The Pawn and The Puppet (The Pawn and The Puppet #1)

by Brandi Elise Szeker

“Then you’ll come to know how short lived your stay here will be.” Her head tilts mechanically, like the gears in her neck have thick layers of rust.

What. A. Bitch

She explained that we are taught not to bring up anything in their past. We focus on their future; reverting back to their childhood would cause their mental stability to worsen and reverse any progress they make during treatment.

That's not how... argh nvm

Niles is certain that a man within the iron bonds of the strict society we live in isn’t what I need. He believes I’m waiting for the rebel. The man that breaks the rules and can walk among the dirt and the trees without the need of a feather bed and a four-course meal.

When I flipped it over, it read—Harmony & Charles Offborth.”

No...

“You have to forgive not only your father but also yourself.

He does NOT have to forgive that piece of trash

“Miss Ambrose?” I freeze. I never told her my full name. “Don’t be frightened. He’s been expecting you.”

But before I can leave, I take a step in his direction, lowering myself into a squat so that I am now looking up at him. “You can try to convince me in every way possible that you don’t have a heart,” I say softly. “But I don’t give up. And if there is a heart somewhere in there—” My hand reaches out, touching the center of his chest. He stiffens like drying concrete, dark-mahogany eyes fixed on my fingers. “I’ll find it. I’ll be the first to find it.”

“Here’s a secret for our little game… I am never truly restrained.” He’s trying to scare me. He’s trying to give me pause. “That does not frighten me. What scares me is how you got these bruises.” The first genuine head tilt of surprise. His lips tug at the corners like he doesn’t know if this bit of shock is enough to make him grace me with his white teeth.

Dessin reaches his head around to the side of my face and kisses my cheek softly, leaving a warmth like a static shock in his wake, a tingle of energy where his flesh met mine. “Shall we?” he whispers into my ear.

“Good,” he whispers. “That’s good. Now tell me you’re safe.” I shake my head. “I need to hear you say it. Tell me you’re safe.” Another whine as I struggle to catch my breath. “I’m—safe.” A thick, wholesome tear slips from my right eye. “That’s right. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.”

Are we sure about that?

“Those aren’t the rules we agreed on, love.”

Oh shit

“Who—did—it.” The words come seeping out of his lips like smoke pouring off of a cigarette. I freeze, the hairs rising on the back of my neck.

Oh oh

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Death by poison is for cowards. I, myself, enjoy the theatrics of a blade.”

“You’re going to drink this. We’re going to fight through it together. And you’re going to leave this room without a scratch. They’ll think you’re an untouchable demon from hell.”

I was calling out for someone.” I sound like a lunatic. But he leans in, locking his aim on me, clenching so tightly I can hear his teeth grinding together. “A name I couldn’t put my finger on…” I continue, unsure if he is putting on a show of intimate interest for me. “And I felt true agony. A sadness and loneliness I have never felt before. Like a broken heart, perhaps.

Do... Do you two know each other from before?

The light touch shoots a bolt of lightning up my arm, and his eyes close in response. The sound of his ragged breathing blends in with the harsh winds and pounding rain behind him. His brows knit together as if my touch physically pains him. But his eyes stay closed, and his jaw clenches.

“Please,” he utters. His voice is gravel and thunder. “Tell me to stop.”

Damn

“Skylenna, my patience is wearing thin,” he seethes. “He said that I was lucky I wasn’t struck in the face or getting the paddle for what I did. And that because I’m a woman living with him—I could be his wife one day—so I should be disciplined daily.” Dessin is on his feet, looming over me like a heart attack.

“Look at me,” he orders, “if he ever strikes you… You tell me immediately. I will cut off every piece of him that he believes makes him a man and shove it into his mouth until he asphyxiates.”

But I stare a moment too long, and there’s a question that sings like a violin between us. The one neither of us wants to acknowledge, but it’s here, all the same, waiting to be noticed.

Well guess fucking what

“Say your goodbyes,” he says, murder dancing in his chocolate eyes. “I’m going to kill them all.”

He winks down at me, then readjusts to greet the table of conformists and orderlies. “Good evening.” The only sound is silverware crashing to the floor. I’ve never felt such a tidal wave of happiness—not at any point in my life—not like this. “I did not receive my invitation to this soiree, so I thought I’d bless the host with my unannounced drop-in.” He wears a comfortable smirk, then shoots a side-glance to Meridei.

Dessin’s hand swats downward in a brisk movement, tapping a knife at the handle and watching it flip upward through the air to land precisely in his palm. Without a moment of thought, he points it to the first orderly that spoke up. “Sit down.” He lifts his chin. “I’m not quite finished.”

“I’ve been in the mood for murder as of late. I have an unorthodox thirst for it. It’s like an insect inside my brain readjusts the wires, and instead of thirsting for a glass of champagne, I crave the heat from fresh blood expelled from a collated artery to coat my hands and drip from my fingers.” Someone drops their glass. That certainly took a turn. “But I’m trying to be better, truly. Because I get to see that beautiful face every day, even though she can be unnaturally optimistic”—he points to me with his knife, smiles sadly—“and it can be mildly annoying. I’d rather not let her down.”

“What was the twist?” He buttons the coat around Ruth, pats her on the head, then turns to face me. “Must I share all of my tricks with you?” I gesture my hands back at the house. “Yes, you must.” “Red piper dust. Sprinkled in the champagne, but once it hits stomach acid, it produces a vibrant red concoction.”

I push my fingers against my lips and let out a sound I haven’t heard since I was young and small. It hums pleasantly from my chest, tickling its way up my throat. Immediately his eyes meet mine, stretching wide, eyebrows arched to the sky. And now he is grinning. “You laughed,” he says, flustered with levity. I look down, smiling. I forgot how good it felt to actually laugh, release the built-up tension from my chest. “Yes, I did.” “That was—incredible.” His eyes soften. “You know I haven’t heard that—well, it’s a pleasant change from your constant frowning.”

“There is a rumor that Demechnef is looking for me. That I am the way I am because of our government is true to some degree. From the age of six to seventeen, I was trained, like no one in the world has ever been trained—for the war against Vexamen.

Dessin is unleashed of his shackles, racing to my side and holding me up by my waist. I grip his arms, squeezing my feeble hands over his muscles. His forehead touches mine. “He hurt you.” And his voice is a husky growl, the awakening of a new beast.

“Don’t ruin the night. Enjoy it with me.” He tightens his hold on my lower back, and I can’t ignore the electric sensation that erupts where his touch is placed on my body, as if our wires have crossed, entwined, and the tingling currents settle under my skin. He leans in, lips grazing my ear. “It is difficult to focus on why I came when your hips are pressed to mine.”

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Dessin steps toward him. Aurick shoots me a glare—a warning glare. The kind that sinks to the bottom of my stomach. “Don’t look at her,” he snaps his fingers in Aurick’s face. “Look at me.”

Cautiously, as if I’m about to pet a wild animal, I slide my hands around his waist, locking my hands together. The muscles along his stomach are as firm as bone, contracting with each breath he takes. And with that being said, he sighs and drops his head for a moment. I take it he isn’t used to someone touching him, holding him, being close like this.

“Ignorance is bliss, my sweet girl,” he finally adds. I tense up at his term of endearment and melt in a puddle, complete with his warmth and whole with this feeling I can’t describe.

“I want to touch you,” I say breathlessly. The hunger in his eyes strikes me like a bolt of lightning. My words seem to unhinge him. He snatches my hand from his stomach, bringing it to hook around his neck. The space between us is eliminated, and I’m reeled into his broad frame, chest against chest.

“I know what it is now… Your greatest fear is losing me. I know this because my greatest fear is losing you.”

“Dessin?” I ask. A sad smile. The kind you receive at a funeral. “My name is Kane. I’ve waited—a very long time to see you again.”

Oh daaamn