Page 88 of A Serpent in the Garden

And one of those damned I recognized, as Remy looked around. His doughy body flopped on full display, every dimple and vein lit by the unforgiving torches. The indignity was sickening, a plunge of revulsion the likes of which I had never known. Had I been in control of my own body I felt sure bile would be creeping up my throat.

I felt a wrench of savage satisfaction from Remy as I looked upon that slack, hopeless face. The black-throated ecstasy of watching John Dale dance, a puppet on a string. The dark back alleys of his mind, its murmurs and shadows, his venomous heart thumping in tandem with my unsettled one.

Am I supposed to feel sorry for the man who would have violated you? he snapped. Even if I hadn’t cared about you at all I would have killed him, the sooner to send him where he belongs. How terrified you would have been during your final moments. I wouldn’t have suffered to feel all that even if I’d hated you.

The bodies were dancing so quickly it made me ill. I heard my own blood hiss and pound around me, stuck there in that dark room in my mind.

They can’t lie during judgement. Remy’s voice was loud and hollow as it rang around my cell. If I had access to the council’s notes I could tell you what he did, every detail.

The last thing I wanted was details.

He leaned my body against the hot stone of the archway. How could I not kill him when I knew what his plan for you was? You couldn’t read the first time I saw one of the death reports. Blood between their legs, torn tissues, spilled seed dried and crusted on their thighs—that is not the work of an incubus. It was someone from the village. And when he grabbed you, I knew. I would never have let that happen to you. He’s lucky I didn’t do more than I did. Now he’s nothing but squealing meat for the demons of Fang to play with.

Why have they strung him up like that?

Sometimes they feel creative, he said, shrugging one of my shoulders. Have you ever heard of contrapasso?

Of course I haven’t, I retorted. I could not even read until he’d taught me.

The punishment reflects the nature of the sin. He used the bodies of those women he killed for his own pleasure. He made them do things, terrible things. His own personal puppets, until he broke their necks to hide his crimes. They’ll want him to know he’s their plaything now. There was a whip in his voice, every word a lash. He’ll dance for them for eternity. Or at least until they get bored of it. Then he might find himself violated in much the same way he violated his victims. He might be relieved of his cock at some point. It’ll come back and then they’ll chop it off again. A long, thoughtful pause. Do you know what the worst part is?

I didn’t answer. He didn’t seem to expect me to. I could not imagine what would be worse than what John Dale already had in store for himself.

Routinely they’ll ask the damned if, knowing what they know now, whether they’d have adjusted their behavior on Earth accordingly. They can’t lie here, remember. Do you know what the answer always, always is?

I said nothing, his cold, crushing voice reverberating around me. It was a moment before I realized my lips were curved into the barest of smiles.

The answer is always no. Desires that dark, they can’t be tamed, not even by a succubus, though Mother bless them, they’ll try. If the damned ever got a second chance they’d fuck it up just the same.

John’s eyes opened then, thin veiny lids peeling back. He didn’t recognize me at first, but from locked up in my head, I saw when understanding dawned. Popping black pupils, fat pale lips stretching into an O. The smile on my face cracked wider as Remy watched him watching me until the succubus controlling John’s strings sent his legs into a frenzy and his head flopped back on the broken stem of his neck.

I watched until it stopped making sense, all activity incomprehensible and pointless, an anthill boiling over with inconceivable chaos. I watched until, despite such bright and merry flames, I could not find a squeak of light anywhere in Fang. Then, wracked to my last shaky nerve, I turned away from the window of my eyes, preferring the darkness of his cell. Remy, I want to leave. I get your point, but I can’t stay here another moment.

You might tell Lord Fletcher and the rest of them that their wives and daughters won’t be forgotten, he said as he turned me away toward the landing. The succubi will always be there to remind him of what he did.

He relinquished control of my body when we made it back to his apartment. I was hungry but couldn’t imagine eating, not so quickly on the heels of seeing Fang in all its grotesque glory. My head ached in dull pulses, like a distant drum.

You’re okay, he said. You’re stronger than you think. I wouldn’t have suggested seeing him if I thought you might fly to pieces. You needed to see it. Now you have. I can’t send you home with proof—even if the council wrote a note confirming John’s confessions, some might think it’s all a forgery or your own invention—but you know the truth. And that’s all that matters.

It isn’t all that matters, I said, bewildered, sinking onto the edge of his bed. My thoughts or anything I know won’t make a difference to any of them back home. It was only Serich’s word that might help, and what would happen if I couldn’t find him, if he was already dead, and all for the sake of me?

Pardon. Remy’s voice was thick with sarcasm. Your thoughts are the only ones that matter to me, I should have said.

Then the conversation was abruptly ended by a rap on the door. I thought it might be the Flame servant returning, but when I answered the knock, I found Riquin framed in the doorway, bearing a plate and a careful, close-lipped smile.

“I got this from Alena,” he said, holding it out. “She was just on her way back up.”

“Thank you.” I set it on the bed and dropped down beside it.

“I heard you met Finn yesterday.” Riquin pulled the desk chair over to the bed with deliberate slowness. “I hope he didn’t frighten you. He seemed in too good of spirits when I saw him last night.”

I gave him a halfhearted shrug. “I’ve met worse than him.”

“He must have kept you a while,” he said delicately. “You weren’t here every time I came up to check.”

I felt Remy stiffen in my mind, as if he sensed I were about to fall into a trap. Riquin must have seen him climbing up behind my eyes because he held up a hand as if to force him back.

“Was he just trying to wrangle you into his bed the entire time, or had any other topics come up?”