23. Theater of the Damned
Theater of the Damned
Rumor Malefic
Crimson silk skimmed my hips and puddled on the floor.
The deep red brought out the brightness of my pale skin and the depth of my black hair.
The corset hugged my ribs as the skeleton gave it a hard tug and laced the back.
Twenty leaned on the edge of the breakfast table, observing.
“The hair is up too tightly. Give her some face framing pieces. Love the black hair with the red. You look very menacing and seductive.”
“That’s exactly what I’m going for,” I replied, swatting the bone fingers away and smoothing my hair as I pleased. “It feels strange to be dressed up—and I don’t remember when I last wore my hair back. Mother and Matri’s goodbye ceremony, I suppose.”
“Goodbye?” Twenty asked, his slitted eyes meeting mine over a bone shoulder in the mirror.
I smoothed the bones of the corset. “They were taken in the rapture many years ago. Matri used magic to… it doesn’t matter. They’re gone.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Twenty held my gaze as the skeleton left the room.
My teeth grit together. “You should be. It’s yours and your brothers’ fault for not protecting us as you should.”
Twenty cocked his head in a very cat-like way. “Is that what you think? Interesting.”
“Am I wrong? Is that not the lords’ duty?”
“It is, however, purrrrhaps you don’t have all your facts straight.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”
“Goddess, no. You mustn’t tell Riot or Spade that I’m back. Just like any good feline, I will announce myself when I’m ready.”
“Not ready for a reunion?” I pressed. “Why? Why did you run off? How long were you gone?”
“Never ready for a reunion with them. Why ? Oh, why not? And I was gone for, oh, fifty years, give or take.”
“Were you a cat that whole time?”
“Pretty much.”
“Can you turn back into one now?”
Twenty shrugged. “Haven’t tried. Not since you kicked me out of my furry form. Why? Do you miss petting my fluffy tail?”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help my slight smile.
Twenty was at least a more tolerable Blackthorne boy, and he seemed to dislike his brothers.
Maybe we would get along, and he would prove to be useful to me.
“Don’t wander off and get lost again. I have a lot more questions for you when I return from dinner. ”
Twenty huffed a laugh and sauntered toward me. “This castle built me. If only I could get lost in it. No, I can assure you, I know this place better than anyone. The things I could show you…” His thumb lightly brushed my cheek, and something warm twirled in my chest. “Eyelash,” he explained.
I am not attracted to a cat man.
I am not attracted to a cat man.
I am not attracted to a cat man.
Swallowing, I cleared my throat. “Alright, well, wish me luck.”
“Go hex all the bad men, honey.” Twenty sat on the chair and flipped through the grimoire. “I’ll have cookies and milk waiting when you return.”
I didn’t know if he was being playful or serious, and truthfully, I would have rather stayed in my room with him for the evening and talked, but my duty to my sister outweighed my preferences in that moment, as I slipped down the hall in my evening gown.
When I reached the top of the landing, it occurred to me I didn’t know where the dining room was. Behind me, the grandfather clock didn’t miss a beat. “Lady of the night, are we?”
“What would happen if I poured boiled water over your gears? Would you shut up?”
The machine narrowed his eyes. I’d never been glared at by a clock before. Nice . At the bottom of the stairs, a skeleton waited and offered me its elbow bone, I assumed to escort me to the dining room. A grimace soured my face. “No, thanks. I’ll follow behind you.”
The expressionless skull nodded and clanked down the dark hall, deep into the castle.
Bone on bone noise was not something I wanted to grow accustomed to.
The long hall revealed areas I hadn’t explored.
Wariness weighed on me as each stone statue turned to watch me as I passed.
Canvases danced with their respective sceneries and vases held wilted, dried flowers.
The skeletons fit right into the spooky decor at Blackthorne Castle. Finally, we reached the dining room, and the skeleton opened the door with a bow.
The room was enormous and lit with low light from a string of red taper candles down the center of a long table. On opposing ends, Riot and Spade stood when I entered. Riot’s eyes widened and he grinned when he took in my ensemble. Meanwhile, Spade’s glance narrowed and he steeled his jaw.
Hmpf. Maybe he prefers blondes.
“Rats sure do clean up nicely, don’t they, brother?” Riot met me, taking my hand and placing it in the crook of his elbow as he escorted me to my seat at the middle of the table.
“No comment,” Spade grumbled as Riot pushed in my seat as I settled in.
Pasting on a fake as hell smile, I looked over at him. “Wonderful to see you, too.”
Riot took his place at one end of the table. “How many men have you made cry today, darling?”
“Never enough.” I lifted my wine glass. “A toast to getting what we want.”
Spade snorted as Riot let out a laugh. “I’ll toast to that—I want a good many things.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Please, enjoy the salad course. There’s plenty more food to come.”
“Wonderful.” I smiled, spearing a tiny tomato with my fork.
“It’s the perfect time to discuss why I’m here and how you lazy lords are going to help me.
Because I’ll be damned if I sit here in luxury, eating full meals, wearing fine clothes, and forget my sister and my town as they are hunted and hungry. ”
Riot let out a long, dramatic sigh. His hair was tied back in a slick ponytail, and he wore a silver silk, button-up shirt.
Stupid handsome. “ Oh, no. The typical fantasy book maiden.” Riot took a long sip of red wine.
“ ’No, sir, please don’t take my rags and dress me pretty and feed me well in this lavish abode.
This is criminal! Take me back to my hole in Willowspire!
’ Get a grip, Rumor. Enjoy yourself for once. ”
Anger reddened my cheeks. “Oh, how I envy the people of Willowspire right now, because they’ve never met you. It’s becoming more and more clear why you boys hide away in your castle. Cowards in a throne room.”
Spade huffed, and when I regarded him, he was smiling slightly.
The man was infuriatingly handsome. His black hair shone deep blue in the candlelight, and his piercing gaze had an essence of heat behind it.
Not hate, but something else… His gaze dropped to my lips as I took a small sip from my glass.
Maybe he wasn’t only interested in blondes after all.
A bone arm cleared our plates and returned with steak and asparagus. The steak cut like butter and melted in my mouth. “Where do you source your beef?” I asked, taking another mouthwatering bite. “I see a bounty of food and bony servants, but where does it all come from?”
Spade lifted his hand, dark shadows weaving between his fingers like tiny snakes. “Magic.”
“Dark magic?” I dared to ask, the buzz of the wine making me bold.
To my surprise, Spade’s typical air of disdain hadn’t joined us for dinner. “Dark, light, and gray magics are all outdated studies of the craft. Who is your crone? Empath Gingerfel?”
My throat tightened at hearing my crone’s full name on his lips. I hated that he knew who she was.
“Emp,” Riot repeated with glee. “Oh, the woman makes terrible blueberry muffins. Dry, crumbly things.”
Spade answered. “She over mixes the batter.”
I sucked in a breath, aiming to bury my annoyance. “Regardless of the type of power, you could help me if you wanted to, couldn’t you?”
Spade considered me wordlessly.
Riot filled the silence, as he usually did. “The lies, the lies, the lies. Rat, we happen to know that withers do not steal maidens from your town any longer. At least, not your sister.”
“How do you claim to know that?” I snapped. “How can you know anything from way up here in your onyx towers?”
Spade answered lowly, his scar catching in the light, his dark attire depicting him in a wicked way. “Because we saw to it.”
Confusion wrinkled my brow. “If that is true, which I highly doubt, then it’s all the more reason you should help me—because they did in fact take my sister at her wedding rite.”
“Maybe,” Riot answered. “Her beau just didn’t show, and instead of being mortified, she ran and hid, and you all are mistakenly blaming a monster in the woods.”
“Fuck you.” I tossed my silverware on my plate. “She was grabbed in front of us all, in the middle of her ceremony. The monster was the biggest wither I’ve ever seen.”
“Why didn’t you chase after her?” Spade asked lowly, with no hint of sarcasm, only curiosity, as if he couldn’t help but wonder. Did that mean he was starting to believe me?
“I tried. As soon as I ran for her, my head, my—my—illness. It struck, and I…”
“Wait.” Riot stood, wiping his face and tossing his napkin on the table. “This is the perfect interlude into the show portion of the evening.” He clapped, and six skeletons appeared to clear our plates.
The lights dimmed, fire retreating down the wicks, and a spotlight appeared in the center of the room, directly across from me.
Riot marched to the front and clapped again. “Prepare yourself for a grand performance.”
“What is this?” I asked Spade, who only gave me a long, discerning look before turning to watch his idiotic brother.
A skeleton stood on a table, wearing a white gown, its arms outstretched, as a dozen others sat on the floor.
“Twas the night of Prism Malefic’s wedding rite,” Riot narrated, walking back and forth. “She was to be wed to her lover, who may or may not exist.”
Oh my goddess. It was a play… a play dedicated to my greatest failure.
The day I lost Prism.