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I open my mouth. “DE—!”

His eyes narrow on my lips, and my voice cuts off, my shout now silent.

I clutch my throat. “What have you … ?” I might as well be mouthing the words, my vocal cords are no longer producing any sound.

“Your colleague, Ms. Darling, said you were busy, but it doesn’t look like you’re busy.”

The client who’s been pestering me.

I continue backing up, my eyes darting to the house.

He smiles, and it’s like he invented the act of smiling, it’s so blindingly bright. “He’s not going to save you.”

The man disappears. A moment later his arms lock around me as he grabs me from behind.

I go hellcat on him, kicking out, my hands scratching at anything I can reach. I scream and scream, uncaring that my voice has been muted.

“Enough,” he breathes.

Magic slams into me, and the world goes dark.

Chapter 25

My eyes flutteropen, and I rub my head, my mind groggy. Above me is a roughhewn rock ceiling. Sitting up, I glance down my body. I’m no longer wearing my outfit from this morning. Instead I’m sheathed in a wispy copper colored dress, the edges of it embroidered into intricate, shimmery patterns.

Don’t remember changing …

I shiver. I’m cold. Really, really cold.

I look around. Three rock walls surround me. And the fourth …

The fourth is a wall of iron bars.

Imprisoned. But where? Why?

I roll off the pallet I woke on. In the corner of the room, there’s what I would indulgently call a toilet. More like a bowl set into the ground.

Scratched onto the wall nearest me are tally marks. Dozens and dozens of them. None are slashed through, and I can’t decide if that’s because the last prisoner intentionally tallied the days this way… or if several separate prisoners began tallying and never made it past four.

I notice the bastard that took me is nowhere to be seen. Was he the Thief of Souls, or someone else entirely? He never even attempted to explain himself or his motives.

I make my way to the front of my cell, ignoring the sour taste at the back of my throat—the taste of residual magic. My eyes are fixated on the sight across from me.

A cavern of prison cells are cut into the shale. Row after row, level after level. They extend as far as I can see in all directions—up, down, left, right.

Inside each is a woman dressed similarly to me.

Goosebumps break out along my skin.

It looks just like my vision.

Are these the missing women?

If so, then I’m totally fucked. Des hasn’t figured the mystery out and it’s been ongoing for nearly a decade. I’m not holding my breath that that’ll change simply because I’m here.

WhereisDes? What must he think?

“Hello?” I call out.