The Dancer and the Masks by Bea Paige

Chapter 27

CHRISTY

Lying face down on Thirteen’s bed naked bar the chastity belt, I stare off into the distance, listening to the rain as it lashes against the window. Fat droplets roll down the windowpane and somewhere in the distance thunder rumbles as Konrad inspects the cuts on my back now that I’m clean from the shower.

“I need to stitch up this cut Leon made,” Konrad says, brushing my damp hair off my face. “It’s deeper than the others. Those will heal up on their own.”

Thirteen slams something down on the worktop behind us. Since finding out what happened she’s made it perfectly clear with her actions that she’s unhappy with the events of this evening. It surprises me, given she did nothing to prevent Leon from whipping Twelve’s back bloody and raw. So why are a few cuts on my back any different? The truth is, they’re not.

“Leon held back, Thirteen…” Konrad says, his voice trailing off when she snorts with contempt. Leaning over me, he brushes his knuckles across my bare arm. “It could’ve been a lot worse.”

I’m not sure what he wants me to say. Thank you? Not going to happen.

“Just sew me up, please.”

From the moment he unlocked my wrists and ankles, Konrad has been nothing but attentive, affectionate, caring. He carried me up to Thirteen’s room and stayed by my side, giving me sips of water, feeding me small bites of the ham sandwich Nala brought up half an hour ago. He’s shown me nothing but care, a stark contrast to what I’ve experienced since arriving here.

But it’s all a lie.

It isn’t a selfless act. He doesn’t truly care about me, about what they’ve all put me through. This is about him getting off. I’m as certain of that as I am of Leon’s need to inflict pain through violence. The pair are twisted bastards and Jakub is no better, seeing as he gave me over to them. He broke his promise.

Behind us Thirteen brews a concoction to soothe my cuts and encourage healing. She’s furious with him, with Leon, that much is obvious, but she’s also angry at herself.

She feels responsible for what’s happened to me.

She isn’t.

The Masks are.

Iam.

The need to survive is a funny thing. Since I’ve been here I’ve gone through a gamut of emotions. I’ve oscillated between fear, anger, and lust until I’ve felt sick with it. But one thing has remained constant: my need to go home.

Just because they’ve made me come, have given me pleasure in situations I’d never dreamed would be pleasurable, doesn’t mean I want to stay. Just because they’ve all kissed me like I really am theirs, that I belong to them, doesn’t mean I do. Just because my visions have been telling me for years that The Masks are my future, doesn’t mean I want them to be.

I might be theirs but I’m aware that there is a time limit on that ownership.

That at some point in the near future, they’re going to kill me.

I’ve seen it in their eyes. It’s an inevitability.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t had any more visions. I can’t see into the future if I don’t have one.

“Thank you, Thirteen,” Konrad says after dropping the wet cloth back in the bowl sitting on the side table and taking the tray from her which holds a needle and surgical thread.

She breathes out a huff of air and sits on the bed beside me, holding my hand. Her gaze is filled with apology, regret. I don’t bother to try and reassure her that I’m okay because I’m not. Nothing about what happened today was okay. Nothing.

Konrad and Leon think that because I came, because I chose to take some pleasure from the situation, that I’m beginning to accept my place here. They couldn’t be more wrong.

I’m going to destroy them.

Not Grim, not Beast, but me.

Me.

Because something else happened in that cell today that made me realise the power I hold.

Leon might’ve cut me, he might’ve made me bleed, but he didn’t come out of the experience unscathed. He called me Christy.

I got to him.

And if I can get to him, then I can get to Jakub and Konrad too.

“I’m going to sew you up now,” Konrad says, echoing Leon’s words when he was about to cut me. I nod my head, keeping my gaze fixed on the rainclouds, grey and stormy, just like my heart. “Thirteen, you can leave us.”

She looks at me with concern lingering in her eyes. If I asked her to stay, she would stay and I have a feeling not even Konrad could make her leave.

“It’s okay, go.”

“I won’t hurt her,” Konrad says, sounding sincere. She must believe him, because she nods, squeezes my hand then leaves me alone with a monster.

“She cares about you,” Konrad remarks the moment the door clicks shut. “You seem to have an uncanny ability to make people do that. What is it about you, Zero?”

“Thirteen cares about all the Numbers,” I say, forcing myself not to register the pain as his fingers rest against my back.

“She does. She’s a good person. Fuck knows why she came back here…”

Konrad’s voice trails off, distracted by the task at hand. I feel the sharp sting of the needle passing through my skin, but I allow my eyes to drift shut, and do what I couldn’t do in the dungeon, and compartmentalise the pain.

“Came back here?” I ask softly.

“Our families have history, let's just leave it at that.”

“They’re okay with her being here?”

Konrad laughs. “I doubt they even know where she is.”

I don’t press for further information, sensing Konrad clamming up. Instead, I lay still as he sews me up. With each stitch his breathing seems to get heavier and the tension in the air thickens. I’m facing the opposite way from him but there’s no doubt that he’s getting turned on.

It’s bizarre. Twisted.

“There, all fixed,” he says eventually, his voice tight with lust.

When I hear the sound of his zipper undoing, I can’t help but shift position and turn my head to face him. He locks eyes with me as he pulls his dick free from his trousers, fisting it at the base.

He doesn’t say another word, and I can barely even gather my own thoughts as his gaze flicks to my back and he starts to slowly move his fist up and down his cock. Konrad’s mouth parts as he licks his lips and reaches with his free hand to run his fingers over my scarred back, circling the cut he’s just stitched up. It’s all I can do not to bolt off the bed.

“Fuck, Zero. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life,” he admits, rubbing his thumb over the slit of his dick. “I want to fix you so bad. I want to hurt you and fix you, then hurt you and fix you all over again.”

I watch him as he jerks off. He’s big, just like Leon and Jakub, but where they have been circumcised, he still has foreskin. For a moment I allow my gaze to linger on his dick, fascinated by the way his foreskin stretches and gathers as he moves his hand.

It’s sexy, there’s no denying that. A man who looks like him, is as virile and as masculine as he is, fisting his cock and getting off because of me, is a turn on. It’s another new experience, but I’m well aware that it’s just one more mindfuck. It’s one thing to let these men take my pleasure when I have no other choice, but another thing altogether if I allow myself to give it up without force. I can’t allow myself to cross that boundary again if I’m to remain strong enough to fight them.

“Why do you want to hurt me, then fix me?” I ask, gritting my teeth as I push up onto my elbows.

“I don’t know. I just do,” he replies, his hand pumping faster. “I want to spank you raw, I want to whip you until red welts rise across your creamy skin. I want to cut you like Leon did. I want to take my cock and rip through your virginity. I want to bury myself balls deep in your virgin cunt and dirty up my cock with your blood,” he says, panting now as his breaths become more uneven and his eyelids droop. “Then I want to soothe you, lick your pussy better, treat your wounds, and take care of you. I want to heal you.”

His free hand rests on my lower back as his fist pumps up and down, drawing out his pleasure. I can’t comprehend why hurting me then healing me turns him on so much, but it does. Watching him become unhinged, with his cock in his hand and his eyes hooded makes me feel a little more in control.

He’s vulnerable right now.

He’s giving up his desires, his secrets, and is jacking off without even trying to take anything further from me. It’s not what I expected. Not at all.

Testing the boundaries of his restraint, of my hold over him, I push up onto my knees and turn my back to Konrad, pulling my hair over my shoulder. Looking back at him, I lick my lips and smile softly, playing him at his own game. “I want you to come,” I whisper.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Konrad grinds out through clenched teeth as his hips jerk. “Turn around, Zero. Turn the fuck around. I don’t want to come over your wounds.”

Shifting on the bed, and ignoring the way my pulse rises and my heart pounds, I turn to face him just as he tips his head back and orgasms, covering my chest with his thready, white cum. I watch him as his cock jerks with the aftermath and his chest heaves, feeling a knot in my chest unravel a little, feeling as though I’ve clawed back some control.

Leon and Konrad might’ve strapped me to that cross, cut me, debased me, forced me to come, but here in this room I’ve claimed a little self-respect back. It doesn’t matter that I’m covered in his cum. What matters is the information he’s given up, the insight into his psyche.

Tucking his cock back into his trousers, Konrad turns on his heel and heads into the bathroom, coming back out a few moments later with a damp cloth. Avoiding my gaze he silently cleans me up. He’s gentle, solemn, and thoughtful.

It’s strange.

“I need to put some ointment on your wounds and the blisters on your feet,” he says, evenly. His mask firmly back in place.

“Okay,” I murmur, lying back down whilst internally smiling at this small victory.

Konrad takes his time applying the ointment Thirteen prepared, talking to me in a soothing voice that does little to calm my determination to ruin him.

All three of them.

Those are my last thoughts as I fall into a deep, restless sleep.

* * *

Grim paces up and down, her hand waving in the air as she shouts into the phone. “I don’t give a FUCK, Arden Dálaigh! We’re going with you. She’s my sister.”

Beast steps in front of her, shaking his head. “Let them do this. Think of Iris, Grim. She needs you here.”

“Give me a moment, will you? I’ll call you back,” Grim says, punching the end-call button. She glares at Beast. Her eyes are bloodshot, ringed with dark circles. “This is non-negotiable. We’re going with them. No one fucking kidnaps my sister and gets away with it. I’m going to put a motherfucking bullet in each of them. I need to make sure they’re dead.”

“And Iris?”

“Pen and the Breakers have already agreed to look after her. I refuse to leave my sister another day longer with those men. Not one more day. You hear me? It’s been a month, Beast. A month! I’ve let her down.”

“You don’t even know if what Arden has found out is true. She could already be dead,” Beast says gently, reaching for her. Kate whacks his hand away.

“That girl is a survivor. She’s not dead.”

“They will ask for another debt. You already owe them one. Let me handle this. I’ll take a team. I’ll go get her back.”

“You don't know the exact location of The Masks’ castle. We’ve looked everywhere. This is the only lead we have, and I refuse to let it go. Besides, Arden won’t give up the location just like that, not when they can extract another debt from me. We have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Beast says, gripping her shoulders. “We can get Christy back. Us, not them.”

Grim locks eyes with Beast, and for a fraction of a second, hesitates. “No! We need the Deana-Dhe. You know it, and I know it. This may be our only opportunity to get into the castle unnoticed.”

“Grim, you’re not thinking straight. This is an ‘invite only’ Ball. They’ll see us coming a mile away,” he adds gently, tipping her chin up so he can look into her eyes.

“This is a masquerade ball. We can hide in plain sight.”

“Think about this carefully,” Beast insists. “Think about Iris. If anything goes wrong, she’ll be an orphan. Is that what you want?”

“Christy needs me. I won’t leave her to rot in there. I won’t. If anything bad happens, our baby girl has a ready-made family to take care of her. I don’t leave anyone behind, especially not family. So you’re either with me or not. No matter what, I’m doing this.”

Beast grits his jaw, swiping a hand over his face. “You’re right. Fuck, I’m sorry. Goddamn those fucking pricks. I’ll take their masks and shove them so far up their arses they’ll be choking on them!”

“That’s the spirit!” Grim replies, a little laughter breaking through the anger.

“Well, if we’re doing this, we could use some back-up. It’s about time you told Ford about his sister, don’t you think? If Pen and the Breakers are looking after our princess, then perhaps Asia will be willing to loan us her delinquents? Those fuckers know how to fight.”

Grim nods her head. “I’ll call him later today, but first Arden…”

Locking eyes with Beast, Grim presses redial on her phone, only she doesn’t get a chance to speak because Beast snatches it from her and says, “Arden, we’re coming with you to the Ball. Oh, and you make this my debt, not Grim’s, got it?”

“Beast? What the fuck?!” Kate shouts the moment he’s clicked off from the call.

“There was no way in hell I’d let you owe those twisted fucks another debt. This one’s mine. We’ll get Christy back together. Got it?”

“Got it,” Kate nods, then accepting Beast’s hug murmurs, “Hold on Christy, we’re coming.”

* * *

“Kate!”I shout, sitting bolt upright in bed. My skin is covered in sweat, my heart pounding loudly in my chest as I blink back the vision and try to reorient myself in the room. It’s dark outside. A full moon sits like a pendant in the night sky flooding our room with silvery moonlight. Konrad is long gone and Thirteen stirs, reaching for me, her cool fingers wrapping around my arm.

Nightmare?her expression seems to say.

“A bad dream,” I lie, getting out of bed and padding over to the window. “Just a bad dream.”

Pressing my forehead against the cool glass I blink back the tears, remembering how Kate had looked, going over in my mind what the vision had shown me.

“It’s been a month,” she’d said, which means this vision takes place almost two weeks in the future. Two weeks where anything could happen...“She could already be dead.”

“Oh God,” I mutter, closing my eyes against the tears, and trying not to focus on the fact that Beast could be right and I might only have days left to live, hours even.

Behind me I hear Thirteen moving about. She clicks on the gas burner, striking a match. The familiar sounds of her brewing some tea does nothing to help soothe my racing thoughts.

“It’s about time you told Ford about his sister, don’t you think?”

Ford? I have a brother? Kate has kept him from me… Why?

Pressing my palm against the windowpane, I swallow hard. What other secrets has she been keeping from me? “Damn it, Kate!” I whisper.

Thirteen presses her fingers against my shoulder, making me jump, the after effects of my vision making me feel even more on edge than I already am. She hands me a mug of chamomile tea and I take it from her automatically. I feel like a robot. My body is moving as it should be but everything else feels disconnected.

Drink, she urges, pressing her fingertips against my hand holding the mug.

I take a sip, drinking but not tasting.

Tipping her head to the side, Thirteen’s eyes scan my face. She’s worried about me, I can see that plain as day, but I don’t feel like having a conversation with her. Not right now. Not whilst I have all these thoughts in my head and pain in my heart.

Turning my attention back to the view before me, I allow my thoughts to roam. Who is Arden Dálaigh, and the Deana-Dhe? Why is Beast so worried about them helping Kate to find me? And what debt are they talking about?

“Arden, we’re coming with you to the Ball.”

The Ball. Fuck!

Kate and Beast are coming to the Ball. That’s their way in, but I know The Masks, this is their domain, they’ll kill them both the second they step foot in the castle.

“I need to get out of here!” I say, frustrated tears prickling my eyes, but even as I say the words I know it’s useless to try and run without a plan.

I need a way out. I need help.

I could wait for my sister and Beast to turn up and hope we’d all survive, or I could take matters into my own hands. I saw the fear on Beast’s face, he’s not a man who scares easily, so whatever is going on with these mysterious Deana-Dhe, it can’t be good. Beast said that he didn’t want Kate to owe them another debt, so he’s taken it on himself. He doesn’t have to do that, but he’s going to, for Kate, for me. They’re putting themselves in danger and I can’t let either of them owe anyone a debt. Kate can’t leave Iris. I have to get out of here.

I have to.

But the vision was in the future which means I haven’t managed to escape… or I’m dead… or I’m on my way back to her and she doesn’t know it yet. I’m hoping for the latter, because the other two options are inconceivable to me.

“You know I won’t stay here, don’t you?” I say, my breath fogging up the windowpane.

Thirteen sighs, and even though I don’t turn to face her, I know she’s nodding her head.

“My sister is looking for me. Her name is Grim and she’s a very dangerous woman. She won’t rest until she finds me, and when she does, Thirteen, she’ll kill The Masks, maybe even die trying. I have to leave before that happens. She’s a mother. I have a niece. I can’t be responsible for making her an orphan. I won’t.”

Thirteen grips my arm, forcing me to face her. No, she protests, shaking her head.

“She will kill them,” I insist. “You care about The Masks. I don’t know why, but you do, and if you care about them, then you’ll help me to escape. It’s the only way, Thirteen. Will you help me?” I ask, trying to make her see reason. God only knows that The Masks deserve Kate’s wrath, mine, but I have to try and stop Kate and Beast from coming here. I have to. It’s too dangerous.

For a long time Thirteen just stares at me, her grey eyes silver in the moonlight as she tries to decide what to do. Eventually, after what feels like forever, she picks up her pencil and pad and writes; I’m so sorry. I can’t help you. Not with this.

“Then The Masks will die, and you’ll be lost.”

Thirteen presses her lips into a hard line, scribbling frantically. I won’t be the one lost without them.

“The Numbers will learn to live in the real world again. They’ll have normal, healthy relationships where they’re not hired out like prostitutes and reduced to no more than a number,” I say through angry, gritted teeth.

Thirteen huffs out a breath, then writes something else, showing it to me. I’m not talking about the Numbers. I’m talking about you. She stabs the pencil against the word ‘you’, emphasising her point.

“Me?” I laugh, I can’t help myself. I laugh until tears cascade from my eyes and drip from my jaw bitterly.

Yes, you!She nods, pressing her finger into my chest. Fury in her gaze, but also heartache, heartbreak.

“You’re wrong. I’ll be free,” I snap, swiping at my eyes, but even as I say those words, mean them, somewhere deep down inside, my gut is telling me that she’s right.

And that, that’s the most fucked-up thing of all.