Chapter 49
Gaetano
One moment, I’m circling the fires of Hell, about to fall into them. They caress my skin with the gentleness of Nicole’s fingers. After all, what other place could so precisely anticipate our weaknesses?
I am already nothing but pure energy, the magic of the Black Joker—no body, no soul, no heart. Yet the fake promise of Nicole is both the bait and the blaze that lures me in. And the only force driving me forward.
The road to Hell is one-way. Unfortunately, it’s the only place where I can amplify my power enough to destroy Madeline. It will burn me alive, but I’ll take her with me.
The first touch of the flame burns me like Nicole’s kiss. I crave more, so I allow it to draw me into its embrace…
That’s when something grabs me and rips me away from the bliss. I resist, but it’s stronger, dragging me back to the castle I had just said goodbye to.
My magic merges with my drifting soul as they both pierce the body buried beneath the earth.
My heartbeat restores. I register the surroundings through the searing pressure behind my eyelids.
Madeline and the harvests hover like a storm cloud above my grave, but even they can’t drown out the life that courses through my limbs the moment I see Nicole.
She is the light in Death’s cold shadow.
My gaze roams over her face, streaked with dirt and tears, and her bloody hands caked with mud.
She dragged me back into my body before the harvesting was complete.
I hadn’t even known it was possible to stop a harvest that’s begun.
Yet Madeline’s words proved otherwise. What the witch doesn’t know? None of it was planned.
When I emerge from the grave, hope sparks in Nicole’s expression. I brace myself, forcing my body upright, my soul heavy with sorrow. I want to promise her everything will be all right. I won’t be. In my current state, I’m too weak.
“Finish the harvest, Gaetano!” Madeline says.
With legs like lead, I rise and pull Nicole under my arm. The gesture’s meant to shield her, but in truth, she’s the only thing holding me upright. She tucks into my side, bearing the weight of my crumbling frame.
Madeline’s fingers twitch. “Enough, Gaetano. We both know you’re incapable of love. Your only passion has ever been magic.”
I draw Nicole closer, and she presses into me.
Of course, Madeline notices. “If you’re doing this to punish me for the curse—fine. You’ve succeeded. The only reason I haven’t torn her limb from limb is that if I did, you wouldn’t complete your final harvest. And I want you back, Gaetano. The bed’s not the same without you.”
Nicole stiffens under my arm.
“Don’t listen to her,” I whisper into her ear.
Madeline takes a step toward us, glaring at Nicole. “You might be his toy, but he’s mine. Has he told you what perversions he performed just to please me? So I’d let him fuck me in the basement chamber? He ached to touch my power, to feel real magic. The kind he never had the blood to claim.”
A knot tightens in my gut. Some of those memories still remind me of how potent her magic was. And she’s right. I was willing to lick the dirt off her boots for a taste of power. And now I’m willing again—but to save Nicole.
I take a breath and pull my arm away from her. The chill between us slices through me, and I force the next words past the lump in my throat. “You know me well, Madeline. Better than I’d like to admit. You’re right. I staged this entire grand finale to provoke you.”
What I’m about to do is risky. There’s a reason I rejected this plan before. Now, it’s the only option left.
I clench my jaw and add, “I’ll come back to you. But on one condition. Let her leave. I’ll finish the harvest with another soul. After that, I’m all yours.”
“Gaetano, no!” Nicole’s eyes widen with horror. I avert my gaze to prevent myself from unraveling under the weight of her emotion. I pray she doesn’t say anything else, that she doesn’t challenge Madeline.
Madeline fixes her attention on me. “Why do you want to save her?”
I throw a dismissive gesture at Nicole. “Because in five centuries, I’ve never encountered a more desperate creature.
She was willing to kill people, not to save herself, but for love.
It never even occurred to her that a witcher like me could never truly be with a mortal like her.
But you know how it is: ‘Love clouds your judgment, dulls your senses, steals from your magic.’”
My heart darkens with each word, yet I don’t allow myself to look at Nicole. Any sign of emotion on my face could ruin this. And my Baroness is clever; she’ll realize I’m putting on a show and that she needs to play along.
Madeline watches her like a cockroach crawling across her floor, deciding whether to crush it or let it go. One corner of her mouth twitches in disdain. “And why should her stupidity be a reason to grant her life?”
Tension creeps up my spine. “She disgusts me,” I say, “but I also pity her. Besides, is there a worse punishment than living with the knowledge that you helped send ten people to their deaths for someone who doesn’t give a fuck about you?”
Madeline shakes her head. “I can’t tell—are you an altruist, or just cruel?
Either way, I pity that woman. Mortals never cease to amaze me with their delusions of importance.
Every sheep in the flock thinks it’s more special than the others.
” She directs her attention to Nicole, arching an eyebrow in quiet triumph, her voice a velvet blade: “The wolf doesn’t fall in love with the sheep, darling. It only eats them.”
This time, I can’t help but look. I see the moment her words reach Nicole, settle in her mind, and change her expression. Her eyebrows knit together. Please, don’t break, my Baroness. Her hand drops to her thigh… and pauses on the sheath of the dagger.
My knees almost give out. It’s the dagger I took from my first harvest—with Madeline’s blessing. If she recognizes it…
So far, the witch hasn’t noticed it. Maybe she won’t realize—
Her eyes follow Nicole’s fingers… And land on the blade.
Shit.
Madeline’s fingers twitch in the air. The strap on Nicole’s thigh snaps with a whip-like sound. The dagger cuts a straight line through the air and lands in Madeline’s hand.
Nicole lunges forward as if to chase it, but then stops herself. Her hands curl into fists, nostrils flaring.
Madeline examines the blade with a calmness that unnerves me. “You gave your most desperate harvest a dagger?”
I shrug. “She had to dig me out somehow, didn’t she?”
Madeline flips the blade over. My heart lodges in my throat. She knows damn well that a witcher like me would never surrender his only magically charged artifact to someone he didn’t care about. He’d keep it to drain any remaining magic if his power ever faltered.
When she examines the engraving, I know we’re fucked. Another thing a black witcher would never do for a mortal he didn’t care about? Defile a magical artifact with a sentimental inscription.
The air vibrates. The harvests scatter across the graveyard like a startled flock of birds. My own magic shoots into my fingertips.
“Gaetano, Gaetano…” Madeline murmurs, still staring at the dagger.
The blade flies through the air like a bullet, aimed straight at Nicole. I throw myself in its way, catching it with my body. It cuts through my shoulder and lodges in the muscle. Pain erupts down my whole arm. “Stay behind me!” I shout.
Nicole’s ragged breath brushes against my back as she presses herself close. Her fingers skim my skin—soft and brief, yet warm enough to boost my resolve.
I grit my teeth and grab the dagger’s hilt, pulling it free. The scent of my blood floods my senses.
As the blade hits the ground with a quiet clink, a fresh jolt of electricity rushes down my spine. It seeps beneath my skin, slips into my bloodstream, and races toward my cells…
Madeline’s specialty. Paralytic magic.
She used it on me five centuries ago. This time, I recognize the signs right away.
“Hold on to me!” I bark over my shoulder.
Nicole clutches my ribs. I conceal us behind an invisible veil and shift us sideways, leaving an illusion of us both in our original positions. Madeline’s magic strikes the false image dead-on. I try to teleport us out of the castle, but the air hums with static—some kind of confinement spell.
Nicole’s still a harvest, damn it. I should be able to leave. I should be able to…
As I struggle to break through Madeline’s protections, it hits me: Nicole is still a harvest. Our contract remains active, and its deadline is midnight.
I don’t know how many minutes are left, but if we don’t complete the harvest on time, we’ll both face the consequences of a broken magical pact.
I scatter multiple illusions of Nicole and myself across the graveyard. Madeline blasts a few, but she can’t hit them all. Still, if we keep this up much longer, I’ll burn through the last of my magic.
“What do we do?” Nicole whispers behind me, her palm grazing just above the dagger wound.
I cover her hand with mine. “We get out.” Pain grips my chest. It’s a lie. I have no idea what we’re doing.
A few steps away, Madeline suddenly pulls back her magic.
The air feels lighter, as if cleansed. Then she does the most unusual thing: she picks up the dagger from the ground and slices it across her palm, leaving a deep red line beneath the blade.
Clenching her fist, she allows the blood to drip onto her finger.
She glances at the illusions I’ve set up like sentinels around her. Her lips curl as her voice echoes over the graveyard, “I summon you, Black Joker, wanderer of shadows and whisper in the void. Come forth from the darkness and hear my wish.”
Nicole’s fingers dig into my skin. “What is she doing?!”
The curse’s threads start to twist through my soul, binding around my bones and gradually stretching toward Madeline. Warm liquid runs down my cheek. I wipe it away and see the bloodstained tear smear across my dirty thumb.
Panic rushes through my chest as a bridge forms between me and the witch. One that can’t be burned.
“She’s summoning me…”
“You have two choices, Gaetano!” Madeline’s voice cuts through the silence. “Keep running like a coward. Midnight is minutes away. If you haven’t claimed your little bitch’s soul by then, you’ll both suffer the penalty for a broken contract.”
Nicole trembles behind me. Her arms wrap around my waist.
“Or, face me! Defeat me in three trials and earn the accolades you always thought you deserved. Only…” Madeline turns in place, scanning the illusions. “I’m willing to bet my soul you’re still worthless.”
“You can beat her,” Nicole whispers.
I shake my head. I can’t. And Madeline knows it. She’s the creator of this game.
A massive shadow stretches over the graveyard, cast by an enormous cloud that twists and churns like smoke gathering purpose.
Within moments, the shape of the cloud shifts until it forms the unmistakable silhouette of a clock face.
Its surface vibrates with a spectral glow, and the hands, sharp as razors, snap into place: one pointing straight up, the other horizontal. 11:41 PM.
My chest tightens under the heavy, dry air. Fear crawls over my skin and runs like ice down my spine.
If I don’t take a stand against her, I’ll lose Nicole.
If I face Madeline… I’ll lose Nicole.
“You can beat her,” Nicole whispers again.
Tears, mud, and blood cover her features, yet the fire in her eyes, the fierce defiance of my Little Baroness, still burns. There are a million things I want to say to her, but I don’t have the time.
So I kiss her. “Promise me you’ll stay under cover.”
She doesn’t promise anything, and I’m too desperate to wait for her word.
I reinforce the veil around her with more of my magic, allowing her to see through it, while ensuring she can neither speak nor move past it. She’ll be furious once she realizes what I’ve done. Still, it’s the only way I can stay focused as I face Madeline.
Then I teleport.