The bouncer bared his teeth and slowly removed the velvet rope. We walked past, Keaton’s grip tightening on me even more. For some reason, I appreciated this, appreciated the protectiveness. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I was intimidated. Keaton was the only one here who needed me, who would protect me. I had to trust him even if I didn’t want to. I didn’t have much of a choice.

  “Oh.” He stuck the cigarette in his mouth and was somehow able to move his mouth around it even as he spoke. “And you ever look at her, or me, that way again, I’ll shred your intestines and force feed them back down your throat, know what I mean?”

  I frowned. He saw my reaction but waited until we were deep into the club before he leaned forward, invading any sort of boundaries. “What?”

  “Was that little display necessary?” I asked.

  “Babes, I assure you, there’s nothing little about my display, know what I mean?” he asked, leaning forward so his forehead grazed mine.

  I rolled my eyes, but it was difficult to muster any sort of disgust. Not when his hand was on the small of my back and his body angled towards mine, trying to protect me from anyone hitting it accidentally or otherwise. He pulled his cigarette from his other hand, glaring at everyone in our way until he reached the bar.

  Sticking the cigarette between his lips once more, he grabbed the back of the neck of…well, I wasn’t sure what it was. It almost looked like the head of an octopus, with the body of a human. Something strange and oddly compelling.

  “Move,” he growled.

  The man - thing? - didn’t even fight him. One look at Keaton sent him scurrying to the point where he nearly fell off his stool before scurrying into the protective blanket of the crowd. Keaton swept his gaze to me and perked his brow.

  “Well?” he asked. “Gotcha your own seat.”

  “How chivalrous,” I remarked dryly, but I took a seat, spinning in the stool until I faced the bar itself.

  My eyes swept across the various bottles that hung in nooks and crannies embedded into the wall. The colors were familiar but strange all at the same time a neon sea-green, a shock of purple, a dull crimson.

  “What is all this?” I asked Keaton.

  I hated that I had to ask him anything at all. I didn’t like relying on him for information.

  “You never seen drinks before?” he asked, arching a brow at me that was both infuriating and amusing at the same time.

  “I have, obviously,” I said. I leaned on the bar so I could get a better view. One bottle with amber liquid had a spider crawling in the drink. How the spider was able to survive and what that meant for the liquid, I had no idea. But I was…intrigued. “I just…I’m only twenty.”

  “So, you telling me you’ve never had a drink?” he asked.

  “It’s not -” I had no idea why my face was turning red. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. Being focused on school and finding my brother was nothing to be ashamed about. “It’s not…”

  Keaton snapped his fingers, and suddenly the bartender appeared. He looked normal enough, save for the gills in his neck.

  “Give me two firecrackers,” he said.

  It took the bartender all of two seconds to make the drinks. He poured the red drink with bubbles in them in front of us. They were in tiny shot glasses. The bartender pulled out a lighter and set each drink on fire, causing tiny sparks of blue, red, and yellow to shoot a foot in the air before it fizzled out.

  My lips curved into a grin as I pulled my gaze away from the drink to look at Keaton. I couldn’t help it.

  He grabbed his own and brought it to his lips. “Bottom’s up, babes,” he said. “You’re in the land of the dead, after all. Live a little.”

  I lifted my glass, furrowing my brow. I wasn’t sure if this was the wisest decision I had ever made. Granted, agreeing to marry Keaton - a heathen - definitely wasn’t the best decision I had ever made either.

  Honestly, I was curious. I wanted to know what this was like. I wanted to embed myself into this world because maybe it would give me the answers I needed to finally make sense of what happened to my family.

  I glanced over at Keaton. He looked at me, patiently, waiting. There was a…gentleness there, as odd as it was for me to think. Like he wanted me to know he would be there to take care of me. He wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

  I nodded once, telling him I trusted him.

  Idiot. You’re a fucking idiot.

  I tilted my glass in his direction. “Bottom’s up.”

  I was drunk. There was no other way to put it. This was the truth. I had to hold onto the bar to ensure I didn’t fall into a pile on the floor. If it wasn’t for Keaton’s steady hand on the small of my back, I was almost positive that would have happened at least two or three times already.

  “Jesus Christ, babes,” Keaton said, leaning his head towards me. He was close - everyone was because of how full the bar was - so I could feel his hot breath on my face. It didn’t feel so bad the way I thought it might. In fact, it was reassuring. He was still here with me. He hadn’t left. In fact, if I was being honest, he hadn’t even tried to take advantage of me either. “I didn’t know you were this much of a lightweight.”

  I laughed at that, throwing my head back. His eyes feasted on the column of my throat and my insides bubbled with something. I liked that he stared at parts of my body I didn’t realize were appealing to the opposite sex. It made me feel…beautiful.

  Not that I was that type of girl who saw my worth in my beauty or, like, I thought my worth was based on his approval.

  But I liked feeling desired.

  The fact that I was desired by Keaton of all things didn’t exactly stroke my ego, but even I couldn’t help but notice the way other women looked at him. Like he was the sky filled with stars. Like he was the two suns and the three moons that seemed to make up this place. I didn’t fully understand it, not really, but even I had to admit that I was drawn to him. He was alluring and that made things dangerous.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have had more shots of firecrackers, but how could I help it when little firecrackers sparked from the drink every time? And honestly, my body was warm, my cheeks were flushed, and this burden I seemed to be carrying since Davidson found me seemed to disappear…at least, temporarily.

  “We should get home,” he muttered.

  “What?” I squealed like a stray cat.

  “Don’t what me,” he said, wrinkling his nose. Maybe I was drunk, maybe I was just being sensitive, but there was something akin to disgust in his eyes.

  Disgust.

  Coming from Keaton.

  “You clearly can’t hold your liquor, and I sure as shit don’t want to risk you making a fool of you and me because of your loose lips and your loose body parts.”

  Without warning, my hand shot out and slapped him across the face. His eyes widened before they narrowed in my direction. Teeth clenched, bared, like some kind of wild animal, loose and unhinged and needing to sink his sharp teeth into something warm and succulent.

  If Keaton was a drink, he’d be whatever was in those hangover tonics because suddenly, I was no longer drunk, not even tipsy. My head wasn’t full of bubbles, and my bones seemed to grow back in my body. I was stone-cold sober.

  “You forget, babes, just who you’re dealing with.” He grabbed my wrist, squeezing it just enough so it would hurt, would probably leave bruises on my wrists. That was the least of my worries - because he was right. I kept forgetting who I was dealing with.

  This was Keaton.

  Keaton.

  And I was in his domain now.

  It was only then that I glanced around and realized that we had drawn the attention of everyone immediately surrounding us. Eyes lingered, some filled with curiosity, others filled with spite, and others in anticipation at what Keaton was going to do to me.

  Because I had berated him. Publicly.

  He was a heathen, a well-known, intimidating figure in the Void, and here I was, some human, throwing my own tantrum, even striking him across the face. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe his words were hurtful but that didn’t give me the right to lash out this way. I shouldn’t have struck him.

  “I’ll deal with you when we get home, darling,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I opened my mouth, ready to apologize. Ready to tell him I understood I made a mistake and it wouldn’t happen again.

  But I never got the chance.

  Keaton practically dragged me out of the bar, threw me in the car, and we were on the way back home again. Whatever he was going to do to me, there wouldn’t be any witnesses.

  5

  By the time we got back to the house, I was even more sober than before.

  I was also pissed.

  I agreed to marrying Keaton. Granted, we hadn’t tied the knot yet. I refused to look at the ring weighing down my left ring finger even though it was impossible to ignore. But the sentiment was the same.

  What I did not agree to was becoming a prisoner in a world I didn’t belong to and didn’t understand. If Keaton talked to me, told me why we needed to leave rather than just ordered me to do it, I would be much more open to listening to him. But to drag me around like I was some incompetent child…

  It didn’t sit well with me.

  The second the car turned off, I threw open the door and got out of the car. I slammed it shut and stomped all the way back to the house. Keaton shouted something at my back, something about slamming doors and chipping paint, but I was in no mood to deal with his attitude.

  I slipped inside the home and slammed that door too. The window to my left vibrated from the force, and for the briefest of moments, satisfaction rolled through my body like a wave. Maybe I was acting like an incompetent child but it felt good to act out every now and then.

  “And what was that?” Keaton popped in, throwing his arms out, and floating over to me in a way that caused me to move backwards until my back hit the wall behind me. Those green eyes pinned me in place and I felt even more trapped even though Keaton hadn’t actually touched me. “You throwing some kind of tantrum? You on the rag or some shit?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That’s disgusting,” I snapped.

  “Be lucky you don’t have to smell it,” he snapped back. “What you did back there -“

  “Wait, what?” I felt the blood drain from my face as his words sank into my skin. “Did you just say you can smell…that?”

  Suddenly, Keaton’s lips tugged into a slithering smirk, eyes darkening a fraction. Heat was the only way to describe the gaze, and it left me…unsettled. As far as I knew, desire wasn’t contagious. But maybe this was part of Keaton’s magic, why he was so dangerous. Because he could make me - and other unwilling victims - feel things we definitely didn’t want to feel.

  But could he manipulate something like feelings? I didn’t think that was possible. Not even God could force everyone to love Him, so I doubted Keaton could force me to want him.

  Which meant…

  No.

  I clenched my teeth together and looked away from his penetrating gaze. I still couldn’t escape him even as he towered over me. How could he make me feel so damn small when he wasn’t even that much taller than I was?

  “Been wondering what yours might smell like,” he drawled in a low voice that scraped against my skin and caused little tiny ripples to shudder down my back. “Strawberry wine? Something tangy and sweet, like peaches and cream? Or maybe you’re more cherry-flavored, hmm?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  I needed to change the subject. Now. Fast. Before he started to see things about myself I couldn’t see. Things I didn’t want to see.

  “Why did we have to leave?” I asked. Unfortunately for me, my words shook and I cleared my throat after my question in hopes to get more control over them. “The bar, I mean.”

  “Because you’re a sloppy drunk and you can’t seem to keep that mouth of yours shut,” he growled, all traces of desire evaporating in an instant. “Thought you’d be able to hold your liquor, what with the scent of tragedy you have on you.”

  “Tragi-what?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You and me gotta get something real clear real fast, babes,” he said. “You cannot, no matter what, ever touch me that way in public. In the bedroom, I’m all for it. The rougher the better, know what I mean? But you…” He pointed a finger in my face, and I noticed the way his knuckles turned ghostly white even in the shadows of his empty living room. “I have a reputation, and if I don’t live up to it…well, it’ll get bad very quickly, you hear me?”

  I swallowed. “You can’t -”

  “You don’t get to tell me what I gotta do,” he said.

  “But -”

  “No buts.”

  I clenched my teeth together and leaned forward. “I’m not just going to some docile wife who does whatever you tell her to do,” I told him. Maybe I should have thought about that because he still hadn’t given me any info on Richard and he was my only hope to figuring out what happened to him. But I couldn’t just sit back and let Keaton treat me like a piece of property. Just because that was acceptable back when he was alive didn’t mean it was acceptable now, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be okay with being in a relationship like that - even if it was one of inconvenience already.

  “I don’t want a docile wife,” he said. “Ain’t no fun that way. But you gotta understand there are rules around here. Rules it’d behove you to fucking learn and follow.”

  “Such as?” I bit out. I didn’t want to admit he was right.

  “Such as, in the Void, you belong to me,” he said. “And that’s a matter of honor, babes, so treating me like a punching bag ain’t going to cut it. I’m going to have to punish you so everyone knows I haven’t gone soft.”

  “Like that’s possible.” I sneered.

  “Damn straight,” he said. “Now…how to enact your punishment…”

  He let his voice trail off. I took a deep breath, hoping it wouldn’t shake. I didn’t want him to think I was intimidated by his so-called punishment. Would he really hurt me?

  Maybe.

  Being at that bar, I knew he did have a reputation. His heathen status made him somewhat of a celebrity, but one of those celebrities people were scared of, not one they adored. Everyone tended to keep space between themselves and Keaton, even if they were drawn to him. And, whether I wanted to admit it or not, there was quite a few women who watched him with eyes that lingered too long, narrowed in on me, and clouded with desire whenever he happened to face them.

  A prickle of something knotted inside of my chest and I pressed my lips together so tightly, I was sure they trembled.

  “You…you scared of me, babes?”

  Keaton’s low, gravelly voice cut through my memories of a few hours ago and caused me to snap my eyes back into his. There was still that deep intensity, but something else lived in those irises…something left to be discovered.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Yeah. Partly, I guess. I know you need me so you won’t hurt me, but you must be clever so you can get around trivialities if you really wanted to.”

  He arched a brow, staring at me for another moment. I reached up and brushed hair over my shoulder. Without warning, Keaton whipped out his hand and grabbed my hand. His grip was less biting than before, but he yanked it towards him, bringing it close to his face. He furrowed his brow, twisting his lips into a frown.

  “What?” I asked. I tried to pull my arm away from Keaton but he wouldn’t let me. “What?”

  I dropped my eyes to try and see what it was he was seeing, and only then did I notice the fingerprints on my wrist from where he grabbed me earlier. My eyes lifted to read his face, but I couldn’t decipher the wrinkled brow, the curved lips. I might have said he felt sorry for his action, but this was Keaton and I doubted that he regretted anything he did or said. Anything that might have resembled such emotions were just me projecting what I wanted but knew I would never get. In fact, I didn’t want to want sympathy from Keaton because I doubted he remembered what that might feel like.

  “I’d say this serves as punishment,” he said before dropping my hand dismissively and taking a step back. “Though, I would like to say, I don’t typically leave marks on my women unless we’re in the bedroom.”

  “Women?” This surprised me, that he could have multiple women who wanted him in such a way. Then again, women were crazy at times. They thirsted over ugly serial killers and married themselves off to the king of Hell just because of some dark power and a lack of fatherly approval.

  “Surprised or jealous?” he teased.

  I scoffed. I wished he would step back, give me some sort of space to move around in. I didn’t like how close he was to me, didn’t like the fact that I actually warmed at the thought of him close to me.

  “More like neither,” I retorted.

  “You keep telling yourself that, babes,” he said. His eyes dropped again to my hand and his gaze lingered on the ring. “You know, we need to get hitched, right?”

  I pulled my hand away from him, and this time, he let me, slipping out of his grasp, the cool air blanketed my skin, but instead of feeling relief, I felt…shaken. I didn’t want to contribute the unsettled feeling to something as ridiculous as Keaton holding my hand so I ignored it just like I was ignoring everything when it came to him.

  “Yeah, I got that,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. He still hovered close - too close - but I could angle my body away from him. Hair fell over my shoulder and helped mask my face from his prying eyes.

  “No, no, you don’t.”

  I frowned, cocking my head to the side. He ran his fingers through the rat’s nest of blond hair but his face didn’t seem disdainful or smug. There was a seriousness to it I didn’t expect.

  “Babes, you’re a human. In the Void. That’s just asking for it.”

  “For what?” I asked in a low voice. I didn’t want to be intrigued by anything he said but I couldn’t help it. My curiosity about this world was growing and I wanted to learn as much as I could. I wanted to soak it up, to immerse myself completely into it in hopes it would somehow help me find my brother.

 

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