Fear washes through my rage. My head swings left, and I see Mama around the corner of the pyre. Papa is to my right. Both are chained and unconscious, their chins to their chests.
No. No, no, no—
“At last,” breathes a demonic voice, “she wakes.”
A pair of masked figures emerge from the farthest shadows of the crypt. I can do nothing as they approach, their robes slithering behind them like snakes. Their faces are completely concealed. As they near, their silhouettes take shape. Neither of them are built like the man with heterochromia I saw at the masquerade.
“What the fuck is this?” I snarl, struggling uselessly. “I spoke with your boss. I told him to take this up with me, not my fucking family. Where is he?”
One says, “I’m afraid whoever you spoke to, Poppy, does not speak for Leviathan.”
The other says, “At least, not anymore.”
“Let’s not confuse her further, Acolyte.”
“Why not, Magus? It’s been soentertainingwatching her spin in circles all these months.”
“Mm. It has, hasn’t it?”
Their sniggers sound like fiends cackling over fresh meat.
My focus darts between them, unsure who is saying what. “Is there a clause in your creepy cult handbook that says you can’t show your faces to the dead-to-be? Or are you all just fucking cowards?”
They tilt their heads and share a glance. The left one moves first, doffing the mask with gloved hands to reveal cinnamon ringlets and sapphire doe eyes.
I snicker. “How underwhelming.”
Quinn scoffs. “You’re not even going to ask mewhy?”
“Don’t insult my intelligence. You’re a fucking cliché, Quinn Wildes. Raised by a cop, only to learn they’re just another shade of gray disguised in blue. Drawn to the dark side, because, well, we have cookies and morally black men. Speaking of the latter, you fell in love with one. Kudos on living out the age-gap fantasy, by the way. You discovered his secret in some way or another—let’s be honest, nobody cares—and became his understudy. Made up that bullshit lie about being blackmailed. Willingly helped him with the purge of my bloodline to earn yourself a place among his people. Explains why you aren’t branded yet. But you will be, right? After your task is complete. Oh, and let's not forget about your fake friendship with the coroner who'd been hunting me for ten years. He gobbled up all your lies, because he sees the good in people. But you're not good, are you? You're the villain, and you always were.” I smirk at her scowl. “Did I get anything wrong,Acolyte?”
Quinn remains damnably silent. Her superior, though, chortles as if impressed.
“You missed your calling in profiling, Poppy.”
“Wasn’t in the cards.” I shrug. “And who are you, Magus?”
“You’re not going to guess?”
“Don’t want to flex too hard. Might hurt myself.”
Another chortle. “Oh, how I’ve forgotten your fire.”
My eyebrows knit as the gloves come off first, unveiling a fresh manicure and a stunning opaline ring. Then the mask slides from golden beachwaves and a misshapen ear that I distinctly remember my bullet grazing after I’d been stabbed. Thick lashes lift, and chocolate eyes solder to mine.
I shouldn’t be shocked. We knew she was involved with Leviathan in some regard. Yet I feel like I’m staring at Medusa shedding her snakeskin.
“Margot.” I suppose the poppet we found in the academy archives wasn’t made for her, butbyher. “Now,thisis a surprise.”
A sinister smile spiders over her Cupid’s bow. “Would you like to psychoanalyze me now?”
“Not enough therapists in the world for that.”
“That’s what I like about you, Poppy: you’ve got balls. Unlike the rest of your boring family.” A dismissive flick of her wrist at Mama and Papa, both still knocked out cold. “So, tell me. How is Brontë? Is he as delicious in bed as his brother?”
“Fuck you.”
Margot chortles as she idly toys with the ring—the Bourbon heirloom. It reminds me of Brontë’s eyes, the gemstone casting a kaleidoscope of colors over her grin. “There’s a story behind this ring that isn’t widely known. Apparently, it was forged by a guardian angel who fell in love with his mortal charge. He was of course banished from Heaven to live eternity in Hell. Legend says his lover ended her life early to be with him forever. That mortal was supposedly an Aurelius. When Ancient Rome fell, the ring was lost and later found on the shores ofBaie des Angesin Nice, France by a Bourbon.”
