Chapter 14
The before, before.
LUCY BISHOP
A debt owed and etched in blood is unbreakable. No good will ever come from deals made in the dark. But I will not break my promise. It’s the only thing that will keep me, my sister, and my lovers safe.
I hold the torch unsteadily. The flame spits at me, warning me to turn back. But I’ve come too far into the woods. That is the story I tell myself. The one I will continue to tell myself long past this evening when I’m eaten alive by guilt in the middle of the night.
It seems a lifetime ago that we were children playing on the edges of these very tree lines. I can almost smell Mama’s porridge bubbling in the cauldron. That same metal pot that kept me safe from the flames when his vengeance destroyed the town.
Oh, how I wish Imogen and I had run away. I don’t regret falling in love. The gods only know where I might be without my precious Vale, Cage, and Atreus, but there was a time when I had wanted something different for myself. And for my older sister…
But like little white lies that compound upon each other, so do oaths and promises as they twist and grow.
They become curses, circling us like a pit of snakes.
I tell myself it is for the good of all.
For survival. But as I scurry past Devil’s Rock in the middle of the night like a grifter, I find my way into the very forest I used to fear.
The deal I intend to make is the one that will cross a line I can never come back from.
For survival isn’t just about food and water and shelter. No, it’s so much greater than that. It’s about power and autonomy. Without either of those, we stay enslaved. And I’d rather die than be at the mercy of the gods. So I must serve one devil in order to free us from those who do not serve us.
May my future children, and their children, forgive me for what I’m about to do.
Not far from the warded house of the Four Horsemen lies a cottage. It’s old and unkempt. The windows are boarded up and the floorboards broken. Even now, after all these centuries, I can sense the death in this place.
The acrid scent of blood still lingers in the musty rooms. I don’t like being in here.
The imprints of those who have been tortured claw at my skin, my bones; they scrape and tear at the fibers of my soul.
Not quite ghosts, but lingering particles of energy still clinging to the life they were taken from.
I grab onto the railing and try to steady my pulse as I make my way upstairs to the bedroom.
This is where my sister Imogen and one of her horsemen came during the last Wild Hunt.
He did things to her here… But their pleasure could not erase the tragedies that had taken place inside these walls before them.
I sit on the edge of the bed with both blue ribbons—mine and my sister’s. I weave them together in a tight braid, knotting both ends to ensure it does not unravel. We are bound. Our lives, our hearts, our souls… our blood.
“I make this sacrifice here, in the house of the Wild Hunt. As the gods bear witness. This bond”—I pull the ribbons taut between my fingers— “cannot be broken.”
A chill sweeps across my back as the downstairs floorboards creak. His footsteps are light for a dark being. So very delicate, and yet, they move with purpose. With flowing cadence. Closer.
I draw in a deep breath, my lungs burning as they fill with the same air that he moves through. Sweat pours down my body. It gets in between all my crevices. It has been some time since we last spoke. That familiar fear and repulsion return.
When he finally enters the tiny bedroom, every limb in my body revolts. I shrink back into the corner, plastering myself against the wall.
Some know him as Saint Nick. Others call him Father Yule. But I called him Krampus back when I was his little doll… No matter the name he hides behind, he is the devil through and through.
“Hello, Lucy. Have you missed me already?” He is not in his most monstrous form tonight. No.
He stalks toward me as he did when he first rescued me after the fire.
The dark-haired gentleman, whose magnificent sleigh I rode in.
The elegant and polite man with the chest full of pretty dresses.
The man who disappeared the second we arrived in the town of North. And became a monster in his wake.
“We have rebuilt the town. Thank you for allowing us to do so.” My voice is quieter than normal. His beauty always makes me shrink more than the side of him that is grotesque. His handsome face makes me more nervous.
He motions to the bed. “Shall we play a game for old time’s sake?” While his smile is luxurious, it is also sinister and depraved.
I clutch the braided ribbons to my chest. “You know I cannot. That I do not want to. Please… don’t make me.”
His grin deepens. “There are far greater things that I want from you today. A thing that will make up for everything your wretched family has caused me.”
And by that, he means the ways that both Imogen and I have thwarted his plans to keep sacrificing virgins.
He is angry that my sister was able to realize her past lives with the Four Horsemen.
That they rescued her and claimed her as their own.
He’s furious that I was her uninteresting replacement.
And now he wants compensation. A deal I promised to uphold if he let me go.
“Name your price, so long as it is not me or Imogen. Or any of our men.” I remain plastered to the wall, wishing this room were larger. Even with the double bed between us, he’s too close for my liking.
He curls his fingers into the dirty mattress and lets out a low groan.
“There is a great beauty amongst you. A raven-haired beauty of exquisite stock and breeding. She is not skin and bones as the likes of the Bishop sisters. No. This one is thick with supple curves, more meat than bones. And I would like to devour her.”
No. Not again. I can’t let this happen.
I shake my head. “No more sacrifices. You swore the Wild Hunt was over.”
His claws protrude from his fingers as his horns stretch out from his shiny black mass of hair. “This will be no sacrifice. I want her as my dark queen. An equal to stand at my side. A new deity for you mortals to worship. Bring her to me as your end of the bargain, and I will uphold mine.”
My heart hammers in my chest. Could I really just hand over some innocent woman to this monster? Maybe he intends to love her and treat her well. That wouldn’t be horrible. If it kept me and Imogen safe… Where is the line? Is there one?
“If I do this… if I lure this woman to you, then you’ll leave us be? You swear to never go after me or my sister again?” Shame fills me as I utter the words aloud.
His eyes darken. “That is the deal. I let you and those heathens escape from my palace with the caveat that you’d owe me a favor. This is what I want. Bring her to the Wishing Tree tomorrow night.”
“But what if she refuses? Why don’t you just take her? I thought you were all-powerful.”
He hisses and darts around the bed, bridging the distance between us until his breath is on my face. “I could take every single one of you. But I want her to want me. To need and ache for me, such as Imogen does for those treacherous horsemen.”
Ah. There it is. The devil wants to be loved. And yet he is the least deserving of it. But how can I refuse when it’s the only thing standing in the way of my freedom?
“I will not drag a woman from her bed kicking and screaming,” I challenge.
He coils a clawed hand around my throat. “Then you better get creative, little Lucy. The clock is ticking. If Willa Harker isn’t offering herself to me at the Wishing Tree tomorrow night, you will feel my wrath tenfold.”
My heart sinks. I have grown fond of Miss Harker. She’s not like the others. She’s full of grit and fire and curiosity. And she is madly in love with a man who adores her… I will have to trick her.
This is the line, and I am going to cross it. I have to. “You have my word.”