Dying to Marry Him novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Night One

Gilt announces the rules, Kerensa's room holds a black notebook, and the first sentence she tells the Master happens exactly as worded; he takes off his glove, and a scream cuts the night.

Loretta Beck cleared her throat before the ring had finished settling on my finger.

"My turn," she said, and faced the Master with her reading glasses swinging on their chain. "I vow to keep this girl company for as long as her story runs."

The mist turned toward her. "So be it."

A second black ring closed around Loretta's finger.

"Loretta Beck," she told me, out of the side of her mouth. "I drove a school bus for thirty-one years. I know when a kid is lying to me."

"Kerensa Arbuthnot," I said. "I'm lying about being calm."

"Honey, I can tell."

The remaining brides were still giggling over Alyssa's vow. Three of them had already hugged her.

Then a door I had not noticed swung open beside the altar, and a man in a gold waistcoat strode out clapping.

He was stout and silver-haired, with a ring on every finger and a smile that went all the way to his ears.

"Bravo, brides! Bravo!" he cried. "Barnaby Gilt, your host, your friend, your fortune-teller."

The ceiling filled with gold hearts.

"Five of you have chosen the classic vow. Lovely. Traditional. Our viewers adore a classic."

Alyssa's smile wavered, but she nodded politely.

"And Contestant Eight." He turned to me, and his eyes were friendly and very bright. "A story with no ending. How inventive. We've never had one of those."

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

"Not at all! The Master grants it. The Master grants everything." He lifted a finger. "House rules, though. Three nights. Each of you gets a room, and the Master visits every room."

"Your words only work on what's in the room and between you two," he told me. "They can't open a door. And they can't use my name."

Gilt beamed at the ceiling. "Place your bets, darlings."

A hallway of black doors appeared where the chapel wall had been.

Mine had a brass 8 on it. Loretta's room was the one next door, and she squeezed my arm before she went in.

Inside was a narrow bed with a black coverlet, a small table, one chair, and a candle with no flame on it.

On the table lay a black leather notebook and a pen.

I opened the book. Every page was blank.

I had written forty-three novels, and I had never once been afraid of a blank page until that moment.

The door opened without a knock.

The Master came in with his head slightly lowered, because the door was too short for him.

"You told me to sit," he said, "so I will sit."

He took the chair, and it held him easily. The mist moved where his mouth should have been.

Up close his voice made my skin tighten along both arms.

"Tell me the story, Kerensa Arbuthnot."

I had given my name only to Loretta, in a whisper, from the far side of the chapel.

I decided that was a worry for later, and I sat on the edge of the bed and put the notebook on my knees.

"Chapter one," I said. "A woman is brought to a house she never chose."

Nothing happened. I kept going.

"In the room is a candle. The candle lights itself, with a warm gold flame."

The wick caught. A real flame, gold and ordinary, stood up on the table.

I stared at it.

The Master had gone very still.

"There has not been a fire in this house," he said slowly, "in a long time."

"Then it's overdue," I said, and my voice shook only a little. "The room is warm."

The room turned warm, then hot. I was sweating through the wedding dress within a breath.

"A little warm," I said quickly. "Comfortable."

The air eased. The Master made a sound that might have been a laugh.

Lesson learned. Everything I said would happen exactly as I said it, so I would have to stop writing like a person who expected editors.

"The man in the chair is very quiet," I went on. "He has been quiet for a long time. The woman does not hurry him."

"What does the woman want?" he asked.

"That's the next chapter."

"You said you would tell me a story."

"I said I would never tell you the end," I said. "I didn't say I'd skip the middle."

The mist tilted while he thought about that.

I looked at his left hand on the chair arm. The glove had its thumb mended in red thread, and the stitches were small and careful.

"He takes off his left glove," I said, and heard how my voice dropped.

He took it off.

The hand underneath was bare and pale, with long fingers and a knuckle healed crooked at some old injury. It looked like an ordinary man's hand.

It lay on the arm of the chair, palm up, and he did not move it.

"Why that one?" he asked.

"I wanted to see what it looked like."

Somewhere down the corridor, a woman screamed.

It was a high, raw scream, and it did not stop.

Then it did.

The Master stood, and the candle I had lit bent sideways in the draft.

"Stay where you are," he said. "Do not open the door."

← Chapter 1 · All chapters · Chapter 3 →

Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend