Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

O ver the next few months, Desmond became Belladonna's shadow. He guided her, his knowledge of the world and its darkest corners proving invaluable. Together, they plotted and schemed, their plans a tapestry of deceit and manipulation.

She poured over a large map that Desmond had drawn up for her. Each dot represented a witch-hunt led by the cult.

He leaned behind her shoulder. "They're heading North from here, mistress." His warm breath stirred the nape of her neck, making her skin prickle with heat. "It seems their next stop would be Greenwich." His hand lingered atop hers as he moved her hand until her finger pressed upon a village on the map. "Here."

Belladonna drew in a steadying breath. As their bond deepened over the past few months, an undercurrent of something more than mere companionship simmered between them, a flame that danced on the edge of their forbidden pact. Desmond's presence was both intoxicating and unsettling. His dark charm was irresistible, and Belladonna found herself drawn to it. But she knew the danger of such feelings. He was a demon, after all, a creature born of darkness and deceit. A creature that seduced its prey into the abyss with its honeyed tongue. Cleverly, sweetly, so one wouldn't notice the monster lurking beneath the mask.

"What's the next significant event of the season there?" Belladonna forced the words out. "They like to recruit those with fat pockets and often do so at such gatherings. That's their pattern."

That's how they had found her family. Through Lady Lucretia's soiree.

"The next one is this," he said, pointing to a newspaper. "A ball at Greenwich."

Belladonna's gaze followed his finger. "Then, that's where we'll be. Lying in wait for them."

The demon's lips twitched. "Will you show them any mercy knowing the leader of the cult is married to one of your kin?"

"No," she said coldly.

Belladonna had been as surprised as anyone when Lucretia had extended an invitation. A far-off relation, Lucretia had married into wealth and had become distant as the moon. Belladonna had always suspected that Lucretia harbored a deep-seated resentment, a jealousy born from Belladonna's inherited magic, a gift that Lucretia had craved but never possessed.

How foolish she had been to believe that Lucretia's invitation was a gesture of reconciliation when it had been a carefully laid snare. Belladonna had fallen for the trap, revealing her magic in front of Lucretia's husband, a vile man she now knew was the leader of a sinister cult. It had been a fatal mistake to rekindle the candlelight when the lamps had gone out, a move that had guided Lucretia's husband straight to their doorstep.

"She had planned it all. To give him proof, to expose us, to destroy us." Anger flared within Belladonna's voice. "Mercy cannot be given to evil. To do so would be like offering a serpent a bouquet of lilies. It would only embolden its venom."

"Do no fret, mistress. I shall make sure they don't receive any." A devilish smile graced his mouth, as if he were tasting the sweet nectar of her vengeance. "I will be their doom, their final reckoning."

"That better be the truth."

"Of course," he said. "You're already aware that our kind cannot lie."

Desmond bent on one knee, his eyes burning blue fire. He raised her hand to his lips, and Belladonna drew in a sharp breath. As he sealed his promise through a black kiss, a shiver raced down her limbs. He would be her final reckoning too.