Crack. Again.
I bring it down to his left temple.
And again.
I bring it down to his right.
Red.
This is it, my queen, keep going. Don't stop.
The pleasure inside me is at the edging point, Hale’s barely alive and there’s red everywhere.
I open the man's mouth and place the sharp, bloodied up crow inside, disappointed that it doesn't fit all the way in. He doesn't even bother screaming any more, he doesn't bother to fight nor beg.
I kick the crow further into Hale’s mouth.CRUNCH.Cracks and gargles fill my ears. So much red. The man's jaw is hanging looser than before, his cheeks torn open and leaking. The crow’s beak is sticking out the back of his neck and as his gargling, choking, wheezing cease.
My legs give way and I fall to the floor, an orgasm ripping through me as my world shatters.
Yes, my love!
Some time later, I'm in my own bed. I don’t remember how or when I even got home, and somehow, I’d even managed to grab a couple of new trophies: a lock of hair, shining grey and the crow. I had a single hazy memory of adding the hair to Ada’s plaited braids and the crow, all washed and shiny again, sits peacefully on my bookshelf. I’d also washed and cleaned my wounds, and my clothes were hung to dry. Trinkets, jewellery and money are spread across my table, all stolen from that bastard, and my belly is full of warm food. I feel sated in a way that I’ve never been before.
And I amHis.
I have to find him.
Chapter Eight
A beautiful sunrisespills through my window, golden and cruel, painting the room in honeyed light. It wakes me soft and warm; the kind of warmth that makes the world seem deceptively gentle.
My body hums with satisfaction after last night’s work. The way he screamed. The way his nails peeled back one by one, small crescent moons of punishment.
I smile.
Hehelped me through it, speaking to me when I got lost inside the monster. I should thank him for that. If only I could feel him here now, I’d put on a little show for him—something red and sweet.
I move through my routine. The air smells of smoke and straw as I greet my darlings in the stables, both of them shifting and snorting when they see me.
“Morning, girls,” I whisper, running my hand down Ada’s flank. She turns her head and presses her nose against my shoulder, her breath hot and trusting. “You’re my best one, Ada.”
The chickens greet me next. I take their still warm eggs carefully. For a moment, it almost feels like peace. Like I could forget who I am and just stay here, barefoot in the dirt, letting the world be soft.
But I can’t.
I was born a monster, was fucked by one, and grew such a hatred for almost everything.
I eat breakfast and then pack the treasure and money from last night into a length of cloth, tying it tight and hiding it deep inAda’s saddlebag. I don my hat, mask, and cape, then swing onto the saddle.
Going into town wearing my work gear is one of the best ideas I’ve had. Many think I’m male and I’m left alone, only the girls at De-Vil’s know the real me under this mask.
Time to face the city again.
London feels strange today—hushed, breath held. The usual noise of vendors shouting and beggars pleading is gone, and the guards move with purpose. Even the air feels tighter.
I slow Ada near a group of women huddled outside the bakery, and then go inside, pretending to look at the goods on offer. Their voices rise in little bursts of fear.
“You can’t say that! You’ll be accused of being a witch, Miriam!”
