Page 50 of The Masked King

“I understand,” he says.

“We have to leave.” I keep my voice low, afraid they might hear me through Brian’s earpiece. “Keep talking while I unfasten your mask.”

“Anything you say, Nyx.” His voice is strong and steady. My frantic heart clearly didn’t get the same memo.

“Good boy.” The other Nyx’s distorted voice practically purrs. “If you want me to beg, you’ll have to earn it, Brian.”

“How?”

“Make me wet.”

His shoulders shake as he chuckles, and I want to yell at him that we’re currently playing The Hunger Games with a bunch of Bratva psychos who missed the part where they choose a winner that isn’t them. What part of this scenario can he possibly find amusing?

“That would be easy if I could touch you,” he says.

“What are you doing?” I hiss in his ear. It feels as if the mask straps keep multiplying; each time I loosen one, my fingers find another. And another.

“You’ll have to use your imagination then.” The other Nyx’s voice is closer.

Finally, I free the last strap from the buckle and hold the mask in place before it lands on the floor. Now, all I need to do is get Brian out of the room, find a hidden panel, and get us both down to the basement before anyone realizes that we’re missing.

No pressure.

It occurs to me in a moment of blind panic that we crossed a line between fantasy and reality with deadly consequences, and I don’t even know how it happened.

Because they manipulated it, a voice inside my head responds. This was their intention all along, to throw me and Brian together, force us into a situation that would cause us to bend the rules, and then pit us against one another. And that final step is what scares me the most.

It’s also what flips me from flight mode to fight mode.

This is what I signed up for when I joined the police academy. If I’m going to stumble at the first sign of danger, I might as well hand over my police badge and go get a nice peaceful job in a library or arranging flowers or in a health spa where they play whale music all day and light scented candles and the visitors are all there to be pampered.

“Keep the mask in place until I tell you to drop it,” I murmur, my face close to his.

“Have you ever had an orgasm in a crowded place?” Brian asks Nyx.

“Sure.”

“How did it make you feel?”

I take Brian’s hand and guide him onto his feet. He’s warm, his hand swallowing mine and making me feel safe, and I wonder how it would feel to walk around Central Park with him, holding hands like we’re in love.

I mentally shake myself. This isn’t love. This isn’t even a game anymore, and if we get caught… Enzo taught me enough about how the mafia operates to know that we’ll have seen our last sunrise on a regular day.

“Uncomfortable.” The other Nyx dismisses the question.

“Then you were with the wrong person,” Brian says without a hint of alarm in his voice.

I squeeze his hand. “Drop the mask onto the seat and come with me. Now!”

I hear her say, “You think you would be the right person?” as I drag Brian across the room to the door Nyx would use.

I grip the handle, my fingers trembling. Any moment now, I’ll see Brian’s face, and I won’t even have time to react because…

A strangled groan reaches my ears through the mask I’m wearing.

Not Brian, even though he’s wearing a metal bracelet.

The sound comes from Nyx.