Page 66

WINNOW

S eraphine lets out a shrill scream as I appear behind her, and the pot of face mask clatters into the sink. She jolts around, eyes wide with terror as she takes in the sight of me.

“Hello.”

In my peripheral vision, I can see my reflection in the mirror and I’m not too modest to admit—after seeing nothing but humans, and being glamoured for the last couple weeks—I look pretty fucking daemonic and I’ve never been prouder for it.

If only I still had my wings.

Seraphine whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them again, and I hear her whisper something about, “... too many fucking mushrooms.”

Narrowing my eyes, I purse my lips, studying her in her frightened state. She doesn’t look nearly as intimidating up close. She looks so very vulnerable.

“I can assure you, you’re not hallucinating.”

The way she proceeds to rapidly blink her eyes as though trying to clear her vision tells me she doesn’t believe me.

I close the distance between us and my tail traces the side of her thigh, making her screech in horror as her trembling hand reaches blindly for a pair of tiny grooming scissors. “Oh, my fuck, fuck, fuck! What are you? A demon?”

My head tips back with a gleeful cackle just as I hear a dull voice call back with a bored, “What?”

“Why yes, actually. How very kind of you to ask.”

Seraphine’s face crumples as fat tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, whatever it is I’ve done, I’m sorry, and I’ll never do it again.”

Liar.

In the next moment, her hand closes around the grooming scissors, and she lashes out with them in a rather sloppy downward arch. My hand latches around the offending wrist, and I twist from the base of her palm. With another unholy screech, the scissors go skittering across the marble floor.

Never in my life have I struck another person.

Until now.

My open right hand comes down on her left cheek with a loud crack.

“That’s for Gideon.”

Clutching her cheek, blood trickles from a corner of her lip as her eyes widen in recognition—even further as I hold up the pink envelope.

“Are you familiar with the concept of Hell, Seraphine?”

Her brows pinch, and her pretty eyes glitter with fearful tears. “Vaguely.”

“I think you and I both know that it isn’t limited to the afterlife, is it?”

She gulps.

My tail finds its way around her throat, and she releases another horrified scream that’s quickly cut off as I tighten my grip on her.

“Which is why I’m going to be kind and give you a verbal warning. You’re going to leave Gideon alone. Forever. No more letters, stalking, no more contact in any capacity. Or I will personally ensure that the current incarnation of your mortal life will come to an abrupt end.”

Tears stream down Seraphine’s face, and for the first time in my life, I find myself entirely immune to someone else’s plight. We’ve both been through hell, and it doesn’t give either of us the excuse to perpetuate the cruelty or chaos.

“Do you understand?”

Seraphine’s expression hardens, but she eventually gives a weak nod, and I remove my tail from her throat. She coughs wildly, wheezing to catch her breath.

Heaving a sigh, I wait for her to recover as I examine my nails for any wayward cuticles.

“Now, convince me that you’re sorry. Make me believe that you’ll never torment another soul, human or otherwise.”

Seraphine rubs at her throat in disbelief.

“But… how?”

Dropping my hand, I straighten, summoning all the imperious, aristocratic poise a duchess such as me should carry, but that I know I never have, I quirk a brow at her.

“Begging sounds like a good place to begin.”

Seraphine’s brows pinch. “I’m sorry?”

Rolling my eyes, my impatience grows. “Liar.”

She’s clearly not scared enough.

My mind summons the image of a fearsome visage as I will a glamour over my features.

A mouthful of sharp teeth, elongated claws, an extra foot in height, exaggerated muscles.

It’s nothing like my true form, but clearly this woman needs some more inspiration.

Seraphine’s jaw unhinges, and her head tips back as my height nears the ceiling.

The feat syphons a little more of my magic, but I’m in too deep to stop now.

My voice takes on an otherworldly timbre–sounding like one and many voices all at once. How I would imagine souls in Hell might wail for mercy from Azrael.

Her eyes are comically rounded, and she lets out an involuntary squeak as my lips part to reveal the many lethal fangs now lining my mouth.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?”

With satisfying swiftness, Seraphine drops to her knees, hands raised in a prayer position, and immediately begins to utter numerous apologies–a great number of which are irrelevant to Gideon–confessing her many sins and begging for forgiveness as she weeps.

Long moments pass, and I find myself growing increasingly impatient.

I could be in bed with Gideon right now.

“Enough.”

Seraphine’s head snaps up, her confession cut short.

However, I still feel like simply begging is not nearly sufficient.

“How about an offering?”

When she hesitates, I run my tongue over my sharpened teeth.

“You know… A life, flesh, blood, that sort of thing.”

I will never forget the particular shade of alabaster that the pallor of her skin turns.

“You’ve got ten fingers. Surely, you don’t need all of them.”

At that, her complexion takes on a blue hue, even beneath the strange orange-y tint on her skin.

I have no intention of actually maiming her, but a little extra encouragement can’t help.

After all, I want her to offer it. Shrinking back down to my normal size, I take her hands in mine and the action makes my fucking skin crawl.

“I’m thinking thumb or ring finger. Do you have a preference?”

She stares at me in wide-eyed horror. “Please, no.”

I drop her hands. “Oh, you do have such lovely eyes. How about one of those?”

Terrified silence.

“No? Surely you can part ways with a few quarts of blood in a ritual sacrifice?”

Seraphine’s gulp is audible. My annoyance and impatience escape me in a groan.

“You know, I’m really trying my best here, Seraphine, and you haven’t offered me a single–

Her words are panicked. Desperate. “My hair. What about my hair?”

My lips curl with wicked delight.

“Fine, but I want every last inch and not a hair less.”

I summon a pair of gilded, ancient-looking scissors into my hand for dramatic effect. Even that proves to be yet another drain on my magic, and I send a silent prayer to Akash that I won’t have to fucking walk back to Gideon’s at this point.

The most sincere tears I’ve seen from Seraphine yet come as she raises her shaky hand and begins to hack away at her long, luscious locks.

I wait for the guilt to hit. For the familiar churn of my gut. It never comes.

As thick swathes of her hair fall to the counter, I only feel the tiniest fragment of retribution. She made Gideon suffer for years. She sought to steal him from me.

Offering me her hair is frankly the least she could do.

As the last tendril of hair falls, heavy footsteps sound in the distance. Quickly willing away the scissors, I will a dress to cover my nude form just before a male, dressed in a fluffy bathrobe and tasseled slippers, rounds the corner of the bathroom door, eyes widening at the sight of me.

“Cool costume… Did you schedule a play date–

Seraphine’s jaw drops.

“You can see her too?!”

His eyes shift to Seraphine’s sheared head and he rears back in horror. She looks a lot like a doll that a child decided to give a haircut to.

“Jesus Christ, Sera. What the fuck did you do to your hair?”

What in the sacred mother of fuck?

This woman has been stalking my man when she already has one of her own?

“I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?”

He looks taken aback, clutching at the lapels of his robe as he huffs.

“Louis Pembroke the Third. Haven’t you heard of me?”

Oh my fucking gods.

My hand closes into a fist and when I throw it, I’m aiming for the fucking furthest point directly beyond his head—his face is just in the fucking way.

Bone crunches beneath my knuckles, and if I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure if it’s my bones or his. Louis spins 360 degrees from where he stands in the doorway on a discarded towel on the polished marble floor.

Louis tumbles backward, clutching at his bleeding nose, and I try my very best to pretend I don’t feel the absolutely insane pain exploding through my hand and wrist.

“Right. I think I’m done here.”

I give a slack-jawed Serpahine one last cursory glance. “See you… never, I pray.”

I summon the vision of Gideon’s home in my mind’s eye as I attempt to fold home.

And nothing happens.

Fuck.

Me.

Heaving a sigh, I rub my brow with my uninjured hand and steel myself for what I know I have to do, and just pray to fucking Akash that it works.

My stomach churns at the idea of having to consume their vile blood, but desperate times, desperate measures.

Feigning an apologetic smile, I bat innocent eyes at Seraphine and Louis, entirely unsure of just how much mortal blood I need to consume to replenish my power to fold.

“I think I’ll be taking that blood sacrifice after all.”