Cold Hard Secret (Secret McQueen) by Sierra Dean Page A

that wanted to hurt me.
    I didn’t want to dwell on that thought too much.
    I rose to my feet, and Desmond settled into a crouch beside me, butting his head against my thigh like a dog begging for a head scratch. I obliged him, and he licked my fingertips.
    “Any bright ideas on how to get us out of here?” I wasn’t sure if I was asking Desmond or my inner wolf.
    Considering Desmond couldn’t speak, he wasn’t going to be much help. And taking into account the wolf and I shared one mind, if I didn’t have any notions, she wasn’t likely to be much use either.
    I have done my job.
    Yeah. Helpful.
    “My dear, I can’t help but notice you haven’t been shredded to a bloody mess.” Peyton didn’t sound disappointed so much as he sounded nervous.
    It was then I remembered our deal.
    “I’ve bested the wolf.”
    “But you haven’t killed it.”
    “I won’t.” He didn’t need a big speech about my reasons or a plea for Desmond’s release. If Peyton had his way, Desmond and I would be dead before sunrise, and I wasn’t going to play into his plan. He could turn Des against me, but I wouldn’t kill the man I loved.
    Calliope’s voice nagged at me, reminding me of something.
    You will die standing next to the one you love.
    And what was it she’d told Desmond that same night?
    You’ll be with her in the end.
    No. I refused to believe we’d go down like this. I might be a fairly depressed and slightly morbid sack of shit these days, but I never thought I’d face off against Peyton and he’d win. Never. The plan had always been for me to leave here with his decapitated head as a trophy.
    “I understand if you’re afraid to face me alone,” I called up. “After all, it would certainly be humiliating for all your minions to watch someone with a pulse kick your ass.” I knew Peyton would hate the idea of a human killing him, even if he knew I wasn’t altogether mortal.
    He sat down on the edge of the pit, dangling his feet over. One good hop and I might be able to grab him. Maybe if the stones weren’t so slippery.
    “Let’s talk frankly, shall we? Now that I have you as a captive audience.” He laughed, and the shrillness of it sent me into a full-body shudder. It might be hubris on his part, but he wasn’t scared of me in the least.
    Hard to blame the guy when I was at the bottom of a pit and he’d managed to turn my backup into a wolf.
    “Go fuck yourself, Peyton.”
    “Or I could have you bound in silver and left to rot, and I could have my way with you until your body was nothing but bone and ash.” His voice was cold and level, but an edge of hysteria crept in as he got further along. “Because silver chains would bind you, wouldn’t they, Secret? Don’t pretend you’re mortal. I don’t feel like playing dumb with you anymore, little bitch.”
    Jesus. I’d thought it strange when he was behaving like a manic child, toying with me in a gleeful way. The guy was nuts, but given how much he hated me I thought this whole situation had been strange from top to bottom. But here it was, the venomous loathing I’d been expecting. This was the Peyton I’d visited when he was chained in the darkness. This was the Peyton who had promised he’d see me dead someday.
    And here I was, a pawn for him to use as he pleased.
    If he wanted to chain me, he would do it.
    I drew my sword.
    “You’re going to have to take me down first.”

Chapter Thirteen
    In the low light from the candles above, my sword didn’t gleam so much as it glowed a dark hellish red color. The handle felt warm in my hands although I hadn’t touched it in over an hour.
    Peyton laughed again, and I didn’t like how dismissive he was being.
    “I want to talk about you while we have all these people here. I want to talk about what a strange girl you are. Put away your toy. We’re only talking right now.”
    I lowered the blade but didn’t sheathe it. My gaze darted side to side, trying to come up with any way I might be able