Darker Than Night - Amelia Wilde Page 0,40

the empty spaces. “Excuse me,” I murmur. “Excuse me. I’m so sorry.”

They barely notice me.

They’re focused on the show.

And—I can’t take another step, once I’m inside the doorway.

I expected it to include my father—I was warned. But I didn’t think he would be doing this. Horror turns my stomach.

He’s standing in the middle of the room, a leather strap in his hand, looming over a girl on the floor. It’s Savannah. She’s naked, and bruises bloom all over her body. A collar around her neck is attached to a long leash that ends in Demeter’s hand. I fight off the urge to cover my face with my hands. He’s been beating her for quite some time, but Demeter has recruited Alicia, my former roommate, to pin her wrists to the carpet so she can’t get away.

I’m supposed to go straight to Demeter, fall to my knees, and cry.

Change of plans.

16

Brigit

“Daddy,” I cry, and I’m in motion again, raising my arms for him, letting tears fill my eyes. They’re real tears. This is a fucked-up, awful place, and the energy from the men in the room is menacing at best. They’re all just waiting for their turn with these women and Demeter lets them do it. “Daddy, I’m so sorry.”

He turns his head toward me, blinking. His nose is still bruised from when Zeus punched him. It gives me a flicker of satisfaction, which is quickly shoved away by revulsion.

I hate him.

I’m disgusted by him.

But phase one of my new plan doesn’t involve throwing up on the carpet.

It involves this.

I pick up speed and run into my father. We actually collide. He’s not prepared for the hug and I’m not prepared to give it but I wrap my arms around him anyway. He reeks of alcohol and it doesn’t help that he gets his act together and pulls me in tight. “Daddy,” I say into his shirt. I haven’t called him that since I was five, but I can feel his delighted surprise. Over his shoulder, I can see James’s husband in the corner, his back against the wall. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

“What are you doing here?” He sounds genuinely shocked to see me, and for the first time in my life I realize that my father is a terrible man, but he is also very stupid. “Brigit, honey, you’re dirty.”

He takes a step back from me and brushes at his jacket. I let my lower lip tremble. On the floor, Savannah is frozen. Alicia, too. And slowly, very slowly, Alicia starts to inch to the side. “I can’t help it.”

“That man did this to you.” He inspects his jacket for any trace of filth. “Is that what happened?”

“Yes,” a voice says. “What did my brother do?”

For the first time, I summon the courage to look at Demeter.

My heart skips a beat.

She looks exactly like Persephone. Slightly older, but the same hair, same eyes. Even their voices are a near match. But the expression in her eyes—

I have to suppress a shiver. I have to plant my feet to keep from running.

All the humanity has been burned away from her eyes. They’re a stunning silver shade but utterly empty. Devoid of warmth.

And then she smiles, and I see the illusion of it—the way she convinces people to go along with what she says. A person who didn’t know better would mistake it for something genuine. There’s something off about the way she’s sitting. “He hurt me,” I tell her solemnly, and her eyes widen in a parody of shock. “He ruined me for everything that’s good in the world.”

Good—this is going well. This is a longer conversation than I thought we would get. My father hovers close by, but not close enough to touch me. He doesn’t want to touch me. I drop my face into my hands. Please, please, let the rest of the plan be in motion. They should be working their way from the outside in. I don’t dare turn around to see if any of the movement has entered the ballroom.

“That’s why I’m here.” I let the tears fall now, trying my best to cry prettily. Cal is moving now, too, working his way to his feet. To the exit. “I have nowhere else to go, because I’ll never be anything but a whore. Please. Help me.” I step over Savannah and fall to the carpet in front of her like she’s a queen. A mad queen.

“Brigit,” hisses my father. “What are you doing?”

I