13. Frey

THIRTEEN

FREY

I understand terror and agony. After all, I've become well acquainted with both emotions these past few days. But rage? Hatred…

I am blinded by those new sensations, and I cannot think rationally. I just see red. The sound of the blood ramming against my eardrums, is all I can hear. The constant thrumming echoes in my head like a chant. Fight. Fight. Kill. Kill.

My rage is followed by numbness that paralyzes me before I can even comprehend it. I'm numb. Frozen. Throughout the wedding ceremony, I submit meekly over a blood-stained altar like a doll. I can hear the smothered cries and fearful pleas of the two surviving girls somewhere behind me.

And I can gaze into the empty, staring eyes of the girl before me, seeing nothing. Like a morbid soundtrack to this nightmare, my father's voice drones on and on.

"…By the rights vested in me, I declare you both bound in holy matrimony, a union that has been purified and blessed. May you both live long enough to enjoy the fruits of this marriage."

I'm in a daze as Colton finally shepherds me from the stables toward the house. I only snap back to myself when a door slams, and I realize I'm locked in the room with Colton.

"Get on the bed," he commands, stripping his jacket. "Now."

I slap his hand away. "Don't touch me."

He puffs up his chest, his head cocked. "Did you not just see what happened out there? The lengths your father is willing to go through? That was a convincing show. Next time, I'll kill one of those girls for real."

"Real?" I blink, unable to reconcile his statement with reality. I saw the blood. Tasted it. Felt it. There is no way in hell that wasn't real. Unless…

The same way my father has lost his mind, Colton is losing all sense of reality. That fact makes him a more dangerous opponent than I realized.

"That was real, you fucking dumbass," I snap. "Did you not see that with your own eyes? You think that he'll stop at those girls? He'll kill you too! He'll probably kill both of us!"

"Stop being dramatic, Frances." Colton towers over me and slams me down with such force that I am left gasping for breath. "You shouldn't concern yourself with anything but what I expect from you tonight. Your criminal bastard isn't here to save you, and I intend to take advantage of every part of yourself that you gave to him. Starting with this—" I feel him groping me clumsily through the waist of my gown, and instinct takes over.

He grunts when I kick him so hard, he falls backward.

"You stupid little bitch." He looks up from the floor, his eyes wild. "I'll make you pay for that. Real or not, I'll drag you back to that place and cut you with that knife. Or perhaps I'll convince your father to stop playing with your lover. Why should he die in a blaze of glory like the others? I say we capture him tonight and cut out his heart while you watch. Would you like that?" Teeth bared, he lunges for me.

"No!" I kick him again, grappling for leverage. As I hear fabric tear and feel nails gouging my inner thigh, I know I won't be able to fight him off. Not physically.

So, I don't think about the consequences or the concept of right and wrong. Reaching out, I grab the nearest item within reach—the lamp. Gripping it tight, I swing it as hard as I can toward him.

He makes an inhuman sound and staggers off, swiping at his face with his hands.

"Like mother like daughter," he snarls, his teeth bared and streaked with blood. The blow must have split his lip. Menacingly, he reaches for me. "You're going to end up just like her?—"

"No!" I throw myself toward him. There's warm blood on my cheek, but I barely even feel it as I peel the razor blade free and throw myself forward, jamming it into any part of him I can reach. His face. His chest.

"You crazy bitch," he grunts out, lashing at me with a closed fist.

"I am," I counter, ignoring the blow that glances off my right eye. "I am a crazy bitch!"

It's all I can say, and over again, as I keep striking him. Over and over, until he finally falls silent, and I can think clearly again.

As the door opens and someone steps inside, I don't care. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I mourn for Daze. I'll never see him again. The crazy, sexy idiot with charming gray eyes will never know just how much I love him.

I'll never taste him again.

At least he won't see me the way I am now, covered in blood, wide-eyed, and crazed. I have a clear view in the mirror across from me, but the person staring back isn't any iteration of Frey I've glimpsed until now. Clothed in black, with her blond hair streaked red, she's a demon.

"Frances…" The voice seems to come from miles away, barely able to penetrate the stupor I'm in. It's like I'm no longer attached to my body, but floating somewhere above, watching on with indifference. While I can see Colton lying on his back, covered in blood, I don't feel anything.

Not panic, not terror, not even guilt.

I feel nothing at all.

"Frances, honey, look at me." Someone is running their fingers through my hair in a smooth, gentle motion. Not my father, a part of me realizes, but I don't know who else the figure could be. My vision is limited to what is directly in front of me—Colton. His blood is forming a slowly growing puddle that seeps into the skirt of my dress. The funny thing about black silk is that it obscures any stains that might occur.

Despite the carnage around me, I seem untouched.

"Frances, honey, please! Look at me!" The stroking fingers leave my hair to brush my cheek. "Please. We don't have much time."

As I blink, I finally see the beautiful figure kneeling beside me, her face contorted in horror.

"C-Catherine?"

"Yes, it's me." I feel her soft hands pulling me to my feet as she nods. "It's ok, darling. I'm here."

Wait… A cold jolt of panic shoots through me as I look back at Colton. If she's here, my father can't be far behind. The remaining girls will be killed just to punish me. I can't let that happen. I can't. A sharp pain across my palm draws my attention downward—I'm still holding the bloodied razor.

"Frances, look at me!"

Catherine pulls her hand back and strikes my cheek. I feel the pain like a delayed response to a hot stove. Nothing at first, then burning, molten heat all at once.

"Snap out of it and listen to me!" I have never heard Catherine raise her voice before, but now it echoes off the walls. "We don't have much time," she insists, darting her gaze to the closed door. "Michael has left with the others, but Colton was due to check in via telephone soon. I'm sure Michael would have had him killed anyway. But this is your only chance to run, do you hear me? Go now into the woods, and don't look back!" She shrugs off her blue jacket and drapes it over my shoulders, revealing a simple gray dress underneath. I don't remember seeing her at the wedding. Where was she?

Suddenly, English seems nearly impossible to understand. "Run?"

"Yes, run! I'll handle things here. Just run and don't look back!"

As she shoves me to the door, I feel as if I am wading through water. Suddenly, one clear thought penetrates the haze of my mind.

"The girls. There are two other women. I need to find them?—"

"Of course!" Catherine nods. "They'll be in the stables, I think. Somewhere close by, but I'm not sure. I can't guarantee their safety. I only care about you. You're right. I failed Hale, but I won't stand aside and do nothing anymore. Whatever you decide, I'll try to buy you time. Just trust me, please."

I don't know whether or not I can. There is a possibility that she and my father are conspiring to ensnare me in an elaborate trap. The paranoia is unbearable, but I manage to snap out of it with a firm shake of my head.

"What about the guards?"

"They're distracted," she says with another frantic look at the door. "For now. I told them Colton demanded privacy. Go out through the back. By the time you make it outside, I'm sure you'll be the last thing on their minds. Just trust me, please, and whatever you do... Know that I always cared about you and Hale. Truly, I did. I do."

Something unspoken lurks within her words. A part of her plan that she intentionally isn't telling me outright. No doubt, something dark and dangerous.

Still, I can't deny the gratitude I feel for her, after everything. Reaching out, I take her hand. "Thank you."

She inhales deeply as her eyes fly to our clasped hands. "I…" Suddenly, she cocks her head as a sound rumbles from below.

"Go!" She shoves me forward. "Go now!"

I scramble into the hall and follow her instructions, surprised to find the winding corridors empty. In her coat, I feel like a ghost, unnoticed by everyone, and yet the slightest noise might give me away. As I make my way outside, I can't help but feel like it was all too easy. It was a trick. A trap. My father will be waiting for me in the courtyard, ready to snuff out another innocent life at my expense.

However, I see nothing but darkness as my vision adjusts, except for a faint orb of light denoting the stables. It only takes me a split second to make up my mind. Rather than escape toward the road, I head toward the set of buildings, unsure of what I'll find.

Suddenly, shouts rise up from the house. Then, the crash of broken glass. Startled, I turn back and stare. On the second story, I recognize the window of the room Colton imprisoned me in. Only now, orange flames lick at the glass, glowing in the darkness.

Catherine. I start to return in the direction I came from, but then I stop mid-step as her plea echoes in my mind. Trust me.

With a heavy heart, I turn around and run blindly toward the stables. Despite my attire, two guards run right past me toward the house. In the stables, one remains, peering warily from the entrance, and behind him, I can see the place where the girls were kept, the door closed.

I look around and find a shovel. It's heavy, but I use what strength I have left to heft it as high as I can. When I approach the guard, he doesn't even have time to cry out. I watch his body fall, and a strange panic comes over me when all I feel is nothing.

It's like I'm sleepwalking to the stall, fumbling with the lock.

"The keys," someone cries out to me. "He has the keys."

I turn back to the guard and shove my hands into his pockets. In one, I find a set of keys that gleam in the darkness. On unsteady feet, I race back to the stable and shove one of the keys into the lock. On the third try, I get the door open and discover two frightened figures huddled at the back of the enclosed space.

"We're chained," one of them says, pointing to her ankles.

The key for the door works, and once they're freed, they scurry to the doorway. "We need to go now, because when they come back…" She breaks off abruptly, her gaze fixed on the house. As I follow in their wake, I realize why.

The entire house is on fire, a blazing inferno of orange flames that swallows the top of the structure. Suddenly, Catherine's parting words to me make sense. This is what she meant by not looking back.

"We need to go." I head toward the woods, unsure of where the hell I'm going or how. The guards will only be distracted for a few moments, if that. I can hear the girls in my wake as we stagger near the main road.

Only God knows what will happen next.