Page 43 of Marrying Bluebeard

“Madame has already been to the tower.”

28

BERTRAND

I’m the epitome of selfish naïveté. Had I truly believed she’d be safe simply because I willed it so? That Celeste would be satisfied with a replacement? She may be bound to the tower, but her webs are strong, her whims even stronger. I was a fool to bring Adelaide anywhere near her.

I have to get her out of this place once and for all.

A shame I went and had myself locked away. Yet another prize decision in a long line of brilliant choices. You just had to have her, didn’t you? The beautiful young woman who rode her horse like a bat out of hell and whispered assurances to lingering souls. Who played chess with ghosts and snuck out to swim at the break of day. She was everything you never knew you wanted, and you just couldn’t resist.

Now she’ll pay the price for your greed.

Who knows what ungodly horrors Celeste’s unhinged mind has planned for her?

My hands fist around the iron bars of the cell, and I focus all of my strength in bending them. No use. Without Celeste’s blood, I’m no stronger than an average mortal—a mortal locked in his own dungeon.

Bloody fucking hell.

I slink down against the bars in defeat. “I’m sorry, Adelaide. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Meow?”

It’s happening, already—I’m losing my mind. Hearing things in the dark. How long before I’m frothing at the mouth and snapping at shadows? Like that one, moving across the back of the cell, its bushy tail twitching. It’s barely a wisp of light and dark, and yet I’d swear I was being watched by a pair of silver eyes. When a translucent paw steps into the stream of light granted by the narrow window above, I realize I do, in fact, have a visitor, and an unexpected one at that.

“Whisper?”

The feline specter sits in the middle of my cell, eyeing me cooly. I’m surprised she’s not hissing, as she usually does every time I’m near. Not that I blame her for disliking me. Her instincts are spot on. Which begs the question: “What are you doing down here? Why aren’t you with your mistress?”

The cat’s eyes roll heavenward, and a low growl emanates from her tiny body.

“Ah, I see. You know about Celeste.”

Her tail puffs at the mention of the devil’s name.

“You know then that Adelaide isn’t safe here,” I continue, watching the cat with increased interest. Is that why she’s here? Our shared concern?

Whisper sniffs, then prowls toward the cell door, keeping a careful distance as she moves past me. Wary, as ever, of my presence. She passes through the bars then stretches up and bats at the lock, claws clicking against the metal. My jaw drops.

“You can make yourself solid?” I knew Adelaide could touch her, but I’d thought that a distinct gift on my wife’s part. “I don’t suppose you know how to pick locks?”

The look I’m given is pure disdain.

“Right, of course not.” I study her face as she stares through the bars. As if she’s waiting for something, but what? “Do you know the maid named Louise? Young, blonde, shockingly disloyal?” Whisper dips her head once. I take that as an affirmative. “She has the key in the pocket of her dress. Do you think you could get it?”

She cocks her head, and I can almost hear the words, Maybe. What’s in it for me?

“I messed up. I know that. I never should have brought Adelaide here, never should have even looked twice in her direction. But I did, and now she’s in trouble. If she drinks even a single drop of Celeste’s blood after being fed upon, there’ll be no saving her. She’ll be bound to my mistress as surely as I am. But if I can get her out, take her away from all this, I should be able to break the thrall Celeste undoubtedly has over her.” Of course. How could I have missed it? She’s been under Celeste’s thrall this entire time. Flying, indeed. “Please, Whisper. Help me help her, and I’ll make sure she lives a life free of this castle even if it destroys me in return. I swear it.”

Whisper’s eyes narrow, and before I can add to my plea, she’s gone. Vanished into the ether. I can only pray she’s decided to help me. Can only hope that she can.

The hours pass in eerie silence, the light from above slowly waning as night draws ever closer. Whatever hope I had for a ghostly intervention has faded. What did I expect? That deceased feline had every reason to doubt my intentions, if she even understood me. After all, I was the reason her mistress was in peril to begin with.

I’d leave my sorry self to rot down here as well.

The scrape of a door echoes through the chamber, followed by the soft tread of feet on the stairs. Candlelight illuminates Louise’s somber face as she approaches, a basket hanging from her arm, and I immediately scramble to stand.

“How is she? Has Celeste done anything to her? Made her do anything? Is she…” Is she still human?