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GEMINI

T here’s nothing like the tickle of a secret slithering into my ear, ready to be devoured and consumed to put me in the most delectable of moods.

It’s the final day of Tithe Season, and this time, the last day falls on a Wednesday— my day. Tithing began at high noon as my faithful followers lined up next to the carousel inside Pandaemonium.

Secrets hold a weightier importance this winter solstice than any Tithe Season that came before. I’ve been particularly famished for my followers’ secrets, knowing that one of them was bound to let slip who was behind the attack at the inauguration. And earlier today, I pulled the secret right out of a little waif of a thing. I now know who tried to kill us, and I didn’t have to lift a single finger. I thanked my follower for their loyalty with a long kiss on the lips before having them forcibly removed—I’ll have fun with them with Constantine later—and quickly relayed the information to Wolfgang.

I’m one merry servant of the god of trickery.

Hours later, the single file still disappears through the door leading into the underground tunnel, connecting my casino with the Pravitian harbor. I stopped the carousel for the occasion. Sitting on one of the winged horses, I face my audience while, one by one, they step onto the platform and whisper their secret into my ear.

There is no such thing as an inconsequential secret. I love them all. Each and every one of them is wickedly exciting and wonderfully important, no matter the size.

One never knows when the most anodyne of information will come of use.

Gossip is a powerful thing.

For my special day, I’ve kept my hair blond and donned a simple white silk shirt, loosely tucked into black leather pants. I dressed my Veil in a leather baby-doll dress to match and set her down next to the carousel in a large chair that resembles a throne more than mundane furniture. This time, I chose not to have her on a leash, instead cuffing her ankle to the chair.

To avoid any unnecessary fuss, I detained her roommates for the day so they wouldn’t find Veil here and make a public stink. This is my day after all.

It’s been nearly two weeks since I first plucked Veil from the crowd.

And yet she remains a mystery. An effervescent piece of her keeps escaping me, always just out of sight. I don’t believe she knows she’s hiding something from me. But she is.

Bringing her to the bacchanal was a test. I was curious to see how she would respond to such excess. And just like I’d suspected, she wasn’t affected like the revelers around her. This only solidified my developing theory.

Well …

Maybe she wasn’t affected by the decadent whims of the god of excess, but there was no denying how I made her feel.

And, oh …

I wish I could have tasted the lie on her tongue. Although there was not a word spoken between us, I could see it. The way her body responded to watching me receive pleasure—she couldn’t hide it. The flush. The squeeze of her thighs. The widening of her pupils.

Seeing her struggle …

Fighting it …

It made me crave her that much more.

I could have her. Of course I could have her.

Nothing is stopping me from taking what’s already mine. But where is the gratification in that? I’d rather bide my time. Like a deadly spider, I patiently wait, weaving a sticky web around her, until she inevitably comes to me of her own accord.

I’ve taken her.

Yet I haven’t caught her.

But the day she begs for me to touch her, begs to touch me in the dead of night … oh, that’s when I will have caught her. That’s when I will have truly won this game of ours.

In between two followers, I sneak a glance at her in the mirror on the opposite wall from where she sits. I laugh under my breath, then snap to a passing employee to bring me a fresh coupe of champagne.

Veil doesn’t realize that I can surveil her from this angle. And for the past hour, I’ve been observing her. Studying exactly how she would walk right into my trap.

Although she has been acting rather docile since the first day I took her, I suspect she’d try to escape, if given the chance.

And today, I have given her the chance.

Tricked her, like I do best.

When I cuffed her to the leg of the chair, I feigned putting the key in my pocket. Instead, I let it drop to the floor, close enough for her to snatch up, but just far enough that it would take a bit of orchestration for her to reach it. I also instructed my guards not to intercept her if she did try to leave her chair.

I knew my petty little thief would rise to the challenge.

She must be running on blind optimism and naivete to think I wouldn’t notice.

Especially with the surprising way she bent her body to even retrieve the damn thing.

In the mirror, I watch her pin her attention on me as she tries to inconspicuously unlock the cuff. She appears nervous and fumbles with the key; still, she’s swift. And I pretend to be oblivious, sipping my champagne and signaling to the next person to step up onto the platform.

I wait.

I collect a secret.

Until …

Shoving whoever last spilled their secret, I step off the horse and fling my coupe to the ground before strutting down the carousel.

Veil is already a ways ahead, slipping through the crowd like a silverfish. I keep an unhurried pace and wait for the satisfying moment when she looks over her shoulder and finally notices me. I smile wide and give her a taunting wave of my fingers. Her eyes widen as panic splashes over her face like a bucket of cold water.

Silly rabbit tries to run, and sizzling arousal licks up my body. Visions of me chasing her through the maze enlivens every nerve ending in my body. Gods, how I would love to re-create that fateful night.

I run after her, slamming the doors open that she tried to shut behind her. Her frightened breaths fill the dark corridor, and my manic laugh floats up in the air with it. It only takes me a few more quick strides to snatch her by the arm.

She shrieks, “Let go of me!”

I chuckle darkly as I try to wrangle her into my arms. “You should come up with something new next time. Let go of me is beginning to feel stale — don’t you think?”

“I’ll kill you!” she screams, and even then, I can tell she doesn’t believe the words that just flew out of her mouth.

My laugh grows menacing. Taunting.

“We can workshop it when we get home, love,” I say with a soft grunt as I try to pin her to the wall, but she’s fighting a lot harder than the two previous times. Must be all the food I’ve been feeding her.

It’s then I feel it.

Like a cold vacuum through my senses.

I’m suddenly weakened.

And everything grows dull.