She spins around and reaches over, curls an arm tight around my waist. “We got you a gift, kitten,” she snarls into my ear, her hand over the mic again. “Say thank you.”
“What the fuck?” I manage. “What have you done to her?”
She looks irritated. “Nothing that wasn’t required.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, bewildered, a drone of people spread behind us who can’t possibly understand either but seem content to go along.
She shrugs like it’s all so simple.Silly Jude. Silly stupid girl must be told everything.“I didn’t think it matteredwho, given your history and all.”
My blood sluices like ice.Whatmattered? It can’t be good.
“You wanted to see the Fathom, did you not?” Arla asks me. “You came tomydoor, pounded your angry little fists, made demands.”
My mouth opens but refuses to work. I want to saynoorstop. I want to argue, but when I reach for the words, they’re not there.
Rock, I see, can barely conceal his glee at my confusion.
“Everything comes with a price, kitten,” Arla explains. “If you want to see the show, you have to buy a fucking ticket.”
The poster in the areaway screams inside myhead—The face of a woman, the body of a monster, the power of a demon… Come and See for Yourself! IF YOU DARE.
Turning back to the mic, Arla announces to the audience, “Tonight, in a feat of incredible magic, our very special guest star, Judeth the Witch, will make this woman disappear!”
Whistles and applause explode over the chanting as excitement builds for our magic-themed BDSM show. To our right and left, plaster columns flank everything in a sick mockery of the estate where I grew up. I look down at Cadence suspended between the twins. Her eyes are dull but not lifeless. They meet mine and flicker with recognition and fear.
How did I get here? How do I get out?
I shift in Arla’s direction. “She’smy ticket?”
“Actually, these are,” she says, brandishing an open arm as someone I recognize as a barkeep arrives onstage carrying a gleaming silver tray. On one side sits a hammered brass vessel: a crude but polished bowl big enough for punch but empty, sigils etched around its rim. On the other, a black-handled knife gleams sharply beneath the lights, fashioned in every way to match the sword Arla is still gripping. Between them, a small glass and filigree vial, the flame-shaped dabber set into it.
I try to meet Cadence’s eyes, but they dart from one terrifying detail to another. I take a step back.
Arla’s expression darkens. “Delivered on a silver platter, kitten. You couldn’t ask for more.”
“I—I still don’t understand,” I stutter. The crowd has quieted behind us, their strange chant low and monotonous.
“Collateral, Jude. You want to have more of us, so we must have more on you.” She steps over and squeezes Cadence’s jaw in her hand, turning her face this way and that for the audience.
“But Cadence is one of us,” I argue. “She’sinthe circle.”
Arla rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, obviously. All part of it, kitten.” When I don’t react, she continues. “Come now, don’t pretend you didn’t know where all this was leading. The hour has come, Jude. We’re all here, gathered inhername. What Rudzitin began we must finish. One quick action from you, and the real ritual can begin. We can complete the pigment, descend into the darkness, paint the seal.”
I shake my head, my eyes beginning to water. A sick twisting in my gut is taking over. All I want is to leave.
“This is the price,” Arla hisses. “Do you want to keep her forever, or do you want to go back to your miserable life with no one and nothing, not even the power you came in with?”
When I don’t respond she steps closer, takes my chin with her free hand and forces me to look into her eyes, beautiful and wicked. “This is the price, kitten. Everyone has paid it. Now it’s your turn.”
My eyes shoot to Twig’s, then Rock’s, so self-satisfied. I shouldn’t be surprised. They’d follow Arla into hell if she asked. My gaze slides to Cadence. Her hands tremble before her, her mouth quivering. Her pupils are big as plums and glossy with unshed tears. There is fear in them but not guilt. Whatever she knows, it’s eating her alive. My heart sinks for Brennan, for Aaron.
“This isn’t right,” I tell Arla. “You never said anything aboutthis.”
“Blood, kitten. I told you.” Taking a step back she holds out the sword so that the point of the blade is only inches from my chest. It takes both hands for her to heft it. “Every club has its dues, and you’ve paid yours along the way. I didn’t come this far to stop now, Jude. You can do this the easy way or the hard way, but youwilldo it.”
Twig and Rock lean in, messing with Cadence’s binds. Then, in one swift move, they twirl apart, yanking her arms out, each of her wrists now tied in its own twist of silk. She is suspended between them, a humble bug caught in an elaborate web. Her head hangsforward, neck stretched out over the ritual triangle holding her hostage.
It’s heating up under the lights, despite the cold strike of terror lancing through me. The stage feels both vast and crowded at once. I may as well be standing on the cliffs at Solidago, the crowd at my back a sea I can’t escape. I gape at her. “You want me to kill her.”
