanted it to be.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants.

I remembered the camera in my room and felt a welcome surge of anger.

Anything was better than having a friendly conversation with one of the men — a man who happened to be gorgeous, inked, and naked — who killed people and took female slaves for fun.

“Yeah, but only because I didn’t realize until morning that there’s a camera in my room. ”

He didn’t bat an eye. “You’re in our house.”

“You’re forcing me to be here.”

He lifted an eyebrow, and I hated to admit it, but he looked sexy as all get out leaning against the railing of the balcony, the sun shining on his chest, which looked more suited to an underwear model than some random guy from Southside. “Are we?”

I shifted on my feet. “Are you saying I can leave if I want to?”

His blue eyes threatened to drown me. “Do you want to?”

“Yes.” He was turning my questions back on me, leading me down a path I didn’t want to travel to a conclusion I didn’t want to reach. Because when I got right down to it, I’d come because I’d agreed to come when I’d entered the Hunt. “But I’m not a quitter and I don’t renege on a deal.”

“So you’re staying willingly then.”

“I guess.” I hated admitting it was true. “But I didn’t agree to cameras in my bedroom.”

“Our house, our rules.” He looked me over, his gaze brazen, like I was his to admire. “Aren’t you hot in that sweatshirt?”

The loft faced east, the sun rising over the trees in the preserve. Sweat had started to drip between my tits and under my arms. “No.”

He smirked. “You’ve got your gun under there, don’t you?”

I lifted my chin. “What if I do? Are you going to take it again?”

“We’ll let you keep it. For now.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Our house, our rules.”

“I have questions.”

He nodded and headed for the house, the pull of his body magnetic as he passed within a couple inches of me. “We can talk over breakfast.”

“Is that something I should be doing now?” He’d mentioned that I was there to cook for them — among other things (there are a lot of things I want you to do) — but I had no idea what the Butchers liked, what they wanted me to cook or when.

“Take the day to get settled,” he said, stepping across the threshold into the loft. “We’ll put you to work soon enough.”