She nods weakly, still shaking. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I’ll tie her up safe and give her a treat when I get there. I promise.”
I give her a small nod and slap Ada’s ass. My horse bolts forward, hooves striking sparks from the stone. I stand there watching until they disappear into the dark.
The moon is a cold white eye watching from above, and something inside me hardens as I glance at it.
Sirena’s safe. For now.
But there’s a soul back in the dungeon who isn’t.
It’s time to go deal with Mad Maude.
Chapter Ten
I makemy way back down to Maude.
She’s laughing. Not softly, not madly, but something in between; a laugh that sounds like a song half-eaten by the dark.
“Maude,” I say, voice low. “You’ve been busy.”
She stops giggling only to smile, her teeth gleaming pink. “Busy? Oh, I’ve been entertained.”
Her face catches the light, and I see what she once was—beautiful—before something hollowed her out. Her skin still glows faintly, but her eyes ruin it all—black to the edges, twitching, never still; always searching, always listening.
The air thickens. Something else is here.
A whisper slides across the stone, not from Maude, but from behind the torchlight. A soft twin laughter—male and female overlapping, low and close. I spin, but there’s nothing there. Only the trembling of the flame.
Then cackling, the sound rippling through the walls.
Maude grins wider. “Don’t you hear them? They like you.”
“Who?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
Her head tilts. “Them. They whisper what men crave and what women fear. They tell me when to act.”
Another voice joins—this one inside me, smooth and molten, sliding through the cracks in my thoughts.Ah… my old friends. Doubt and Desire.
My pulse stutters. It’s Him. His voice always arrives like smoke and gold.
They crawl where hearts are weakest. They delight in chaos and hunger, in making mortals tear their own throats for pleasure. I knew them in the pit.
“Then they’re demons,” I whisper to Him, inside my head.
No, my ruin. They’re worse. Demons obey. Doubt and Desire only play.
Maude jerks forward suddenly, the chains rattling like bones. “Do you hear them, witch? They tell me things about you.”
“I’m not a witch,” I say flatly.
She snickers. “Oh, you are something if you can hear Him and my friends. He touches your mind, doesn’t he? I can smell Him on you.” She inhales deeply, shivering. “Grey smoke and ash. The old flame of Hell’s favoured son.”
My blood goes cold.
Inside, He chuckles—a slow, dangerous sound that tastes like iron.She knows me. That’s almost… charming.
“Tell me, Maude,” I say, forcing the words out through my teeth. “Who made you what you are?”
Her head rolls back. The shadows ripple against the wall behind her, stretching like wings. Two shapes flicker there—one long and thin, one curving, both whispering in voices that crawl under my skin.
