28. Forsaken

Forsaken

Luella

“Thank you,” the flora says, wrapping her arms around me. We're gentle. Each of us too aware of every lash mark I bestowed on her. I shudder knowing the whipping I just gave her is nothing compared to what she’s endured. I turn to Ledo. He’s lying on the floor, eyes wide.

“Husband,” I say, letting the condescension and disgust finally show through. “Have you figured it out yet?” I smile sweetly. “I have no intention of being trained by you, pleasuring you, or suffering even your existence for another night. Do you know why?”

I wait for his answer, but of course it won’t come. The paralytic permits him to hear, feel, and see while allowing no actual movement. This might be my favorite part.

The reckoning.

“Because you abuse women. And when you grow tired of that, you kill them. Floras who can’t say no, but I know about others, too. Young women like myself with no familia to look out for them.” I tap my pointer finger to my chin. “How many wives of yours have you murdered? I found three in the official records, but I know there are more, ones for whom you didn’t bother to file the paperwork.”

I don’t only kill murderers. I kill anyone who abuses women, if they fit the type of profile that allows me to get close enough to poison them, confront them, kill them, and escape. That means I’ve eliminated plenty of low level abusers. The men like Ledo though? The ones who think they are untouchable? Whose hubris leads them to believe they can do whatever they want to whomever they want, and have the power to not just avoid consequences, but flaunt their conquests? Those are the sweetest kills, even if the planning takes more work.

I drag Ledo’s still form to the bed. He’s heavy, but I’m stronger than I look. I’m on an errand from a god, after all. That doesn’t mean it’s easy, though. I’m panting as I arrange him into a star, stretching and tying each limb to a separate bedpost. Once there, I test each knot, making sure they are secure. Then I pour powder from another vial into Ledo's mouth. The powder is a combination of things, a reversal for the overall paralytic, but also a very special kind of replacement that Mia has been perfecting over the years.

“I’ll kill you,” Ledo seethes. He can speak now, because I need him to admit what he’s done, but the new paralytic still immobilizes his limbs.

“Try,” I shrug and watch as he realizes he can’t move his arms or legs. “Do you know the part you haven’t heard about Tisiphone?” I ask as his face pales. “That I don’t tolerate liars. You can have a quick death if you tell me how many women you’ve killed. If you don’t, I’ll make you suffer.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spits.

I lean down, just above his face. “I know everything about you, Praetor Ledo Ballona. I know about the eleven-year-old girl you whipped last mortua, and I know about the flora you used the flagrum on the night we met.” His eyes widen. “I. Know. Everything,” I growl. I don’t, but I know enough. I know enough to know he deserves to die and enough to make him afraid when he does.

He tries to shake his head, but the paralytic results in it looking more like a tremor. “No, you can’t.”

“I can. I’m here to make you pay, Praetor. You decide if you pay with your life now, or your blood for the next six hours.” It's mostly a boast. I don’t actually like to torture men; I like them to admit what they’ve done. I’ve done some unsavory things to gain their confessions, but the difference is that I didn’t enjoy it.

Much.

“Fuck off,” Ledo spits at me. The warm liquid lands on my cheek and I make a noise of reprimand.

“That’s not how good boys behave. Don’t worry, husband.” I smile. “You’ll learn.”

After Ledo’s confession, I dump the red vial of poison into his throat and watch as he dies. My first kill in the Domus Aurea, after all this time, and hopefully not the last.

Poison, potions, and wits.

I’m in the process of untying the ropes along his leg when I hear the door handle jiggle. I locked the door behind the flora when she left, and on our wedding night no one should be bothering Ledo and myself unless he rings the large bell off to the side of the bed that calls a servant.

I freeze, looking down at Ledo’s dead body.

I could shift my face, and pretend I found him like this. Or climb on top of him and pretend we’re having sex and tell them to leave. Bile rises in my throat at that idea, but I do plenty of things I loathe, all so that I can do this one thing I relish.

The noise stops. I remain frozen for several minutes. When I hear nothing further, I finish untying him and return the ropes to their places in the closet. I drape a sheet across his waist. If anyone were to look in, they might for a moment think him sleeping, recovering after his nightly activities.

A last glance around tells me the room is tidy. Now to return to my room as if nothing unusual had happened. Men like Ledo don’t sleep with their wives, and I intend to use that to my advantage.

I don my robe over the wedding gown that he never removed, and quietly unlock the door. The hallway appears empty and I step over the threshold.

A hand slides across my mouth and I’m pinned back against a warm wall. No, not a wall; a chest. I bite down hard on the hand and try to bring my elbow back into the attacker’s stomach, but they’re holding me too tightly.

“I knew it was you.” A deep, satisfied voice rumbles through my chest. Janus appears to have forsaken me tonight, because the voice is none other than Cassius Evander, the Dominus.

And he’s caught me.