The Lies We Tell (The Four #1) - Becca Steele Page 0,60

tie your material round your waists, and spread out as much as you can. When I sound the klaxon, the game will begin.”

There was a rush of movement as people hurried to find a good hiding place. I tried to remember the layout of the ruins from my previous visits and quickly raced through the crumbling archway to the far side of the castle, my heart pounding. There was a gap where the walls were completely missing, then a little corner section where I should be able to hide.

As I reached the corner, I noticed someone else, also with red material tied around their waist, had beaten me to it, so I carried on going, flying across the remains of an open courtyard, weeds and cobbles underfoot. I skidded through another crumbling archway and flattened myself against the wall, trying to slow down my breathing. I distantly heard the klaxon and tugged my hood further over my head, edging around the corner, hugging the wall, to see if I could spot anyone from the opposing team without being seen. It was so dark over here. At least it was a clear night—the moon provided a dim glow, although the shadows were so black it was difficult to see.

I heard what sounded like a pebble being kicked, and I whirled around, but no one was there. I was suddenly grabbed from behind in an iron grip, my arms pinned behind my back. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

A hand clamped over my jaw, and I instinctively tried to bite at it but couldn’t get my mouth open. My assailant was too strong.

Another figure appeared in front of me, hood up, a bandana with a grinning skull mouth covering most of their face other than their eyes, which were shadowed by their hood, so I was unable to make them out.

“What are you doing, hiding out here, all alone?” he whispered, his tone sinister, sending shivers through me. Definitely a man. If we hadn’t been here, in the dark, I probably would have laughed this off—well, maybe—but here, I was starting to feel a tiny bit scared.

He raised his hand and the moonlight glinted off a sharp, wicked-looking blade.

I panicked and started to thrash around, my assailant still gripping me tightly. “Stay still and you won’t be hurt,” a muffled voice whispered in my ear. Something about his voice was familiar, and I stopped my thrashing, my panic receding slightly until the man in front of me stepped nearer.

I watched, helplessly, as he brought the blade closer, whimpering as the cold metal touched my cheek.

“So pretty,” he crooned, moving the knife away from my face and trailing the flat of the blade down my body, in between my breasts, and down to my waist. I was frozen to the spot, not daring to move a muscle in case he accidentally cut me.

With a flick of his wrist, he sliced the fabric at my waist and it fluttered to the floor. The blade disappeared and I breathed a sigh of relief, only for my heart rate to kick up again when another hooded figure appeared, again with a skull bandana covering everything but his eyes.

“What do we have here?” He joined the other hooded figure. “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing all the way out here, on this side of the castle, with nobody else around?”

My body relaxed at his words, and the person holding me removed his hand from my jaw, placing his arm around my waist instead. “Come closer,” I challenged. “Let me see your eyes.”

“Let me see yours,” the man in front of me countered, stepping right in front of me and lowering my hood. “There you are,” he murmured.

“Cass?” I questioned. I was pretty sure now that this was three of the Four. What the fuck they were playing at, I wasn’t sure, but what I was sure of was that they wouldn’t harm me.

He didn’t answer me but leaned forwards and lowered his bandana. He kissed me softly on the lips, then stepped back, sliding the bandana back into place. Definitely Cass.

“My turn,” came that same sinister voice. That had to be Zayde. Only he could give off those creepy serial killer type vibes.

Cass moved to the side and Zayde was in front of me, cupping my cheek, then sliding his hand down to grip my throat.

“I could crush you so easily,” he mused, pulling down his bandana and pressing his soft, full lips to mine. Despite his disturbing words,