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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.”
