Chapter 42
Cat
My ears burned when I realised we’d had an audience of spirits, all of them gathered at the edge of the courtyard by the gates and the failsafe stone that had summoned them to the domain.
Where they’d watched my mates fuck me into oblivion, like the spirits had watched Miz fuck me against the window months ago.
Pain tucked me into his side, his lips against my head. “Would you like my shadows to gouge out their eyes for what they saw?”
I leaned my head on his shoulder, a smile on my face. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like Madde.”
His voice dropped into a wicked purr. “I’m only just getting started. My maniac tendencies can reach levels Madness has never heard of.”
My smile grew, sharpened. Delighted, I replied, “Tell me more, darling Pain.”
“Oh, I like that.” A shadow wound around my ankle and climbed to my knee. “Should I be calling you darling Judgement, though?”
“Call me whatever you like.” I turned my face to kiss his jaw, slowly sifting through my memories of him, holding my favourites close.
“Hm. Then I think I’ll call you my darling good girl who comes so prettily on my cock.”
“Pain!” I shot a look at the crowd of spirits the rest of my husbands were sorting out, distributing throughout the domain. “What if they can hear you?”
“Then they’ll know how perfect my wife is. I can live with that. Unless you’d like me to sever their ears for overhearing—”
“Stop with the severing,” I groaned.
“Why?” he teased. “Because it’s turning you on again.”
“No,” I scoffed.1
“Okay, pretty boy,” Madde called, jogging over to us. “We’ve come to a decision.”
“Uh.” Pain’s expression was startled. “I didn’t realise you were discussing my fate.”
“Yup,” Madde confirmed casually. “But we’ve decided you’re too cute to imprison, so we’ll let you stay. Also, I personally think our wife would go all murder-spree-levels-of-violence on us if we tried to take you away from her.”
“Correct,” I said tightly, feeling ultra protective over Pain.
“But with Violence having a direct line to your noggin,” Madde went on, “you’re too big a risk.
So we’re going to bind your hands. Not in a kinky way,” he added quickly.
“Unless you want to attack Violence while sporting a boner, in which case I will not judge. Live and let live is my motto, so do your thang.”
It was extremely difficult to stay annoyed at Madde when he was so funny, but I tried to press my mouth into a flat line to ward off the smile, holding onto my protectiveness of Pain. “We’re not handcuffing Pain,” I said with a note of finality.
“No, he’s right,” Pain sighed, running fingers through his mousy curls. “Violence never took control of me, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use my heart to do worse things than make me snitch.”
“I don’t like it,” I muttered, sullen. But what I disliked even more was that Violence had this control over Pain. I reached up to touch his face, brushing my thumb over a small mole under his eye. “But if you’re okay with it, I’ll have to be, too.”
Pink spread across Pain’s cheeks, his pleasure written on his face even before his eyes softened and a smile curved his lips. “I love you, and I love that you’re in my corner no matter what happens. It’s mutual, in case that wasn’t obvious.”
“It was,” I assured him, aware my voice had become gentle and quiet. “Alright, Madde, tie him up but not too tightly.”
“I know how to shibari a dude,” Madde scoffed, which raised a million different questions and transformed the pink across Pain’s cheeks to red.
“I don’t know what that is,” Pain muttered.
“Your blush would suggest otherwise,” Tor snarked, joining us and clapping Pain on the shoulder. “It won’t be forever. Just until we’ve dealt with this prick and we know he can’t compel you.”
“We’ll get your heart back,” I promised Pain, leaning close to kiss him as Madde wrapped Pain’s joined hands in a length of shadow in lieu of rope. “We’ll—”
The pen clasped to my chest flashed suddenly red hot and I gasped, startling back.
“Cat?” Tor demanded, grabbing my arm.
The second my fingers met the burning gold, the courtyard tore away and I blinked through the darkness to see the twisted topiaries and pale statues that stood stalwart over the grounds of Cruelty’s manor.
I hissed through my teeth at the sight of this vile place, glaring at the full moon that crept out from behind a cloud and bathed the lawn in silver light.
“I fucking hate this place,” Tor said, making me jump so hard I almost fell over.
“Tor!” I realised he still held my arm, and I covered his hand with mine. “You’re here.”
“Why are we here, Cat?” He frowned. “Matter of fact, how the fuck did we get here?”
“I think—” I began.
“I brought her here,” Rosalind interrupted, moving towards us in that floating, not-quite-walking way. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders like silk, her face as beautiful as it was irritated. “How did you get here, Torment?” Her expression slackened. “Could you bring my brother?”
“Next time,” I promised, pulling up a smile even though this place brought back so many memories. None of them were good memories. “Why did you bring us here, Rosalind? I found your sister; I think she’ll help us.”
Rosalind came close enough, her hands lifted, that she could have clasped my hands in hers—if hers weren’t spectral.
“Thank you for finding Joanna. If anyone can save my niece from Violence, she can. But Violence has gone to ground, and I don’t trust him.
He planned to ambush you at Death’s castle, but he saw Joanna and spooked. He’s afraid of her.”
“That’s good news?” I said with a frown at her tone.
“Bad news,” Tor corrected. “He’s even worse when he feels cornered.”
“You need to take the fight to him before he can put his plan in place,” Rosalind said, her eyes pinched with worry. “I don’t know where he’s hiding, but I know someone who does.”
“Why do I get the feeling we’re not going to like this?” I muttered, linking my fingers with Tor’s, trying to ignore that we stood in the garden where Cruelty mind-fucked me, and pushed me to master my creature.
“Nightmare’s disciples worked for Cruelty, but one followed Violence’s orders.”
“Alastair,” I spat.
“No.” Rosalind’s face shone in the moonlight, her eyes heavy with seriousness. “Wilfrith Riggs.”
“Wil?” I demanded, teeth bared and sharp, my creature surging to the surface. “The traitor who lied to my face? The bastard I thought was my friend? I’m not going to him for help.”
Wil pretended to be my friend right up to the end, when he shoved me off a square on the chessboard and onto the square that tormented me with claustrophobic visions of the mirrored room, the corridor of locked doors, and that fairy glade full of trees and keys that refused to open locks to free me.
If Darya hadn’t helped me, I might still be trapped there.
So fuck no, we weren’t going to Wil for help.
But if we didn’t… I sighed. Heavily. Violence would get all the power from the domain, and there was no hope of saving Death.
“He’s the only person alive or dead who’ll know where to find Violence,” Rosalind said apologetically. “I can search for the god, and I will, but it could take weeks, maybe even months.”
“We’ll find the fucker,” Tor agreed, earning a scowl from me. “He can tell us where to find Violence, and then we’ll wipe him off the face of this earth.”
I knew I wore every bit of love I felt for my husband on my face. It overflowed my heart until my whole chest ached with it. “We find him,” I agreed. “And then we smite the bastard from existence.”
“So brutal,” Tor said in a purr, not caring that Miz’s sister watched us.
I gave him a chiding look, but the half-smile fell from my face when something reached into my chest and tugged hard. Like a tow line wrapped around my rib, pulling me out of the vision.
“We have to go,” I said urgently. “Sorry, Rosalind. Use the pen to speak to me again if you find Violence. I’ll try to bring Miz next time—”
The tug came with more insistence, and when I stumbled forward, it was in the courtyard of Death’s castle. Miz caught Tor as he tripped forward, and Madde’s arms flung around my middle, squeezing tight.
“We need to find Wil,” I said before I could lose my nerve. “Death, where would his spirit have gone?”
“We have bigger problems than that, little bride,” he said apologetically, hidden within the hood of his robe.
“This came,” Pain said, sending a scrap of paper on a tendril of shadow. My heart caught in my throat, but it wasn’t a dark green envelope.
Back stiff, I took the paper and read it. My stomach coiled and twisted. It wasn’t from Violence; it was from Orwell.
I need your help. The mirror at Ford is fucked and magic is seeping out of it. Students have gone apeshit. Villagers are turning on each other. If you don’t get here soon, they’re gonna kill us all.