Chapter 40

Another night of tossing and turning in a borrowed bed in a house that had slowly become home carried me through the majority of the next hours. It wasn't until the moon had trekked so far across the sky I could no longer see it that I fell asleep. But, when I opened my eyes, Death stood on the threshold of his court with a lethal smile, heavy iron gates framing his ominous figure.

"Do you avoid sleep to avoid your master, my Deyanira?"

I'd never given much thought to how he'd claimed me until now.

He strode gracefully forward, pinching my cheeks with his firm hand while leaning in to whisper, "Will you live eternity in this silence? Once you are called to join me? Do you forget that you already broke your vow of silence just before you delivered your father's fateful end?"

Gritting my teeth, I avoided his cold, dark eyes as the low growl of a hellhound, standing over his shoulder, forced my heart into a place that resembled fear.

Death's low cackle rattled my bones. "Your stubborn will shall get you nowhere in the afterlife, my darling."

He'd never pushed beyond forcing my eyes to his. A concession I would always grant him: the upper hand in his realm of darkness. There was familiarity in those evil spheres. Of the madness that consumed me should I fight the magic. Of the days lost in opium dens and clawing my way through a prison wall until my nails were filed away and fingertips bloodied and raw. Of twenty-three souls taken in one fateful night. Of the flowers tattooed on my back in remembrance. It took everything I had to hold that glare as his fingers trailed down my arm and gripped my wrist.

"I have a good feeling about this one," he purred.

The pain was quick and all-consuming, burning the flesh as he dragged his nail through tender skin. His wretched smile as he waited for me to scream held me upright. It hurt. Beyond the pain of a dagger in the gut or a lonely heart. He'd made it worse for his own sick pleasure.

When the name was given, he pressed his cold lips to my cheek and whispered, "I will break your stubborn spirit," before fading away.

I jerked upright in bed, closing my hand in a fist. Was that a warning? A threat linked to the name he'd given. All of a sudden, I had names that I needed to protect. Names that I could not bear to see.

When I knocked on Paesha's door moments later, tears streaming down my face, she pulled me into her bedroom without hesitation. Thea was already there, sitting on her floor, folding laundry.

"Gods, Deyanira. What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

But the Huntress was far more observant. She moved in front of me, voice soft. "Who?"

"I don't know," I managed. "I'm too afraid to look and see one of your names."

Thea stood, taking Paesha's side. "What if you don't? You can't hunt someone without the name, can you?"

The magic within me pulsed as if in defiance of her statement.

Look.

With tight fists, I banged my hands into my head. "Don't talk to me."

Look.

Oh, gods. Oh, gods. He'd threatened me, hadn't he? Fear unlike anything I'd ever known grabbed me by the throat, stealing every full breath. Every steady heartbeat.

Look.

I buried a hand into my hair, pulling, if only to remind myself that I was only a human. Just a woman with a god's dangerous power coursing through her.

"Hey, stop," Althea said, rushing to grab my unmarked hand.

"You have to lock me away. You have to find a way to stop him."

Paesha grabbed the wrist of the other hand. "You know we can't do that. If Drexel announces a show and you aren't there, he will own you. And those names will be a lot closer to home and a lot more frequent."

I nodded, swallowing the lump burning my throat. "It'll be his name. It'll be Orin's."

Look.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced that voice into the abyss of my own mind. Fighting a losing battle.

"Show us," Paesha whispered. "We will help you."

I shook my head, trying to break away, but they did not relent. In fact, the Huntress grabbed my shoulder and jerked me back to sanity. "You are not alone. Let us help you. We'll do it together, no matter the name."

My eyes fell to the floor, catching the moment they locked hands. Paesha's tan skin a beautiful contrast to Thea's.

"Let us help shoulder your burden," the blacksmith insisted.

"It will be his name."

"Breathe," Paesha commanded, even as the magic thrummed. "Turn your head and let us look first."

I nodded, following the instructions, though my heart could barely stand the seconds that passed after Paesha pried my hand open. They'd been silent. Too silent.

Look.

"No."

"Dey?"

Look.

"No!" I shouted.

My heart leapt into my throat, suffocating me until my ears rang, hearing only that madness inside of me.

Look.

"Stop it!" I cried, yanking myself free of the women to crumble to the floor, gripping my head as I rocked back and forth.

"Deyanira Faber, stop this immediately."

It wasn't the firm voice of the Huntress, nor the soft tones of the blacksmith. It was Hollis. He stood in the doorway in a sharp-fitting red suit, face full of pity as he looked me over.

"You have to warn Orin. You have to tell him to run. Please."

"It isn't his name, Deyanira."

My head whipped to Paesha. "I… What?"

"It's not Orin." She locked eyes with Hollis. "It's Tolen Santus."

Thea gasped, words shaking. "Are you sure?"

The old man cut a glance at me before looking over his shoulder and pulling the door shut behind him. "Well, that's going to be a problem."

I finally dared a peek at my palm, confirming the stranger's name. "Every death is a problem."

I swiped away my tears as I let the calmness wash over me. No matter the name, it was a burden I loathed, but how could I go my whole life with the repetitive fear of their deaths? Being alone, though it came with its own tribulations, made this part so much easier to bear. Maybe Orin was lying, and he was actually protecting himself.

"Because I've been hunting him for a while, and I cannot find him."

I blinked slowly. "You've been hunting the Life Maiden longer, have you not?"

"This is different," Thea interjected. "Tolen used to be part of the Syndicate. He's our friend. My friend. Paesha knows him well."

"The missing people? He's one of them now?" I asked.

Thea helped me to my feet, eyes glued to my hand as she said, "What happens if you can't?—"

Her words were halted by a gasp as indescribable pain raced over my palm, nearly taking me back to the floor. I clenched my teeth, ripping myself free of her grasp as white clouded the edges of my vision.

"What the—" Paesha snatched my hand back, looking down at it and then back to me. "Did you do something?"

I blinked past the tears. "No."

"Holy gods," Thea whispered. "The name changed."

"What?" Jerking myself away again, I studied the burning edges of freshly seared skin.

"Gresidia Fischer," I mouthed, shaking my head. "That's never happened."

"Do you think…" Hope grew in Thea's eyes. "Do you think he's safe, then?"

"I don't know, but we need to call a meeting." Hollis rushed out the door as the rest of us stood in shock. Within minutes, he'd returned. "I'm sorry to say it, Little Dove, but you're going to have to hustle with that death."

"Why?"

He pulled a roll of parchment from behind his back, the black ribbons long enough to touch the floor. "Looks like the boss got the stage fixed. We have to report by nightfall."