“I become...different. The only other time is with...I—he can—” Blood stung my cheeks.
“Your husband moves you with his eyes. No shame.”
“Yes, you can say that.”
Rocco handed me the glass. “There's nothing left but a drop. I drank it. It is not poisoned. You will not feel it as they intended.”
“Why?” I drained the last drop. “Why would you do this for me?”
“I find myself...a bit taken. You have layers. I have seen you dance, at the ballet, and down below in the secret club. You are heavenly, but below, you bring a man to sin. I see what a boy could never—a boy wouldn’t know what to do with you. I doubt even some men. This is why your husband wants to slit me from ear to ear.” He grinned. “Simply put, you are the type of woman who makes dying for her an honor.”
I placed a hand on his arm. “None of that, for him or for you. I know what I’m doing, Rocco.”
He took my hand firmly in his. “I will have to leave you shortly. You will go down once more, and then you will descend on the stage. I have to ask you—are you afraid of serpents?”
“Snakes?”
He nodded, eyes as firm as his hold. “It is not venomous, just large. Look at me,” he ordered. “I will not let harm come to you. I vow it.”
The look on his face said everything he couldn’t. The serpent was the least of my worries. It was a plaything compared to…
“Those…men in that room…they are the worst of the worst, aren’t they?”
“Of men and monsters, the angel must decide which is which.”
The man who delivered the black flute came back then, retrieving the glass and Rocco. I unfastened the cloak, handing it to him before he left.
“Bella.” His voice broke. “Iwill kill him.”
How does one even respond to that? “Thank you, Rocco.”
“I will be in the shadows. Do not fear. You see me as a beast, but I am a match for a monster.”
The cage trembled once again, lowering me to another level.
Another man waited for me. He came close to the cage, running his plump finger back and forth along the steel, taunting me. I restrained myself from snapping my teeth at him. His face was distasteful, and his beady eyes leered at my body before he handed me another black flute.
“I had some.”
“No, no, no,” he said, his French accent strong. “You must drink up. Lives are on the line, angel.”
I put the glass to my lips, sniffing. More absinth. I downed it and then threw the flute at his head. He dodged, the glass finding floor in a shattering crash.
“Feisty,” he said, laughing, poking at me through the bars. “The men in that room are going to adore you. They enjoy a goodchase.”
I closed my eyes, listening. The music had stopped. Putting a hand to either side of the cage, I braced myself for the next stop—would it be hell?
A heavenly choir began to rise, and then I was lowered.
Chapter Fifteen
Scarlett
No, not hell in the literal sense, but close enough. The room was more like the Garden of Eden. I was supposed to be Eve, temping all of these Adams to sin. I doubted the probability of this cause. This was Olivier’s ultimate fantasy come to life, me as his starring attraction. Though it was all props and make-believe, I couldn’t help approaching as though the stage was hot.
I had been dropped down into the center of a wild wood, its depths as black as if it were real. The eerie, blood-curdling, hair-raising, womanly cry of panthers reached me first.
I glanced behind me. They were placed here and there, these humungous ghosts of the forest, dim lights illuminating their steel cages and unearthly eyes. Growling and pawing at their traps, they demanded to be set free. Eyes of gold glowed against furs of black velvet.
