When he yanked her closer, raising his club, Lanthe muttered, "Leave him be for now, witch. Ruby waits for you to return, asks for you."

And now I can't take her home, can't break Malkom out. "You'll beg me to kill you, will plead for your own death," Carrow continued. "In time, you'll tell me who you love, so I can cut them open, too. It's as good as done. You might as well gut them yourself."

He swung his club at her face; the ground came rushing at her....

Chapter 27

Consciousness came slowly. After who knew how much time had passed, Carrow woke, cataloging her new injury. Her face was still throbbing from Fegley's hit. Can't have been out that long.

She cracked open her eyes to find herself laid out on the bottom bunk in her old cell, with Ruby gazing down at her. "Crow!"

Carrow struggled to wrap her arms around the girl. "Ruby, sweetheart."

"I missed you!"

"I missed you, too."

"What happened to your face, Crow? Why aren't we leaving? Aren't we going home?"

With effort, Carrow rose to a sitting position, wincing in pain. "They lied, Ruby."

"Lied?" The girl's irises shimmered ominously.

"Doesn't mean we'll be here forever. We'll escape, I promise you." Carrow glanced over the girl's head to the bunk across from them, where two new Sorceri females sat. Carrow recognized the pair from the file the House of Witches kept, the file of evil Sorceri to be assassinated at will.

Emberine, the "ueen of Flames, and Portia, the "ueen of Stone, partners - and rumored to be lovers - for centuries.

The two were unmistakable. Portia's pale yellow hair was short with black-tipped spikes that defied gravity. Emberine's unruly mane was plaited in the wild Sorceri style, some of the thick braids a brazen titian red, some black. Her metal breastplate was engraved with an image of flames.

Without taking her gaze off them, Carrow asked Lanthe, "What are they doing in here?"

Between the two "ueens, they could manipulate fire and rock as no others on earth. It was said that Ember had the power of a hundred fire demons, could actually turn herself into a flame. Portia was rumored to be able to move mountains, literally. They used their vast powers mainly for indiscriminate, wholesale carnage.

"They've only been here two days," Lanthe answered, not seeming to like the new additions any more than Carrow did. "We're sort of filling up to capacity around here."

"Yes, we're imprisoned by mortals," Emberine said. "How mortifying." They tittered.

Portia added, "Which has given us plenty of time to bond with little Ruby. What were we talking about just yesterday? Ah, yes, how the House of Bitches can't handle your power."

Ember opened her arms. "Ruby, come sit on Auntie Ember's lap. As you often like to do."

When Carrow's fingers tightened on her shoulder, Ruby frowned up at her.

Portia pointed at Carrow's face. "Nice shiner. It goes with your skirt."

Carrow shot the two killing looks. "I've had a day. Do not screw with me." And Fegley's clubbing was merely icing on the cake she'd baked.

She'd betrayed a demon male who hadn't deserved it. The look in his eyes. Too late, he'd grasped the power of their weapons. ...

"Oh, yes, you got double-crossed by the Order," Portia said.

Ember added, "You didn't have to be an oracle to see that one coming."

Once Carrow had finally gotten Ruby to sleep and the Sorceri had turned in, Carrow and Lanthe sat with their backs against the wall - again, fitting - watching for any traffic in the ward.

"How was Ruby?" Carrow asked.

"Each night she awakens, still confused about where she is and why her mother isn't here. Each time when she remembers, she cries herself to sleep. She also cried for you."

Carrow exhaled. "I don't know how she won't be messed up after all this."

"I experienced much worse at the same age. I saw my parents' decapitated bodies, saw my sister get her throat slit. And look how wonderfully Sabine and I both turned out."

"Sabine and wonderful?" Sabine was one of the most feared Sorceri in the Lore. She was the "ueen of Illusions, could make her victims see anything she chose, could delve into a person's brain and make their nightmares appear to come to life. Her powers were legion, her vanity nearly as extensive. "Going to need a minute, or a millennium, to try to match those up."

Lanthe eyed her. "So do you want to tell me what went on out there?"

"It started with a ghoul attack," Carrow began, and went on to relate almost everything. Knowing they were being recorded, she left out a few of the intimate details, but she did find herself admitting, "Lanthe, he might have been ... the one."

"You clearly were for him. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the way he looked at you."

"After a few mishaps, he was tender and generous with me. And if anything threatened me, he'd destroy it with a viciousness you'd marvel at."

"Tender to you and vicious to others? He sounds like the perfect male."

"He was." Within that mine, Malkom had been a golden-haired virility god who was both rough and gentle, and determined to pleasure her, to please her in all ways. Outside in Oblivion, he'd been her protector, ready to sacrifice himself for her.

That male was gone, replaced by a seething Scarba who'd looked like he wanted her heart on a platter.

And who might have murdered his own mother. That tidbit hadn't been in the dossier. And still Carrow thought, If he did it, then the demoness must've had it coming.

Lanthe studied her face. "If he was perfect for you before, he no longer is now. You have to get him out of your head, have to move on. You heard him, he wants to kill you. I know this well - there are some things males can't forgive, even of their mates."

"Like Thronos?"

Lanthe shrugged. "Even if you got a chance to tell the demon why you did it, he might just punish Ruby as well, including her in his revenge. He is still a Trothan demon at heart, after all."

"You're right." Carrow hadn't thought about that. "He can't know about her."

"Why did you let yourself come to care for the demon when you knew how this would end?"

"It just happened." She'd already been teetering on the brink when he'd gazed down at her and called her "wife." The pride in his expression had pushed her over the edge. Carrow was a woman not accustomed to being cherished, and he'd made her feel that way, every minute of the day.

"The Order must have known you'd be his," Lanthe said. "I'm becoming more and more convinced they have an immortal informant, a soothsayer able to direct them."




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