Page 96 of Till Death

“The next night was the same, but I was hunting you, too. When you showed up twice, his fate was sealed. I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe for hours. He’d held me in his arms and promised me it wasn’t him. I’d still gone to Drexel. And in my distraught mind, I’d forgotten to measure each of his words. He’d agreed to help me if I would bind myself to him for the rest of my hundred years. He said he would try to find a way to stop the Death Maiden.” She forced a laugh past sad eyes, never really looking at me, but each word had taken her further and further into a memory that would have her dancing with his ghost, as the others had called it.

“Paesha,” I whispered, trying to bring her back to this moment.

But she was too far gone. Too fragile. “His attempt was half-assed, and it didn’t matter. I had three more days with Ezra before you snuck into his place and killed him in his sleep.”

Every breath into my lungs hurt. Every inch of my skin, red with embarrassment and shame. It wasn’t enough that he’d died. Not enough that I’d been his murderer. I’d even had a hand in her imprisonment to the monster. “If I could?—”

“I know, Maiden. You don’t have to apologize again.”

I stood, grabbing her arm firmly. “If ever I was going to question my sanity in this bargain, I take it back right now. I owe you this. I won’t let us down.”

“Ready?” Quill stood in the door to the kitchen, her perfect soft blue dress trimmed in white lace, painting her into a picture of innocence.

“Don’t let her down,” Paesha answered. “She’s the future, and she’s important.”

“I don’t think I’m wearing it right,” I said from behind the curtain as Hollis’s stomping boots gave away his pacing back and forth in a quiet corner of the theater’s warehouse, opening and closing his pocket watch as if by habit alone.

“You’re not meant to fight in it, Little Dove. You’re to seduce. Consider your end goal.”

And though his presence was typically calming, there was nothing comforting in this tragedy of a contraption. “If my end goal was to embed rubies into my asshole, I think we’ve made it.”

“May I see?”

“My jeweled asshole? If you must. But I can’t walk.”

He whipped the curtain away and glared at me. “I would never design something that would incapacitate you. Oh! Good gods, you’ve put it on sideways. Do you not see the clasps? Who taught you to dress?”

I returned the scowl. “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t Lady Visha.”

“No doubt about that.” He chuckled, pulling his brimmed hat from his head, revealing the waves of silver locks. “At least you got the heels on right. Might I help you?”

“I think you’re going to have to.”

Several minutes later, he stepped away, wrinkled hands clasped to his chest. “It’s the most stunning piece I’ve ever created. Turn.”

I spun as instructed, lifting my hands so he could examine the rubies covering my skin in clusters, only in the most important parts, strung together by invisible pieces of mesh and dainty lace that made it look like the jewels were skin, woven together with intricate metal clasps, camouflaged behind the red jewels. He held out a black lace robe, as if that would somehow make me feel less exposed.

Hollis lifted my chin with a gentle touch. “Don’t lose your fire, Little Dove. Sex sells, and you’ve got to sell your soul to the crowd if you want to wipe away their fear enough to make them stand. The greatest hurdle of your life is before you, and not because of our freedom, but your own.”

“Maiden?” a trembling voice said from somewhere behind me. Genevieve stood holding a rolled parchment tied in a black ribbon, exactly the kind used in my mysterious birthday packages. She’d clipped her wild blonde curls from her face and painted her lips red. “The boss asked me to give you this.”

I scowled, daring her to step toward me. She’d been mean to Thea, the kindest person on the planet, and maybe today was the day she learned a lesson. Rather than pulling the parchment from her outstretched hand, I turned to the old man. “Hollis, my friend, I need my blades.”

He looked between the woman and me before nodding and shuffling back into the dressing area.

“You must?—”

I shot a hand up, stopping her. She stumbled backward as if I’d already struck her.

“I don’t speak to hateful people without weapons. Now be a good girl and wait right there.”

Her eyes bounced around the room, looking for anyone that might help her, but most of the performers were already backstage. There were times when I loathed the fear. But then there were others that empowered me, though I would never admit that to a soul.

“Arms up,” Hollis said, stepping close.

I kept my eyes glued to the woman as he fastened the jeweled straps around my hips. We’d agreed that featuring who I was without pulling the blades would make the audience feel something, and where I took it from there would depend on my performance. But I was confident. Even if I had to stand there and threaten each of their lives to force the ovation, I would. Because that was not against the Maestro’s rules.

“Do you see how close he stands?”