Page 28 of Red Masquerade

I should not have come here.

A hand roughly grabbed my arm, causing a shriek to escape my lips.

It was a man I’d never met before, his hand on me, flashing me a saccharine smile. “Going somewhere?”

I wrenched myself out of his grasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He leaned into me, cornering me against the wall and I winced, my muscles freezing. “You’re scared.” He cocked his head. “Why?”

“I just want to leave,” I said, forcing air into my lungs.

Was this man a predator, too?

That innate sense told meyes.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned. “Why don’t we return to the party together?”

He forcibly linked my arms with his, pulling me back in the direction of whatever was going on in that room. I thought no doubt he could hear my heart in my chest, pounding against my ribs, like a bird wanting to fly away.

Digging my heels into the floor, I gritted my teeth and pulled at my arm. “I don’t know who you think you are—”

His lip curled as he smiled, brandishing a sharp tooth. A pointed canine, glinting razor-sharp and gleaming white against his blood-red lips.

I didn’t have the word for what he was. But he was no man.

That was the murder weapon. Those teeth—it was how they drew blood, how theykilled. I knew it, like I knew I would die without air.

“Calm down.” He smiled. “We’re just going to go have some fun.”

Though his definition of fun already warred with mine. His strength was otherworldly, his grip on my arm like a vise. I couldn’t pull away from him, though I tried. The more I struggled, the harder he gripped me, digging his fingers into the flesh of my arm, hard enough to bruise.

“Stop.” The strong voice, familiar in its intensity, echoed down the polished hall.

My captor halted immediately, like he could not resist the command. His eyes darkened, narrowing into a scowl as we turned. A rumble of frustration, animalistic and low, deep in his throat.

“What are you doing?” Sinclair asked. He wore his robe, swishing at his knees, tied loosely around his hips, as he approached us. He hadn’t bothered to clean himself up, the blood disappearing underneath the silk of the robe. It painted his chin, his cheeks, along his neck, where two deep circular points leaked blood.

“Just found another recruit to join us—”

Recruit?

“I think not,” Sinclair said, stopping before us. His glare was sharp like ice, and the man gripping my arm seemed to shrink. He didn’t let go, but his hold loosened just the slightest bit. I wrenched myself away, pulling myself free, and backed up until my back hit the wall again.

“Come, Miss Helena.” Sinclair held his hand out to me, his fingers stained red.

I shook my head, but the words stopped in my throat.

“But—”

Sinclair turned and glared at my attacker. “You’re lucky I don’t have you flayed,” he hissed. “Now leave.”

His deference was clearly begrudging, but the man slunk down the hall, his hands in fists at his sides. I almost didn’t want him to leave, because then I’d be alone with Sinclair, who appeared as though he’d just stepped out of a murder scene.

They weremurderers. And I had walked right up to them.

“Come,” he repeated.

My limbs wouldn’t move. I felt a lightness in my head, a buzz that Iknewwasn’t from the drink I’d had. I couldn’t feel my fingers.