“Look what we found,” the gravelly voice said, yanking the phone from my hands. The screen lit his face from below—the shadowy enforcer Smokey, his features half-hidden in perpetual darkness that moved like living ink. “Trying to call for help? Cute.”
His fist connected with my temple before I could respond. The world exploded into pain, then nothing at all.
Cold water shocked me back to consciousness, rushing up my nose and making me sputter and choke. The hood was gone, but my vision swam, refusing to focus. When it finally cleared, I found myself in what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Moonlight filtered through broken windows, illuminating rusted machinery and graffiti-covered walls.
My arms were wrenched behind me, the rope digging into my wrists. I was seated on a metal chair that bit into my thighs. The rope was coarse—not the silky bindings Kronos used, but something meant to hurt, to restrain by force rather than consent.
“He’s awake.” Granite stepped into my line of sight, massive and imposing in the dim light. The crystalline patterns of his skin caught the moonlight, making him look carved from stone. “Finally.”
A fist slammed into my face, whipping my head back. Blood filled my mouth, hot and coppery. Another blow caught me in the stomach. Pain splintered through my torso, and I would have doubled over if not for the ropes.
“Stop,” I gasped, spitting blood onto the concrete floor. “What do you want?”
He laughed, the sound like rocks grinding together. “Me? I don’t want anything.” Another punch, this one catching my cheekbone and splitting it open. “I just enjoy hurting you.”
Through the ringing in my ears, I tried to focus. “Why? What did I ever do to you?” I coughed, more blood spattering down my shirt. “We rarely spoke when I worked there.”
His massive hand gripped my hair, yanking my head back until I was forced to meet his eyes—cold and hard as the crystals embedded in his skin. “You don’t get it, do you? Before you came along, I was her favorite.”
“The Madam’s?” I stared at him in disbelief. She’d never shown him anything but haughty disdain when I was around. I’m not even sure she knew his name.
“Seven years I was her right hand.” His grip tightened. “Then she found you, with your pretty face and your charm, and suddenly I’m reduced to bodyguard.” He reared back and spit in my face. “You do not know what you threw away. What some of us would kill for?”
Gross, his spit got in my cut. Who knows what that block of rock had in his system?If I made it out of this, I was going to need shots. “Why would anyone want that kind of attention from her? She’s a monster.”
The back of his hand cracked across my face so hard I tasted fresh blood. “Not everyone thinks of this as a bad life,” he snarled. “Most of us chose it. Were happy there. Content.”
“You chose to be her puppet?” I couldn’t keep the disbelief from my voice.
“At least it’s honest work.” His eyes burned with something that looked almost like religious fervor. “The most honest way there is to make a living. You give pleasure, you get paid. Simple.” His expression darkened. “But you treated it like a punishment. Like something shameful. Paraded around like you were better than the rest of us.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it despite everything. “I didn’t realize.”
“Of course you didn’t.” He stepped back, brushing imaginary dust from his knuckles. “Too busy playing victim when the rest of us were just doing our jobs.”
I swallowed more blood, wincing at the raw feeling in my throat. “This isn’t what I’d have chosen for myself if I’d had a choice. And I’ve moved on now.” I looked up at him, trying for sincerity despite my battered face. “Why can’t you just let me go?”
“Because no one leaves before their time is up.” The Madam’s voice sliced through the warehouse like a silk-wrapped blade. She sauntered into view, her hot pink dress almost luminous in the darkness. Every movement was calculated seduction, the air around her shimmering with lotus-eater magic. “It sets a terrible example.”
While they’d been focused on my face, I’d been working at the ropes binding my wrists. The blood from my earlier cuts made the fibers slick, and I could feel them starting to give. I just needed to keep them talking.
“Michelle,” I acknowledged, using her real name instead of her title. A tiny rebellion, but her slight frown showed it hit its mark.
“My darlin’ Will-o’-Wisp.” Her southern accent thickened as she approached, heels clicking on the concrete floor. “How I’ve missed you.” She trailed manicured fingers down my cheek, her touch burning like acid against my skin. Lotus-eater venom, designed to make humans pliant and addicted. My half-fae blood made me resistant, but it still stung.
“Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.” Another twist of my wrists, the rope giving a little more.
She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. “Always so spirited. That’s why you were my favorite.” She glanced at Granite, whose expression didn’t change, though something tightened around his eyes. “But bad boys who disappoint me have to be punished.”
From her clutch purse, shewithdrew a document written on what looked suspiciously like human skin; the letters shimmering with a sickly green glow. “You never terminated your contract, darlin’. Seven years of service, and you’ve barely given me three.
“I don’t owe you anything.” The rope was loose enough now that I could slip one hand free if I dislocated my thumb. It would hurt like hell, but not as much as whatever she had planned.
“I have witnesses who would disagree.” She nodded toward Smokey, who materialized from the shadows, darkness writhing around him like living ink. “Customers who were very disappointed when their favorite performer vanished.” She produced a wickedly sharp pin from her hair. “All I need is your signature. In blood, of course. Then you can come back where you belong, earn your keep like a good boy, and everything will be forgiven.”
She pressed the pin against my lip, drawing a bead of crimson. “Or we can do this the hard way. Your precious Primal won’t find you in time to save you, I’m afraid. My shadow wolves have led him on quite the merry chase through the city.” She smiled, revealing very sharp teeth. “By the time he realizes the trail is false, you’ll be back on stage where you belong. Blissfully unaware.”
“I’d rather die,” I spat.
