House of Darken (Secret Keepers #1)(25)

The Finnegans. I reminded myself there had been a reason I’d crossed to the elite side. Hopefully I’d find an opportunity to question these Darkens about where my family was. Maybe their council knew something. If I wasn’t killed before getting the chance to ask.

The girl was sandwiched between Jero and Lexen. Marsil and I were just behind. She was a few inches taller than my five foot eight, but somehow still looked small next to the boys. As if she had felt my eyes on her, she met my gaze. Her eyes were a dark blue, and there was a mild curiosity in that look, like she wasn’t sure what to make of me. Then she smiled and I almost stumbled over my feet. I hadn’t been expecting that.

“It’ll be okay,” she mouthed to me.

I blinked a few times, but before I could respond she turned back around. Marsil, who no doubt had seen that weird exchange, said nothing. His grip remained firm, but not tight. We stopped when we reached the huge gated estate that the Darkens called home. I looked toward my house. There was no car in the driveway. My breathing got erratic then as I tried to wheeze some air in and out.

“Are you okay?” Marsil asked me, and I found myself staring into his face, focusing on the hard planes in a desperate attempt to calm myself.

He tilted his head, concern emanating from him. I was starting to understand the kind eyes, and his gentle way of maneuvering me. He was a nice guy, that much was clear. And for some inexplicable reason I felt comfortable with him. Wasn’t it too early for Stockholm syndrome to be kicking in? Surely I shouldn’t trust my kidnappers, even if my instincts were telling me that Marsil at least had a truly kind soul.

“Just wishing I was back in my house,” I finally answered him, flicking my head toward the shitty side of the street.

Marsil looked like he was about to say something, but the Darken gates opened then and we were moving. After all of the hours I had spent stalki … observing their mansion, it was kind of surreal to now be inside the estate. If I wasn’t so worried that they were planning on killing me and tossing my body off into the water at the back of their land, it would have been a very cool outing.

I tried the best I could in the dark to see everything, but the rain and wind was making it near impossible.

Wait a minute…

“You’re not wet?” I said to Marsil, my brow furrowing as I looked him over. “And the rain is not hitting me…” I was still soaked – at least ninety percent of the mud was gone – but there was definitely no rain hitting me right now. It even felt like the wind was whipping around us, not buffeting me like it had done when I was chasing after them.

Marsil ignored me, as I expected he would. No way to explain that sort of weirdness in terms a human would understand. Freaking supernaturals. For the first time ever I attempted to wrap my head fully around the concept. I was going to owe the Finnegans a huge apology when I finally figured out their whereabouts.

We continued along the wide, double front drive. Huge trees lined either side, and then off in the dark it looked like flat expanses of landscaped grounds, the sort of place where I would have normally run and frolicked for hours.

If it wasn’t the domain of kidnapping assholes, of course.

When we reached a set of huge, ornately detailed wooden front doors, Lexen turned to Jero. “Bring the car in. We don’t need any questions from the other houses.”

Jero took off then, disappearing into the darkness. I wondered why they hadn’t brought the car up when we first passed. Were they worried about separating from me? Because I was such a danger to them? With my ten dollar shoes and threadbare jeans?

I knew the girl had her eyes on me again, but this time I didn’t look in her direction. I was not making friends with them, none of them. Lexen moved to the side after he opened the door. Marsil and I stepped into the mansion first, and as the lights flickered on all around me I found myself standing in the most beautiful house I had ever seen. Ever. Including movies and magazines.

Wide, dark oak floorboards spanned out across the open expanse of the entrance, an entrance which continued on into a living and dining room. I even caught glimpses of the large white kitchen bench. The far wall, which was like miles from the door, showcased the dark world beyond with floor-to-ceiling windows. The ocean would be crashing out there, hidden in the night.

Marsil let me go then, the front door closing ominously behind us. I knew there was no way I could escape; I had seen how fast they moved. Even if I did somehow manage to escape, where would I go? My shack was across the street and it had no security. The front gate guards were owned by them. Maybe even the police. Everything Michael had ever told me was hitting with full force now. I might have laughed at the time, but he had been right. I had no power, no ability to fight them. It was the worst kind of feeling, and yet my instincts didn’t seem to be picking up on any imminent danger. I decided to see if I could get some answers before panicking too hard.

The three crossed the floor, leaving me near the door. I eyed it for a beat, before Lexen said, “Don’t bother. You won’t be able to leave until we let you out.”

Shocker.

My shoes squelched as I followed their path, water dripping off me. Small shivers brushed across my body as the cold sank in deeper. Their house was styled in a “beach Hamptons, I’m richer than God” look. Expensive, but still seemingly comfortable. Wide, plump-cushioned, striped couches were scattered around a large ornately-manteled fireplace, facing toward the windowed view. Everything was done in cream and tan colors, and I wanted nothing more than to jump into the soft depths of one of those armchairs and snuggle deep.