Page 67 of The Fulbourn: Pitch & Sickle

‘Be done with this posturing, sorceress,’ Silas said. ‘You are boring us all with your ceaseless chatter. Do what you intend.’

There was a pointed silence. Macha returned to her elbows-to-knees stance and steepled her gloved fingers. ‘My, my look at you, Mr Mercer. All hot and bothered. Anyone would think you cared. Did the daemon get what he wanted, then? I’ve been told our friend stood right to attention at the thought of fucking you.’ She glanced over her shoulder to where the shadows swayed. It was evident she looked to someone there, her rising smirk turning Silas’s stomach. ‘Which, I’m also reliably informed, was ever so useful when it came to riding him –’

‘Enough.’ Silas wasn’t even sure the voice that left him was his, it bulged with acrimony and wrath. His blind rage gave him the false belief he could get to his feet. He lurched up, his view crimson, his strength testing the binds. The crack at his shoulder came with a blinding flash of pain, the wrench of a joint pulled from its socket. The end to his show of temper was rather humiliating, a topple onto his backside that jolted a grunt from his lungs, his shoulder throbbing.

‘Gods, stay still, you moron,’ Pitch hissed. ‘If her words alone can send you this mad, then you are lost.’

Silas was far from lost. Certainly not mad. He was very, very clear about what he wished to do to Macha and her words. The pain stemming from his dislocated shoulder was eye-watering, yet his head had never felt clearer.

‘Don’t ruin the fun,’ Macha said. ‘I’m enjoying this show very much.’ She made a theatre of her shuddering. ‘I do pity you a little though, Mr Astaroth. For the incubus in you. How tiresome it must be to be ruled by carnal pleasures. All that exchange of bodily fluid and rubbing of bits really does nothing for me. The grunting alone makes me gag. It is tiring and messy and left me feeling quite disgusted when I tried it.’

‘Perhaps you should have chosen somewhere other than a pigpen for it, then.’ Pitch was smooth and icy as a winter pond. ‘Leave the swine be, and see if you can fool a man or woman into having you.’

Macha did not hesitate to roar with laughter. ‘It is a pity you are on the wrong side of this. You are ever so amusing.’ She poked a finger beneath the feathering of her mask, evidently wiping at a tear. ‘No pigs or people for me. Fucking makes me feel quite wretched. But shall we get back to you?’

‘I don’t see any reason why not,’ Pitch returned. ‘I can regale you with all my fornicating forays if you’d like, though we will be here awhile. Do you have time?’

The Dullahan’s horse pawed at the floorboards, violent grabs at the wood that should have made a scratch at the very least, but not a single mark appeared.

‘Well, I do. But regretfully, you do not. Palatyne is dealing with final touches to the Sanctuary, and your accommodations will be completed very shortly.’

Pitch sagged against his restraints. And a trickle of despair ran through Silas. He knew what a Sanctuary was capable of. And learned it in places built by allies. Who knew what horrors lay within a Sanctuary constructed by an enemy?

‘Palatyne has a very particular skill of which you will become acquainted with very shortly. Do you not appreciate the work done here already?’ Macha’s delight was like mould sullying a piece of fruit. She spread her arms, indicating the entirety of the ballroom. ‘I fear you do not. This is where we first laid eyes upon you, Mr Mercer. Watched you danced so very poorly, upon so many feet. We’d heard the Order were to be guests of honour at the marquess’s ball, and we do like to keep or eyes on the Lady’s bunch. Didn’t expect the air elemental to show up with a new acquisition upon her arm.’

Silas gazed with fresh horror upon the surrounds, seeing now how the chandeliers might resemble the ones at the Marquess of Ailsa’s ball, but far more sickened at the notion that he’d been watched from the very beginning.

Macha propped one foot upon her chair, watching him over the top of her knee. ‘I doubt you would have noticed the exquisite satsuma plate displayed upon the wall.’ She waved her hand towards the ballroom’s left-hand wall. ‘Somewhere about there I think. Always handy to have a tsukumogami in place to keep an eye on the Order’s comings and goings, but you seemed rather dull for too much attention. More fool us, hey?’ She did an odd little shudder and whipped her gaze to Pitch. ‘I don’t suppose you will just tell me what it is about the purebred that has you trotting up here all on your lonesome?’

Pitch copied the tilt of her head. ‘He was a very good fuck. Flexibility like you wouldn’t believe. I had hoped to find him sane enough to take back into my bed.’

She exhaled with a hum, dropping her foot back to the ground. ‘The ankou disappoints you, then? After all you’ve done for him?’

‘He has no predilection for cock.’

‘Very sad for you, indeed.’

The grins they traded were inches from becoming snarls.

‘Intensely.’

‘Do I waste my breath asking again what it is you want with Edward Charters?’

‘You do.’

Macha played with one of the feathers that splayed out from her mask. ‘Very well. You may feel differently later on. And I can always wake Eddie to ask him directly.’

‘If you wish to hear the ramblings of a lunatic, go ahead.’

The sorceress tugged the feather, pulling it loose. ‘Oh I very much do.’

Silas had the sense of being amongst two powerful serpents, who were each coiling around one another, searching for a weakness at which to strike. To give her her due, Macha was impressively calm in the company of the daemon, considering what she knew of his skills.

‘So, let’s return to you then, Mr Mercer.’ She cocked her head, reminding Silas of the raven that had perched upon her sister’s shoulder at the greensward. ‘We had thought Mr Charters rather a long shot, I’ll be honest, despite the connections. He’s such a bruised chap, full of gaping holes, and really is quite mad. His need to be here is legitimate. I wasn’t sure he was worth the bed. We could watch him well enough in London. But then we noticed a new face among our patients. He might have stayed hidden if he did not insist on sneaking down to visit Mr Charters at every available moment. You know who I mean of course. The lad in the straitjacket…Charlie? Is that not the creature’s name?’

Silas curled his fists, very aware that Pitch was sending daggers his way, daring him to be stupid enough to allow Macha’s taunts to anger him again. It was so very tempting.

‘The lad has no part in all this…’ Silas formed the words as calmly as the maelstrom within would allow. ‘Let him go.’