Chapter 36

The view from the balcony of Misery's End was like a different world. Though the heavy black curtains rose with a gust of anticipation, and the eager crowd moved to the edge of their seats, the Maestro strode out with his infamous cane clacking in perfect rhythm. That repulsive smile plastered across his face, lifting his curled red mustache, infuriated me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, wanderers of peculiarity, seekers of sultry, and brave souls who dare to tread where shadows dance and dreams unravel—welcome, oh, welcome, to the beautiful Misery's End, where no two shows are the same, and our deepest desire is to teach you what lust truly is, to make you feel as if your feet stand upon this beautiful stage. As if your body is moving to the pulse of…" He paused, pointing his cane at the orchestra nestled in the sunken pit in the heart of the audience. They responded right on cue, their barrage of instruments thundering through the theater. The Maestro whipped his cane back, and silence fell. Back and forth, he conducted from the stage, leaving the audience to follow the ebb and flow until they moved when he did. They leaned when he leaned. Frowned when he did. Until he conducted his audience as thoroughly as his musicians. "Just a little warm-up," he roared, sweeping his arm to the side. "But first, we must introduce our future's diamond."

All eyes followed his gesture as Quill, dressed in delicate layers of crimson lace, pearls, and makeup, rose from the ground in that massive gold birdcage, her swing rocking back and forth as she smiled and waved proudly to the crowd. If looks alone could kill, Drexel would be dead upon his stage. The manipulation of an adult by anyone was disgusting, but the orchestration of such tactics upon a tender child was nothing short of abhorrent.

The Maestro's cackle swirled around the room like hands, gripping every single person as he spoke with so much flare my stomach twisted into knots. It seemed only I could see beyond the mask.

"Lean closer, my delectable darlings, and bear witness to a world beyond the mundane. Yes. I know why you've come." He chuckled, the nuance of the sound practiced and particular. "I extend an invitation that promises an indulgence like no other. Behold a coven of the sensuous and the forbidden, where every tantalizing movement is a serenade to the senses, an invitation to embrace your innermost cravings. Within these doors, a woman's body is an art form, and a man's is a display of strength and grit."

He crossed the stage, the echo of his cane a taunt as a cymbal rattled in the pit, and slowly, very slowly, the music began in a crescendo. The Maestro flourished a gloved hand, holding it extended to the audience. That swine-like smile melted into something far more sinister as his finger curled. "Take my hand and surrender to temptation. Allow yourselves to be ensnared in the intoxicating dance of Misery's End."

In a heartbeat, the entire theater went dark and silent; the only palpable presence was the magic coating the air. Quill's magic. The reason the Maestro had kept her so close. The reason the king had tried to take her.

The audience gasped, holding their breaths for a beat and then another before the stage fired back to life. Drexel was gone, and four women stood in suggestive poses, with arched backs and poised hands above them. A single minor key of the piano played. The women shifted to strike new poses. Again. And then again. I leaned forward on the balcony, letting myself get lost in the way they moved. Each stance, a choreographed dance meant to weaken one's resolve. Barely dressed, poised behind perfectly placed feathers, the women turned at once, grabbing their black top hats. Four men stormed across the stage as the steady beat of a drum led each step.

Upon reaching the women, the men stopped, holding out a hand for their partner to lie back on before he stroked his fingers between her breasts, stopping just below her navel. The drum beat once more, the women stood, and a piercing note filled the theater as the dance changed. The women fell to their knees before the men. Reaching for them. Pulling back. An easy flow, perfectly timed, each tantalizing move making me feel as if I should look away. As if I were an intruder on a moment far more intimate than a moan and thrust in a dark alleyway. I couldn't help but think of golden eyes and thick forearms holding me. Of the sounds Orin might make and how that thought heated something inside of me. The burlesque show was indeed a lesson on lust.

I might have believed the first performance was a dance of yearning for what we could not have, but that was never the story the Maestro would sell. "You can have everything this world has to offer," the posters had said. "Step inside Misery's End to learn how."

Flashing a glance at Quill in a gilded cage, fury stirred within me. I'd hoped to come here and feel differently. To find that, in their own way, they were happy with the lives they led. And maybe some small part of them were. But Quill. She was not a tool. She was a child. And the way her giant eyes stared at that stage in wonder rattled me to my core. This was not okay. And I had the power to stop it. Only I had the power.

My thoughts were a downward spiral as the show continued. The only constant upon the stage was the heavy theme of seduction and the blue bands around every wrist. Each person bound to the Maestro. Each smile forced. Each twist and turn, every inch of bare skin, his. Every note played, and every light that fell was plucked from his delusional mind.

There were so many things that man had done that most wouldn't hear of. Though it could never be proven, it was whispered among the streets that he kept the opium dens full, and when my father had sent guards to the border, he'd been the one to fund the response in Bram Ellis's name. He'd sent Paesha to find the innocent. But it wasn't enough to know where they were, as she had told me one night. There was far more value in her ability to find his target's weaknesses.

The very same man that stood on that stage and welcomed the world in, hunted them. Plucking them from their seats with a skewer, learning what they needed most in the world, and offering it on a silver platter with a single fine line, entrapping them. A meticulous spiderweb that never missed a fly.

I watched that little girl twirl in her swing, listening to the music. Tapping her tiny foot. He was a predator lurking in shadows, and she was his prey. Eventually, he would pounce. It was enough. It had been enough for years. And tonight, Drexel Vanhoff would finally learn his lesson.

Two beautiful knives provided a balanced weight on my thighs. Their perfect curves, a seduction of their own as I peeled away from my seat, fighting Quill's compulsion, and began to hunt the Maestro. He hadn't been in his box. Nor had he come back to the stage. Which meant he was likely in his office.

I snuck through the upper portion of the theater quietly. Incapacitating the guards, who were probably not perfect citizens but likely wouldn't have done half the shit Drexel forced upon them, had they the choice. I tried to keep that in mind as I laid them out in the hallway one by one, not dead, but also not a threat to me.

The glowing light from beneath the door was all I needed to see before I stroked Chaos and Serenity and kicked the damn door in, staring into the bewildered eyes of a red-haired villain.

But shock melted into elation as he drank me in. Death incarnate, come to reap his soul. He must have been mad to sit before me, poised behind his desk, and grin. I drew the blades.

"So, they were wrong about you, Maiden."

Stepping into the office, I chanced a glance behind the door to make sure no one was there before slamming it shut.

There was no fear.

Why?

I didn't answer. I'd spent years holding my tongue with Death. Instead, I gripped Serenity's handle tighter, the embellishments digging into my skin, grounding me behind pulsing fury. The beautiful tone of Orin's cello crept up the stairs and beneath the door. The Maestro's requiem.

"We can both win here. I can protect you from the king that hunts you. Your palm does not bear my name, and we both know that to be true. Your beloved master is sworn to me. That blade will never strike home."

My ears rang as something beneath my skin buzzed with horror. "You could never force Death into submission."

His smile grew as he stood, weight heavily shifting onto the cane. "Perhaps the devil is in the details, Deyanira. May I call you Deyanira?"

"No."

"No matter. The name is not important." He thumped that cane three times on the wood floor and waited for my reaction.

I slid Serenity into her sheath, pulled a throwing knife, and watched as it slammed into his shoulder. Drexel's body jerked on impact, and finally, the wretched smile faded as if his own mortality, the blood that began to seep down his arm, reminded him that he truly was at Death's mercy, no matter the deal he'd made.

"Death is a master of deal-making, Deyanira," he said behind clenched teeth. "I know my place in this world, but do you know yours? Rumor has it you refuse to kill for him. Yet, here you are. Willing to kill for yourself. You think I'm the monster, but what does that make you?"

"I've never claimed to be anything but a monster." I flung another throwing knife. It landed exactly opposite of its counterpart.

The door slammed open behind me, and Paesha rushed in, holding Quill in her grip. I looked between them, unsure of what I expected.

"You have to take Quill away. Get out of here."

Her eyes sang a thousand apologies as she pushed the little girl toward the bleeding sadist. "You know I can't do that."

"Drexel?" Quill whispered, eyes glued to the wounds in his shoulders as she circled the desk to stand beside him. "What happened?"

"The Maiden and I are having a slight misunderstanding, nothing to worry about."

Rage powered through my entire body until I shook. "Get away from him, kid."

"But he's my friend. He keeps the bad guys away, just like you do."

"No. No, he doesn't."

"If you think I had anything to do with her kidnapping, you are mistaken, Maiden. She is far, far too precious." A forced laugh filled the room as the Maestro's giant hand landed on the girl's shoulder, and he turned his words to her. "Just a game, little one. Just a game." But when his eyes cut to me, I could see the venom behind the glare. The warning. The promise of pain.

"I want to make a deal," I blurted, caught between her safety and my rage.

Another laugh. "Of course, you do, pet. Everyone wants to make a deal. But what could you possibly offer me?"

A game, then. One of careful ledges and dangerous slopes.

"I wish to speak to Paesha alone before I tell you. Those are my terms."

"Of course, my dear. Shall I cover my ears? I'm afraid my arms aren't working. Quill, my darling, would you mind removing these blades?"

"No!" Paesha yelled, darting across the dimly lit office. "I'll do it."

She'd meant to save the child from the horror, and I was grateful for it, but equally sickened by the lengths Drexel would go.

The squelch of the blades' removal twisted Quill's face, though she wouldn't look at me. I'd hurt her, even when I'd been trying to save her. But if being her villain kept her away from the claws of the Maestro, I'd take that role to my grave.

I shifted forward. "It has to be a true deal, or I walk."

The sharp tang of magic filled the air as he spoke his next words. "I will allow you two minutes of privacy and no more. You may not leave my theater, nor speak to another soul. If you do, you're mine forever, Deyanira Hark. Do you agree to those terms?"

"No," I answered. "You must also agree that you cannot and will not ever ask Paesha about the conversation."

"I agree that I will not ask or seek to discover what is to be said. Are those the final terms?"

"No."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm listening."

"During our time, she must be allowed to speak to me without any of your agreements preventing her. It's only fair that I walk into this deal as knowledgeable as you are. And if you fail to uphold your end of the bargain, you are bound to me, just as I am bound to you if I fail. An even trade."

Clenching his teeth, he gripped the edge of the desk. "I agree to your terms. Do you agree with mine?"

Heart hammering in my chest, sucking in a sharp breath full of a lifetime of warnings and fear, I lifted my chin. "Yes."

A searing pain leeched around my wrist, binding our magical deal. Paesha ran into the hall, snatching me on the way out.

"You are a godsdamn idiot," she hissed.

My voice was hardly audible and full of panic. "There's no time; we have two minutes. I'm going to do something far more ridiculous anyway. Confirm for me, Quill can affect emotions. That's her power?"

"Yes." Her brows rose, shocked at her ability to answer.

"And the Maestro cannot bind her to him yet, true?"

"True. Her age is limiting his power."

"And if I make a deal with him, will Quill help me, or will she be too upset that I've attacked him?"

She lowered her chin, realization falling over her. "I'll talk to her. She will help you." With a pause, she rose to her full height. "And I will help you, Maiden."

"Do you know where the Life Maiden is?"

"No." Her shoulders shrank. "And he has demanded I find her. I have to search every day, but I don't know what I'm looking for. Or who. I'm sorry."

I took her hand. "And I'm sorry for Ezra. If this all goes to shit, just know that I never wanted any of this."

Leaning her head to mine, she closed her eyes. "You're forgiven. Just don't fuck this up, or we're all in trouble. What's the plan?"

Stepping away from her, I shook my head. "He's already looking for a loophole."

We walked back into the room to find Quill waiting beside him.

Paesha reached out a hand. "Come on, Quilly, let's go back downstairs."

"Is this your wish?" the Maestro asked me, an eyebrow lifted.

I said nothing. He'd meant to trap me within the two-minute window. If I spoke to anyone but Paesha, I was his. Forever. So, I waited. And waited. Counting up in my mind until no less than five minutes had passed.

"They are not needed for you and me to bargain, are they?"

He glanced at his watch. "Clever girl."

"Check your other wrist." I smiled sweetly.

When he drew back the opposite sleeve, revealing the deep blue band, he nearly fell out of his chair. "What is this? What have you done? Your minutes are over."

"Well, Drexy-poo, can I call you that? I feel like I can. You see, making deals is a tricky business. I was bound to your terms for two minutes, but you, sir, are bound to mine for life. Shall we revisit the conversation?"

His eyes doubled as he sank back, suit jacket still covered in blood. "No. I remember."

"Should you ever ask about our conversation in the hallway, even trying to find a loophole verbally, which I'm sure is already spinning through that messy head of yours, you fail your part of the bargain, and you become bound to me for the rest of your life."

"You don't have the power to bind me."

"No, Drexy. But you do. That's your own magic turned against you. Pity."

"Get out of my office."

I lifted Chaos, picking the dirt from beneath my nails, feeling more myself than I had in ages. I'd forgotten who I was when my world had been swept away, but no more.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me," he said, standing, gripping the edges of his desk for balance. "Get. Out."

"Don't you want to know how to get rid of that band? I mean, if you want to keep it forever, that's fine, but I'm willing to make a much more lucrative bargain with you."

I knew he couldn't resist the urge. An offer from Death's Maiden sitting on the table. But I'd outsmarted him once, and he wouldn't allow that a second time. I'd need to be very, very careful.

"Speak the terms and I will decide."

"I will perform on your stage, in front of a normal audience one time. If I can earn a standing ovation, then you will let my friends, specifically, Paesha, Thea, Quill, Hollis, and Orin, free from their debt to you. And if I cannot do it, then I will fall in line and become your weapon. There's not a person on the planet you cannot ask me to kill. And you cannot turn me over to Icharius Fern or his men. You can do nothing to prevent me from performing."

His eyes glistened with mirth as his power began to fill the room, igniting with the spoken terms. "Five shows. I decide the performance, and you have ten minutes on stage each time. Should you fail, you are mine for life. There will be no loopholes, Maiden. And once this deal is struck, the other bargain is void."

"No. I agree to these terms only. The prior bargain cannot be terminated until this one is. I will perform in three shows, and within ten minutes of the performance start, I must have a standing ovation. You cannot do anything to keep the people from coming or standing or clapping, and it must be a single act on the stage. You cannot ask me to do anything more than the rest of your performers do, nor can you ask me to kill anyone. I also will not fight Death's hounds, so don't even think about it."

"Watch your words, Maiden. I won't agree to bind my mind's thoughts."

I rolled my eyes. Magical deals were so nit-picky. "Fine. You can think about it, but you cannot ask it. I won't fight them. And you can never speak of the details to Paesha, Quill, Orin, Thea, or Hollis."

"No. Never is eternal, or have you forgotten the lesson you've just taught? I will not ask them a single question about this bargain until after the final grain of sand falls on your third day. And then I am free."

"Fine." I shrugged.

"And should you fail, you are mine forever." He lifted an auburn brow. "You seem to have conveniently left that tidbit out."

Holding myself as still as possible so he could not determine which of us was the real predator here, I nodded. "For the rest of my lifetime. Not forever."

"Final terms?" he asked with a dangerous smile.

I circled the plan over and over again, making sure there was nothing that I couldn't manage. It felt secure. And though warning bells were firing in my mind, I could see the nerves on his face. He carried the same thoughts I did. This was incredibly dangerous. But the freedom of that house, of Thea's kindness and Hollis's love, of Quill's carefree spirit, and Paesha's fierce loyalty, and my husband's future all came down to this one moment.

"The shows must be the next three consecutive; you cannot drag them out. Whatever your normal schedule is, that is when I will perform."

His cocky grin faltered, ire staring back at me in human form as he spoke through clenched teeth. "Final terms?"

"Final terms."

Again, the magic seared my wrist, sealing the deal with a power I had no business messing with. Because from this day forward, until I could free them all, I was bound to Drexel Vanhoff.