The Chateau Page 11

  He was quiet for a long time, as if he was thinking about my request, or thinking about something else entirely. Then he released a quiet breath. “I’m sorry about your sister, but there’s nothing I can do about that either.”

  My eyes started to water in devastation. “I know you’re high up in the hierarchy because of the way the guards respond to you—”

  “You just confirmed that someone else is the boss. I’m not the boss. What do you expect me to do?”

  “I…I don’t know.” I didn’t know how he could intervene, get that man to be less interested in my sister and leave her alone. “You could help us both escape. I know you said you wouldn’t, but that’s my only chance. I’m going to try whether you help me or not. So, if you aren’t going to tell me, then tell me where her cabin is.”

  He must have gotten fed up with the conversation because he opened the door to leave. “I’ll say this once more. If you try to run, you won’t make it. When that happens, they’ll hang you. And when that happens…you’ll be on your own.”

  13

  Silence of the Bells

  Magnus collected me the next morning and escorted me to my post, but he didn’t say a word to me.

  It was like he was angry at me.

  I should be grateful I had someone to look after me, but I couldn’t stop myself from wanting more, from begging him to get me out of this outdoor cage.

  Once I was at the table with the boxes, he walked off and entered the cabin the boss had entered days ago. My old guard was there on the other side of the clearing, his gaze clearly on me even though the hood of his cloak covered his face.

  I ignored him and turned to the table. I didn’t feel helpless anymore, not when I had Magnus to look out for me. He’d stopped both the executioner and the guard, so I had someone powerful on my side.

  Bethany spoke the instant I was beside her. “Girl, you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “I can’t believe Magnus saved you like that…”

  “I know.”

  “Are you sleeping with him?” She’d already asked the question, but she asked it again because she clearly didn’t believe me.

  “No.”

  “Then why is he helping you?” she demanded. “What incentive does he have?”

  “I’ve asked him the same question many times—he never answers.”

  The guard yelled across the clearing. “What’s taking so long?”

  I quickly turned and carried the first box to the table, feeling much better than I had yesterday after all that food I’d scarfed down. I set it down then returned to the table to prepare the next one.

  Bethany met me at the same time.

  “I need your help with something.”

  “What?” she whispered.

  “I need to figure out where my sister’s cabin is. Do you know?”

  “No idea. I could ask Cindy, but she’s not going to know either.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to look at where my sister sat. Cindy was nowhere nearby, seated much farther down the line. I would ask Beth to ask Cindy to ask Melanie during the workday, but that didn’t seem possible either.

  “Are you lying to me?”

  I stilled at the question and turned slightly toward her. “What?”

  “Are you lying to me?” she repeated. “Because a guard wouldn’t stop a Red Snow like that unless there was something going on. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. If I could have a guard to watch my back, I’d do it too.”

  I opened the next box and got it ready. “I’m really not lying.”

  “Then he must want to sleep with you.”

  “He hasn’t asked. He hasn’t tried.”

  “What will you do if he does?” she whispered.

  “I…I don’t know.” I didn’t want to give in to any man’s demand, but Magnus was powerful, and if he wanted something from me, I wasn’t sure how I could turn him down. But he didn’t seem like someone who would only do nice things in exchange for sex, because he’d had weeks to make the demand and he hadn’t.

  “What does he look like?”

  “He’s got brown hair and brown eyes. Looks like he could be part French and part Italian.”

  “Is he attractive?”

  I’d never really considered it because attractiveness was out of context here. How could there be any form of desire when every single day was horrific? “He’s not bad to look at.”

  An uneventful week passed.

  Magnus escorted the woman to bring me dinner at night, and while he usually brought me hot cocoa and some other surprise, he never stuck around to talk. For a man willing to risk his neck to help me, it didn’t seem as though he liked me very much.

  Or maybe he knew if he stuck around, I would just pester him to help me.

  Magnus came to collect me one morning, and instead of escorting me to the clearing, he took me away from the camp.

  I already knew where we were going. “Is there a drop today?”

  He walked ahead of me, moving effortlessly through the short mounds of snow. “Sounds like you already know the answer.” He escorted me to where the girls were waiting with the men and the wagons. Once he had me in sight of the guards, he turned away. “Don’t do anything stupid.” Then he walked back.

  Beth and Cindy were both there, and they immediately walked over to me once Magnus turned away.

  I instantly asked the question on my mind. “Cindy, do you have any idea which cabin my sister is in?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest to fight off the cold. “No. They don’t tell us stuff like that.”

  “At the end of the workday, do you ever see which direction she goes in?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  The last girls were escorted to the meeting point, and then we moved farther into the plains in front of the camp. A layer of snow from the last storm still lingered, but it had slowly melted to a smaller size because of the clear weather we’d had. It was sunny and clear today, so I took advantage of the conditions to look into the distance, to see if I could spot a landmark, some sign of human civilization.

  There was none.

  Like last time, the plane approached. It appeared from the Alps and came our way, the engine getting louder and louder. Then the crates fell from the sky, landing on the powder below. They dropped it as they continued to fly past, leaving a trail of cocaine-filled breadcrumbs.

  Then the plane left.

  “Move it,” one of the guards barked.

  We seemed to be out here at the same time as last time, so I hoped to hear that church bell again, that a priest rang it at the same time every day.

  We moved to the crates and started to put everything in the wagons. I wasn’t as lucky as last time, and there were no pieces of debris that could be used as a weapon. Even though my hands were gloved, they were still cold every time I stuck my hands in the snow to retrieve the smaller bags of drugs that fell out of their crates.

  The men sat on their horses and watched us, their bows and arrows on their backs, their horses snorting in impatience.

  We finally got everything onto the wagon and headed back to the camp, frozen and sweaty at the same time. I looked over my shoulder for a sign of life, for the hope that I would hear that ringing bell, to prove to myself that it hadn’t been my imagination.

  That it really happened.

  A storm hit that night.

  I’d been waiting for it.

  Because if there was a storm, that meant there would be snow.

  And we’d have to shovel that snow.

  Magnus opened the door that night, let the woman put the food on the chair before she walked out. He had a mug of cocoa and set it on top of the tray. Then he turned to walk out, like always.

  “Wait.”

  He stilled, standing near the door.

  “Could you stay awhile?”

  “No.” He opened the door.

  “I’m not going to ask you to help me escape. I j
ust…want someone to talk to.”

  My assumption must have been correct because he pushed his hood down and revealed his face before he grabbed the tray and chair and came closer to me. He set the tray on the bed then took a seat across from me, keeping six feet between us like he never wanted to get too close to me at any given time.

  His elbows moved to his knees, and he leaned forward, his chin down and his eyes on the floorboards. His jaw was free of hair, and his eyes were a little less hostile than usual. He pulled the gloves from his hands and stuffed them into his pockets.

  I grabbed the tray and put it in my lap. After grabbing my fork, I started to eat.

  He wasn’t averse to a conversation, but he didn’t put any energy into speaking.

  “Where does that plane come from?”

  He massaged his knuckles, like they stung from the cold. “Colombia.”

  I didn’t know anything about the drug industry, but I assumed that was where the plants were grown. They must be processed and then dropped here so they could distribute the drugs throughout Europe. Without confirmation, I assumed I was working among the most notorious drug lords in Europe. “Do you live in Paris?”

  “Mostly.”

  I ate my dinner, my eyes down most of the time.

  “You said you lived there.”

  I nodded.

  “You sound American.”

  “I am.” I noticed he had a clipped French accent, but his English was flawless. Most of the French spoke English, but they sounded much sexier doing it with their accents. “I moved here for a study abroad program. But I liked it so much that I decided to stay.” If I hadn’t chased my dreams, I’d be living a quiet life in America…as a free person. Now, I would be forced to work until my body gave out…and I was hung. It would happen to us all; it was just a matter of time. “I had a little apartment next to this coffee shop that I love. The university is just a few blocks away. I made a lot of friends at school, most of them native French people, but some of them visitors like I was. I haven’t traveled a lot, but Paris is really special. It’s so romantic, so thrilling. Sometimes, I can still taste the wine and cheese…and the bread.”

  “I’m surprised you speak so highly of it after what happened to you.” He raised his chin and looked at me, his hands together as they hung off his knees.

  I pushed my food around before I took a bite. “It’s not the city’s fault. It’s the people who took us.”

  “Us?” he asked. “They took you both at the same time?”

  I nodded.

  He rubbed his hands again, sliding his dry palms across each other. “That’s unusual. They usually only take one girl at a time.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “The hunters.”

  So that man outside my apartment had had his eyes on Melanie, must have noticed her somehow. It wasn’t his first time; he knew how to spot a submissive type, someone who would just do what they were told without causing a fuss. “I noticed one of the hunters staking out my apartment one night. He watched Melanie leave and walk down the sidewalk. But when he walked the other way, I thought I was being paranoid. A few nights later, we were in a wine bar. I was talking to my friend, and she was with some guys on the other side of the room. She’s gorgeous, so she always attracts admirers. When I saw her leave with them, I recognized the hunter from outside my apartment.”

  His hands went still, and he watched me, holding his breath even though he knew how this story ended.

  “I went after her, told her about the guy lurking outside her apartment, but she never listens to me…so she ignored what I said. I lost my temper and said things I didn’t mean—”

  “What kind of things?”

  “That I was tired of taking care of her…cleaning up her messes. Our mother passed away when I was eighteen, so I took care of her until she was an adult. But she makes terrible choices, over and over, and I was always the one who had to deal with it. When she was old enough, I moved to Paris just to have my own space.” My eyes fell in shame, for saying those things, for thinking those things. What kind of sister was I? “That only hurt her feelings more, so she got into the car. I didn’t know what else to do to keep her safe. There wasn’t time to call the police, especially when I didn’t even have any proof of my suspicions and they probably wouldn’t send anyone, so I got in with her.”

  He held my gaze, his hands still, as if my story hit him deep down.

  It was a stupid decision that led me to this insufferable existence.

  “She must feel like shit.”

  She’d tried to apologize to me, but I never forgave her. “If I could change my decision, I wouldn’t. I would have done everything all over again, because I couldn’t live not knowing what happened to her. She’s all I have left, and I’d rather die with her than live without her.”

  His hand started to move again, and he dropped his gaze, as if he were replaying that story inside his head over and over. “It makes a lot more sense now.”

  “What?”

  “You’re not the type of woman they go for. They want someone obedient. You aren’t like that.”

  I stared down at my food and pushed it around even though I was hungry. “Is that why you like me?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  When the silence continued, I lifted my head and looked at him.

  He kept his head down, his eyes on his hand. “You do exactly what I would do…if I were in the same position.”

  I stared at him and felt my affection grow, felt a connection that hadn’t quite been there before. It was the first time someone had showed me some kind of respect, complimented my disobedient qualities rather than trying to suppress them.

  “And if there really is no chance to get away…would you still try?”

  He lifted his chin and looked at me, those brown eyes shifting back and forth as he looked into mine. There seemed to be a lump in his throat because he swallowed, his hands still gliding past each other, the veins on the tops of his hands slipping under his sleeves. “Yeah, I would—because I’d rather die out there than live here.”

  14

  Thief

  I already knew where Magnus would take me that morning.

  There was snow everywhere.

  The storm had swept through the camp, returning it to disarray, the branches heavy with the snow piled on top, all the roofs coated, the stairs and railway covered in white powder.

  It might look like a winter wonderland…if you didn’t know what happened here.

  I struggled behind him because I wasn’t tall enough to navigate as quickly.

  When I fell behind, he turned around. “Step over the snow. Don’t push through it.”

  I took his advice, and it became a lot easier. “You don’t do that.”

  He ignored what I said and escorted me to the same place as last time, where the shovels were leaned against the house, waiting to be claimed.

  It would finally give me an opportunity to talk to Melanie.

  But I also dreaded that conversation.

  He nodded to the shovels and walked away.

  A sense of emptiness always fell into my stomach when he walked away, like he was the jacket keeping me warm, and the second he was gone, I was exposed to the elements in just my skin.

  I grabbed a shovel and searched for my sister until I found her.

  She was shoveling snow the way I taught her, protecting her back and using her foot to generate the force instead of her arms. She scooped it up and carried it to the tree line.

  I waited for her to return, pretending to struggle with the snow. That way, she and I could be on the same timing.

  When she came back to me, she wasn’t relieved to see me like last time. She had been dreading this moment, like she’d been thinking about this conversation for a long time.

  I didn’t have it in me to ask for details, to even address it.

  It was just too fucking hard.

  Maybe that made me a coward, but I didn’t know
how to be brave. “Where’s your cabin?” I dug into the snow and scooped up the fresh powder.

  She stilled at the question, surprised I’d skipped over the conversation neither one of us wanted to have. “Why?” She dug her shovel into the snow then carried it with her to the tree line, walking at my side.

  “Because I’m going to get us out of here.” I tossed the snow onto the pile.

  She did the same. “I’m the last cabin in the northeast part of the camp.”

  That meant she was farther back, closer to the areas the guards used.

  “Everyone is talking about how your guard helped you.”

  I walked back to the pile of snow we were working on. She moved beside me, keeping some distance so it wasn’t so obvious we were conversing. “I’m not sleeping with him.”

  “Nobody would care if you were.”

  “I know. That’s how you know I’m not lying.” I dug my shovel into the snow.

  “Do you think he’ll help us escape?”

  “No. I already asked.”

  We got more snow then walked back to dump it.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “Your throat looks better.”

  “I’m fine.” She didn’t need to worry about me, not when she was the one in distress. “I’m going to sneak out and collect supplies. When I’ve got enough stuff, I’ll get you in the middle of the night, and we’ll run for it.”

  She pushed her shovel into the snow but didn’t lift it again. She just turned to look at me. “What do you mean, sneak out?”

  “I found some tools to pick the lock. I’ve done it before.”

  “And you didn’t get caught?”

  Technically, yes. “No.”

  Her eyes were wide. “Oh my god…”

  “Once I have everything, I’ll let you know.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll have to wait until the next storm when we’re shoveling snow. Then we’ll go that night.”