Page 88 of Till Death

Sitting back down, I reached for my tea, casting my eyes to the floor. If she needed to think she’d won this, then fine. Because I had other problems.

“Are we done?”

“I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you come?”

“I’ve been trying to find the Life Maiden, and I think that’s a lost cause. I’ve never asked because it would have only been for my father before, but now, I don’t know. I just need to find her.”

“As she is your counterpart, I think something in you probably urges you to seek that balance of power. But there are no traces that I have seen. Just like the missing people.”

I’d almost forgotten about the missing people with everything else going on. Orin had brought them up, as well. And then I remembered that it’d taken me longer to search for a target the time before last. Normally, the magic led me by compulsion because it was nearly sentient and all-knowing. Something within it was also a hunter. But something was wrong. As if the soul had been able to hide.

“The Huntress hasn’t been able to locate them either. And one of them she knows. No one can find them, but someone’s hiding it.”

“Is that why you were with Orin in the Badger Hole?”

A familiar smile of an old friend reached her eyes. “Took you long enough to ask about it.”

“Why wouldn’t you two just tell me you knew each other?”

“Your new husband is a very private person. And I’ve only seen you once since then. There was no time for catching up.”

I sat back on the couch, examining my nails rather than looking her in the eyes. “How do you know him?”

“Requiem is a small realm. We have similar circles, and our concerns are aligned. No one knows where the missing people are going, but I have a suspicion the new king has something to do with it.”

“Do you think the missing people could have something to do with the missing Life Maiden?”

Ro’s slanted eyes narrowed carefully as she studied my blank features. I wondered if she’d realized I had steered this conversation with precision. I no longer cared that she’d been with Orin, but if she thought that was the most important thing, perhaps she wouldn’t be so guarded with other information.

“Here’s what I know. You think everyone is going to find out you don’t kill for sport and won’t be afraid of you. But everyone thinks these missing people are your victims. I’ll admit that even I thought so. Until someone from Misery’s End vanished on a night you were accounted for.”

“So, they’ve been watching what I do, and that’s why they want me to stay there.”

“I think that was maybe the plan at the beginning. But things have changed, and now your husband will not share a single word about you with me.”

“And that’s why you finally let me in.”

“I let you in because we are friends, even if you like to argue and be ridiculous.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the familiar box with my mother’s jewel on the top. “How many flowers do you need, Deyanira?”

I sighed. Conversation over. “I need four.”

This was a terrible idea. The most dangerous of all ideas I’d ever had. But, as the warehouse filled with some of the most beautiful people this world had to offer, I fell in line with them, shuffling into the space as if I belonged there.

Everyone prepping for tonight’s show moved with a purpose, completely unaware of the murderer among them. Women dressed in little more than lace robes sat in a line before the mirrors, applying heavy shades of makeup and gossiping about their boss’s newest recruit. A fierce woman holding a clipboard and barking orders directed everyone with a shrill voice. I knew who it was without needing an introduction. They called her Genevieve. And there wasn’t a person in the house that cared for her. Not even Quill, who’d befriended a monster—several, in fact.

I kept my back to the woman, moving toward the tunnel to gain entrance to the theater without announcing my presence to Drexel if I could help it. I’d borrowed a green velvet gown from Althea’s stash, stole a matching hat from the old man, and had spent the better part of an hour trying to dress appropriately. With my hair tucked and movements no faster than the fifty or so people scrambling about, I blended in well enough.

“That is how it’s meant to be worn. This may not be a brothel, but we have a show to put on.” Hollis’s voice comforted me, even if I didn’t want him to know I was there. He’d been tucked in a corner, tightening a corset on a red-haired woman while arguing with another about his latest masterpiece.

If something didn’t change, that man would live out his final years tied to the Maestro. And though I knew he loved what he did, there was a better life for him. His level of kindness didn’t deserve the entrapment.

Pressed against a back wall, I watched a world I’d never seen before. Quill and Paesha were nowhere to be seen, but I’d kept my eyes glued to Orin as I waited for someone to go down the tunnel. He faced a wall, scribbling frantically onto music sheets, with disheveled hair but dressed in a finely pressed blue suit and boots so shiny I could likely see my reflection. Hollis would allow nothing less.

The aged posters adorning the wall promised shows of grandeur and seduction. Suggestive silhouettes of curvy women in sensual poses had been a common theme amongst them. They drew my attention along the dimly lit space until I found Althea, sitting on a worn-out chaise, studying a giant blueprint of her next contraption, brows knit in concentration, even a pair of goggles on her head.

This was a different world for them. Here, they were different people. The bands on their arms made them servants. But it seemed that they had each found a way to embrace it regardless. The silver lining. Or the perfectly laid trap the Maestro had planned when he’d wrapped them all into contracts.