Lillyanne Plume's Arc

Chapter 9 of 22

The house was warmer than she expected. Scott led her down a hall lined with dark wood and closed doors. He didn't ask if she wanted anything. He walked into a study, dropped into a leather chair, and gestured at the one across from him. A low fire ticked in the grate. Lillyanne sat. Her fingers still burned from the gate. "You have questions," he said. "Ask them fast, sweetheart. I’m tired." She had a list she'd been building since the train. She started at the top. "What is the game? What do they make you do? How many rounds. What are the rules?” He held up a hand. The strand of near-white hair fell forward and he didn't push it back. "I can't tell you the rules. Not because I won't. Because I can't. You'll understand when you're inside." He watched her face. "I can tell you that someone dies. Every year. Sometimes more than one. It isn't a metaphor and it isn't a story they tell to scare guests." He tapped his chest, once, over the heart. "And you never leave the way you came.” She kept her hands still on her knees. She had known. Marjorie had said it. Reading it in a warm room from a man who'd lived it made it heavier. "There are three ways to join," he said. "You can be a victim. You can be a watcher. You can be a player. Decide now. Before you leave this chair." "A victim isn't a choice." A quick grin flashed on his lips. "It is if you walk in without already choosing." She opened her mouth to answer. He lifted his hand again. "Before you speak. If you say player, know there is no undoing it once we enter the game. You don't get to change your mind halfway through. There is no guarantee you live. There is no guarantee you win. Most people do neither." He leaned closer. “It doesn’t matter how beautiful you are.” She waited to be sure he was done. "And what happens if we lose?" He shook his head, one short motion. "That's not an option." The fire ticked. She thought about her apartment and the hundreds of envelopes. She thought about the poker table where every hand ended the same and bored her by the third card. She thought about a woman in a white suit who'd taken her money without breaking a sweat. "Player," she said. He didn't smile. He nodded once, like she'd signed something. "Then we leave tomorrow morning. If I’m your partner, you'll do what I say when I say it. I won’t watch you die, so you can get angry, you can get tired of me, but you will not quit on me." She nodded, nerves running in her chest. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but she couldn’t say no. It was too enticing. “I need you to say it,” he said softly. Lillyanne nodded again. “I won’t quit.” "Good." He stood. "There's a spare room upstairs. Take it. You don't go back to the motel. From tonight, you're mine to keep alive."