“Three, two, one, showtime,” I announced to the device, watching its crimson eyes flash as the camera activated. “Coming to you live from the bowels of Evermere, it’s the ‘Make a Psycho Cry’ hour, sponsored by Revenge. Because nothing tastes sweeter.”
The spy eye’s wings buzzed in response, and I swear it gave me a judgmental look. Could mechanical bugs look judgmental? If Koa made it,absolutely.
I approached the door, jingling keys and change in my pocket with deliberate loudness. Another psychological trick: Let her count the seconds before the door opens. Let her imagination run wild with what might be coming for her.
Twenty-three seconds. That’s how long I waited after inserting the key before turning it. I counted each one in my head, picturing Eluned on the other side, wondering which brother was about to walk in. Would it be Cas with his cold calculations? Ko with his barely restrained violence? Or me, the wild card?
When I finally pushed the door open, I flicked on the single overhead light. The bulb buzzed and flickered, casting uneven shadows across the room. Not planned, but a nice atmospheric touch nonetheless. I tossed the spy eye into the air, my enhanced hearing catching the soft whir of its wings as it sought the perfect vantage point.
Eluned sat against the far wall, still bound by Casimir’s enchanted cord. Her dark hair hung in limp strands around her face, anddespite her circumstances, her eyes held that same manic gleam I’d seen in Seri’s memories the first time Arabesque siphoned her.
“Evening, Luney,” I drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “Hope the accommodations are to your liking. We were going for ‘abandoned serial killer lair’ vibes, but the decorator was on a budget.”
She didn’t respond, just watched me with those unsettling eyes. That was fine. I didn’t need her to talk to dig around in her brain.
I pushed off from the door and strolled into the room, cracking my knuckles one by one, a habit that drove Cas insane, but served as an excellent tension-builder. The door swung shut behind me with a satisfying clang.
“So,” I said conversationally, “let’s chat about your mother’s plans, shall we? And don’t bother lying.” I tapped my temple with my index finger. “I’ll know.”
“You think you scare me, half-breed?” Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
I mirrored her smile, showing just enough teeth to remind her what I was.
“Oh, Luney. I’m not here toscareyou.” I crouched down so we were eye-level. “I’m here tobreakyou.”
This was going to be fun. For me, anyway.
Eluned only eyed me like I was a particularly interesting science experiment, one she was just dying to dissect. I made a mental note to remind Koa to finish that Hexenfänger he’d been messing with, trying to install a self-incinerating feature. Witch catchers were so much more reliable than fae rope, and way more painful with those spikes lining the inside of the cold iron collar.
That also reminded me to remind Cas that we needed an incinerator installed ASAP. It was going to be a bitch to cut this witch up into pieces small enough to fit in our crucible.
Not that I’d mind, but it would take time away from me doing things I wanted to do.
Such as my wife.
Plopping down cross-legged on the floor, I stared at her without blinking, and she leaned forward, like we were girlfriends at a sleepover about to share secrets. I recognized the manipulation tactic immediately: Create false intimacy, establish rapport. Amateur hour.
“You clenched your fists after the hawk went for her. Isawit. We were watching. You don’t really want her, do you? Not truly. Not withthem.” Her voice dropped even lower. “You wanted her to die that day, didn’t you? You wanted to be free of the burden.”
I let my expression remain blank, which I knew would irk her more than any defensive reaction. Inside, though, I was equal parts amused and disgusted. So this was her play. Drive a wedge between me and my brothers, make me question my commitment to Seri.
If only she knew.I sighed wistfully.
Nothing got me harder than watching Koa sink his thick cock into her while she gripped a handful of my hair. Well, unless it was seeing Casimir lose his ironclad control when she begged him for more. Eluned didn’t need to know any of that, though. Let her think she’d found a crack to exploit.
So I sang, watching her face freeze in confusion as I twisted her earlier nursery rhyme.
“Hickory dickory dead,
The witch lost her head.
My gun went boom,
The witch met doom,
Hickory dickory dead.”
Her eyebrows drew together. This wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. No defensive anger or guilty stammering, just calm, creepy singing. Good. Keep her off-balance.
