Nightbird: Book 3 of the Gilded Cage trilogy Read online

  "Come with me now," I told her, and she took my hand willingly, letting me lead her into the bedroom.

  She lay on the bed, her eyes far away as I held her close, tucking the duvet in around her. "He isn't a kind man," she said, and I stroked her cheek.

  "Your papa?" I wanted to know.

  She didn't answer, swallowing the sob that accompanied the tears in her eyes. "He hurt Vlada," she said. "And me. And my brothers. He hurt all of us, and he knew exactly where to hit to hurt us most."

  "I can imagine," I muttered, comparing her experience with my own.

  Michael hadn't been much of a father, but his cruel compassion still filled me with the need to please him, to be the best one out of his three sons. I was endlessly competitive, starving for somebody's attention. Of course, Michael knew what would hurt most was denying me the pleasure of human contact. It was the reason I'd fallen for Ophelia in the first place, even though it was never supposed to happen.

  I was still paying the price for it.

  "What happened in the forest?" I finally asked, and Ophelia hid her face in the crook of my arm.

  "I killed a man," she whispered. "The doctor. My father demanded I k-killed Dr. Ivanov if I wanted to see him again. I took his mask off." She let out a bitter laugh. "He wasn't living," she said. "He hadn't been, not for a long time. Papa had turned him into a monster. Cut out his tongue, gauged his eye out. He was covered in scars. Scars everywhere. I realized then it would be a mercy killing. He was begging me with his eyes. To save him. To help him."

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The cruelty of the man whom she still so fondly called Papa, as if he'd ever been a father to her. I was going to fucking kill him when I got my hands on him.

  "Why didn't you tell me about all this?" I asked Ophelia. "Why didn't you trust me enough to explain about what was going on?"

  "I couldn't," she said, turning her eyes to mine. "Don't you see?"

  "See what?" I argued. "You were keeping a secret, dolly. We don't do that."

  "I didn't do it to disobey you," she admitted. "I did it because I was afraid."

  "Of your punishment?" I asked, and she shook her head impatiently. "Of what, then?"

  "Of Papa," she whispered, raising her eyes to me. They were filled with fear, and she seemed shaken to the core as she opened her lips to speak again.

  "Of what he would do to you when he found out I loved you."

  Her words sent a chill down my spine.

  Chapter 11

  Ophelia

  He had warned me so many times, yet I still did not listen.

  Kain's men came back with empty hands and nothing to show for their hours' worth of searching in the woods.

  They found the hatch, and the clearing, but that was about it. There was no sign of a body in the forest, nor of any blood - or anything else suspicious. Once again, I was starting to wonder if there was something going on with my head. If I really was seeing things, imagining those notes papa seemed to leave everywhere.

  Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe it was all inside my head. Maybe I would wake up from the nightmare I'd found myself in and finally see the truth.

  But deep down, I knew this was exactly the kind of game my father loved to play.

  He was testing me, making sure I was ready for the next ordeal he was going to put me through. And I was falling for it all, desperate to see him again and even more desperate to find out whether he had my little sister with him.

  The only solution was to beat him at his own game. Outplay him. And I was ready to do whatever the hell it took to get Vlada back.

  That day, Kain had to leave to do some business in the city. I was determined to go with him, but he told me I'd be bored, and promised to leave four men at home so I'd feel safer. He said he'd be back that evening unless something went south, and he had to spend the night. The whole thing made me sulk all day long, and so the afternoon came around with me sitting in the house all day, worrying about what he was doing.

  "Maybe you should get some fresh air?" one of the guards, Matthew, asked me. "It might do you a world of good to go outside a bit. Enjoy the sun while we still have some."

  "Fine," I muttered, getting up from my window seat that overlooked the driveway. "I guess that's not a bad idea."

  He gave me an encouraging smile, trailing a few steps behind me as I went outside.

  Once again, I found myself following the wall, my hand touching the rough stones as I moved deeper and deeper into the property. I still knew where the hatch was. All I had to do was distract Matthew, and maybe then I could find out if there was anything in the forest for myself.

  "Matthew?"

  He turned to face me and I smiled my most innocent smile.

  "I'm thirsty. Would you mind getting me some lemonade?"

  "Of course," he nodded. "With ice?"

  "Please," I purred.

  He disappeared back toward the house and I grinned to myself. I'd already gotten rid of one obstacle.

  Rushing along the wall, my well-practiced fingers found the spot in the wall they'd been looking for, and I let myself through the wall.

  On the other side, everything seemed different. The birds sang louder, the grass was higher, and I felt freer than ever.

  I hoped I could still find the clearing Dr. Ivanov had brought me to. I just needed to retrace our steps from last time.

  I started walking deeper and deeper into the forest, doing my best to remember how we'd gotten there. But I'd gotten lost there once before, and my confidence was wrecked. When I came upon the gnarled oak tree, my spirits soared. It meant I was close. With newfound determination, I continued deeper into the forest.

  It was getting darker outside, the sun setting slowly in the horizon. I'd need to head back soon or risk getting completely lost in the woods. The last thing I wanted was for Kain to come home and not find me. There'd be hell to pay if that happened again... So I needed to be careful.

  Suddenly, the clearing appeared in front of me, and I gasped at the sight of it.

  It was just as I remembered it, except the grass was now trampled beneath my feet from where Kain's men had been.

  I twirled in the clearing, where there wasn't a single trace left of the murder I'd committed. I was half-expecting the ghost of the plague doctor to appear and send me running back to my home, but no. There was nothing, except for the slightest breeze ruffling my lilac dress. I was all by myself.

  Until the next moment, where I wasn't.

  There was nowhere around me. I was alone, but there was a definite presence in the forest, like somebody was watching me.

  I bit my bottom lip nervously, worried that the same thing was happening yet again. I was seeing things, imagining someone in the forest with me. Was this whole thing really a figment of my imagination?

  I looked around, panic taking over my heart and mind, but I still couldn't see a thing. Now, the sun had almost completely set against the horizon, and the shadows of the old trees were getting longer and longer, their dark talons reaching out for me as if they wanted to keep me in the woods forever.

  I turned around to head back toward the house when a strong arm wrapped around mine. I gasped. I knew that rough touch.

  "Princess Ophelia," a heavily accented voice whispered in my ear. "Running from me yet again, are you?"

  I couldn't even breathe, choking on the words in my throat and unable to say a thing.

  The pressure around my arm loosened and I closed my eyes tightly, trying to convince myself this wasn't happening. It was my imagination. It wasn't real. None of this was real.

  "I know what you're doing, Ophelia," he hissed at me. "I know you better than anybody else. After all..."

  His fingers touched my chin, just like Kain's did sometimes, tipping it back. My brows furrowed and I shut my eyes even tighter.

  "I am your father," he whispered in my ear, and my eyes flew open.

  I needed to see if it was true, if he'd truly survived, if he was really the
re, ready to turn my life around yet again.

  And there he stood, illuminated by the sunset behind his back which threw long shadows along the grass. He was tall, broad, angry. He looked just like I remembered him, except his salt-and-pepper hair had gone completely gray.

  "Still remember me?" he asked me, in Russian this time. "Remember your papa?"

  Conflicting feelings mingled in the pit of my stomach.

  Was I supposed to be happy to see him?

  I'd managed to close my eyes from a lot of things when I was younger.

  His cruelty, his kindness, how he always expected something in return for his actions, even if it involved me, his own daughter. He was already doing all the things he used to, already trying to make me feel inferior.

  “Papa?” I whispered, and my eyes flew open again.

  I stared at him. It seemed impossible that he'd survived, and once again, I had to remind myself I wasn’t going crazy.

  He’d tricked me somehow. Tricked all of us. But now he was back with a vengeance.

  “Yes, Ophelia,” he said, taking a step back from me. “It’s not a dream.”

  More like a nightmare, I thought to myself, nervously twisting my hands in my lap.

  “Where is Vlada?” I asked him right away, trying to keep down the screams that were threatening to rip through my body.

  “Oh, silly princess,” my father laughed heartily. “I can’t tell you everything yet, can I? Then this game wouldn’t be any fun.”

  “This isn’t a game, papa,” I insisted. “I need to know if she’s okay, and if you have her. We’ve been trying to find her. I just...”

  A fat tear rolled from the corner of my eye.

  “I just need to know if she’s okay,” I whispered.

  “Well, you seem mighty concerned about your sister,” my father said. “Given that you've fucking shacked up with your family’s killer. Suka.”

  I twitched when he said it. He didn’t call me names when we were younger. It was more often that he slapped me than called me something like that. I thought he saw me like a little girl, incapable of doing much more than what he told me to. Obviously, his opinion of me had changed.

  “Tell me what happened to her,” I said, feeling adrenaline pumping through my veins. “Or I’ll tell Kain to kill you.”

  He stared at me for a second before chuckling, shaking his head.

  “You won’t do anything like that,” he said calmly. “Instead, you’re going to be a good little girl and go back home without telling anyone what you saw today or what happened. For now, I don’t want that fucked up guy of yours knowing I’m still alive and well.”

  “Papa,” I whispered. “Dr. Ivanov... How could you do that to him?”

  “Do what?” he asked sweetly, gently caressing my cheek with his strong hand. “You’re the one who killed him, princess.”

  I shivered at the sound of those words, but he was right.

  I’d been the one to end Dr. Ivanov’s life. My father had tortured him... treated him like a beast, but I was the one who ended it all. I had only myself to blame for my actions.

  Once again, I felt myself slipping into the submissive role of Vladimir Sokolov’s daughter. The role I had played for the first eighteen years of my life was so easy to come back to, and I found myself following the old patterns like I had never left.

  "What do you w-want me to do?” I stuttered nervously. “I have to tell Kain. His guards are probably looking for me now.”

  Papa looked in the direction of the house.

  “I have someone there,” he said with a soft smile. “Someone working for me. Don't you worry your pretty little head, princess, you’re going to be just fine.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. “But I need to tell him about you. That you're okay.”

  “Why?” he asked, his voice an octave higher. “You don’t have to do anything, Ophelia. Not unless I tell you to. Or have you forgotten where your loyalties lie?”

  His words hurt.

  I knew what Kain had done from the start, yet it hadn’t stopped me. I’d succumbed to him, fallen for him. I’d let him have all of me when I should’ve tried to run the first time he got his hands on me.

  “Now, princess,” papa said, touching my shoulders like I was still just a little girl. “You’re going to listen carefully, and you're going to do as I say. Understood?”

  Helplessly, I found myself nodding, hating myself for following back into the trap he’d set for me.

  “You’re going to scurry back home,” papa went on. “And you’re going to keep your mouth shut. You won’t tell a single person what happened here today. And when I call for you next, you’ll be available for me. For anything I want. Do you understand?”

  “I don’t-” I started, but my words were cut off when papa spun me around and hit me with his hand.

  The slap was so hard and unexpected I stumbled backward. I looked up with tears in my eyes, once again reminded of the man my father could be when he really wanted to hurt me.

  I touched my stinging cheek and glared at him, more tears rolling down my face. But I already knew I was going to do what he told me to.

  “You’re going to be a good girl,” he went on sternly. “Because if you're not, I’m going to find that boy you love so much.”

  He knelt next to me, his fingers gently touching my skin.

  “You do love him, don’t you, Ophelia?” he asked.

  I nodded, swallowing back a sob.

  “I thought so,” he replied. “Such a fucking traitor.”

  A silence followed. I didn't dare speak as papa got up, wiping his hands on a silk handkerchief, as if he’d soiled them by touching me.

  “Go back home,” he told me again. “And don’t speak of this to anyone if you want your little boyfriend to live.”

  I’d never ran faster.

  Chapter 12

  Kain

  When I came back home, Ophelia was waiting for me on a pillow by the door. Her head was hung submissively, and she wore the smile of a happy little slut, but a voice inside my head was insisting something seemed off.

  However, as much as I tried to pry the truth out of her, she claimed there was absolutely nothing wrong and that I was just being paranoid. Finally, I gave up on getting anything else out of her.

  I'd just had dinner, with my dolly sitting by my feet, her head in my lap. She'd eaten before me, and she told me earlier all she wanted to do for the rest of the day was to please me. I took her up on it, and my fingers tangled in the silky raven mane of her hair as I ate.

  "Do you want to play, dolly?" I finally asked, and she raised her bright, sparkling eyes to mine.

  She nodded, and I placed a finger under her chin, making her giggle as I tickled her gently.

  "Words, dolly," I reminded her gently.

  "Yes, Master," she whispered. "I want to play."

  "Good girl," I muttered. "Why don't you wait here while I get a few things. On your pillow, okay, dolly?"

  "Yes, Master," she nodded, assuming the innocent position of a little kitty cat while I got up.

  I rewarded her with a smile before leaving the dining room. I climbed the stairs to the first floor and retrieved what I'd wanted. I took my tie off and unbuttoned my shirt, taking a long, hard look at myself in the mirror.

  Sometimes it was hard to recognize myself. I was no longer the boy whose parents had been mercilessly killed at the hand of Michael Marino. I was a killer now, too. I'd killed Jasper. I'd killed Ophelia's family. So many innocents' blood stained my image it was hard to see past the carnage in the mirror.

  I raised my head proudly. I wasn't going to let the ghosts of my past influence me anymore. I was going to find Vlada for my girl, make up for what I'd done in the smallest way I knew how.

  Often, I found myself wondering whether I still would have taken all those lives if I'd known what Ophelia would mean to me eventually. I didn't like to dwell on it too much. Because after all... if I hadn't killed her family, would she
be mine now?

  No, she'd be married to Max, probably still pining after Ryker. We never would have met, and I never would have gotten to sink my teeth into her pale, porcelain skin.

  I turned away from the mirror, unable to stand the sight of my reflection for another second. I needed to fuck her, my dolly. I needed to take all my frustrations out on her sweet, innocent body.

  Walking down the stairs, I held my tie in my hands, feeling the soft silk with my fingertips. Ophelia was right where I'd left her, trembling slightly as I approached her.

  "Don't be scared, pretty dolly," I muttered. "You're going to be alright. I'm just going to blindfold you now, okay?"

  "Yes, Master," she muttered, and I was pleased I hadn't had to remind her to use her words.

  I placed my tie on her eyes, blinding her. Tying it behind her head, I made sure not to do it too tightly. I didn't want to hurt her. Just scare her a little bit.

  I raised her to her feet by putting a finger through the metal ring on her collar, and she shivered as I guided her against a wall.

  "Such a good fucking girl," I told her softly, my fingertips brushing her skin. "You're so beautiful tonight, dolly. I want to ruin you so much. Make that perfect makeup run when you cry for me. Are you going to sob for me, Ophelia?"

  "Yes," she breathed.

  "Yes, what?" I reminded her, my tone sharp enough to remind her of the consequences should she keep forgetting my name. "Don't fucking forget yourself, Ophelia."

  "Yes, Master," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Master."

  "Good," I whispered in the shell of her ear, kissing the trail of goosebumps down her neck. "I told you I'm not going to hurt you, dolly. Not tonight, at least."

  She relaxed under my touch, the slightest of moans escaping her lips as I touched her.

  "You like that," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Oh, you just love it, dolly."

  "I do," she whispered.

  "Don't speak," I growled. "Not unless you're spoken to."

  Her mouth shut, her bottom lip trembling. I leaned down to kiss her, my mouth taking hers savagely. I needed her more than I needed to breathe. She was the reason I lived, the reason I kept going. But a part of me never wanted her to know how much I needed her. I'd convinced myself I was more powerful when Ophelia had no idea how much I depended on her.