Page 31 of All Hallows Masque

When we weren’t bonding, AKA me very carefully manipulating her into thinking I was perfectly content to be here, she tested my jaguar. I nearly ripped her to shreds when she placed an innocent woman from the village in the valley in front of me instead of our usual trials. Instead of me chasing her around the grounds while she giggled and I pretended to fight the urge to shred her to pieces, I had to actually, painfully resistthe urge to sink my teeth into warm flesh, to feel hot blood rush over my tongue and fill my belly.

There was a split second when I was sure I was going to gore the woman apart like I did to Nightmare. I’d black out and wake up chewing skin and crunching bone. Or maybe I’d be conscious the whole time. I ran towards her, my paws beating up the long grass, and a memory rose of the dream, Misery laying me out in that grass. The lapse was all my creature needed; I snapped my jaws three inches away from the innocent woman.

She survived, but the only reason she was alive was because I tore myself away and ran so hard for the cliff edge that water sprayed my fur and Cruelty screamed for me to stop. I thought that’d be the end of it, until the next day when an old man stood in the garden, and today there was a fuckingkidthere, shaking, her pigtails thrashing her yellow raincoat in the wind. Cruelty kidnapped a child, and thatenragedboth me and my beast.

So to say I reached the second masquerade at Ford in a shitty mood was an understatement. It had been harder to fake enthusiasm during the getting ready portion of my torture, and Cruelty could sense that I was off.

“Come on, Kitty,” she wheedled, grazing her shoulder over mine as we walked the short path up to Milton Hall. I glimpsed shadows in the windows of the top floor, and others in Lawrence Hall where I’d lived, but none of them ventured out. Either spelled or, more likely, cursed to never leave. I didn’t know what the fuck had happened at Ford after I left last time, but it couldn’t be good. Not if Cruelty had control over every little thing. “Don’t tell me you’re still annoyed about this morning’s test?”

“Kids are off limits,” I replied frostily, trying to summon some kind of warmth. “I mean it. You don’t put a single child in danger again, or our friendship is over.”

Cruelty stopped abruptly before the wide stone steps where red roses had been arranged in a dramatic spill from the highest window on the tower. “Our friendship will never be over.”

My blood iced over at the sharpness of her eyes, the stillness of her expression sending a prickling sensation down my back. She held herself as still as a statue but I felt the fury boiling under the surface, and my heartbeat turned thunderous.

“It will be if you put another child at risk,” I said in a whisper, my anger condensing into something brittle and easily shattered.

Cruelty crossed her arms over the bodice of her dress—as rich as dried bloodstains—and I staggered back, clutching my throat.

Sharp pricks of pain buried in my neck as—oh shit, the collar she gave me. Her generous birthday gift. It was nothing more than shackles to keep me in line. If I never questioned her, it would have remained an innocent, harmless coil of metal. But now? The roses grew thorns that sank into my skin, making tears burn as I stumbled back, my hand flying to the necklace.

“Stop,” I gasped, the sharp pricks turning into deep, scalding pain. I clenched my jaw, my nostrils flaring on rough pants as I tried to endure, to breathe thought the torture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Just—stop, please.”

I flinched when Cruelty came into my line of sight, blurry with my tears, brown-haired and decorated in red from her hair clips to her lipstick, her necklace, earrings, and the dark burgundy dress that flowed over her body like a spill of blood.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Kitty,” she sighed, pushing my hand aside so she could run the tip of a fingertip over the choker embedded in my skin. I wanted to jump away, to lash out at her, but that would only make it worse. I kept still, trembling, crying. “Please don’t make me angry again.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?” She held up her hand, pinky extended.

I wanted to scream, to shift to my jaguar and mutilate her, but more than anything I wanted the pain to end, so I linked my pinky with hers and choked out, “Promise.”

The pain vanished as swiftly as it came, and I sagged, tears ruining my makeup, breaths sawing up my throat and into my lungs.

“Here, Kitty.” She pressed a handkerchief into my hand, the same deep red because everything had to be on theme. “Let’s not argue again, shall we? Tonight is supposed to be fun!”

For whom?I wanted to demand, but I sealed my lips shut and used the handkerchief to mop up the blood on my neck. It had already soaked into the white bodice of my dress, turning the silk and beads into something eerie and violent. Now I looked like a vampire bride instead of a bride of death.

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Let’s not argue.”

She beamed and led the way up the steps and into Ford.

I had no choice but to follow.

20

Cat

“Crudités, mademoiselle?”

I jumped when the silken voice sounded too close to my ear. My hackles raised but when I spun, my fangs bared—real fangs gifted by my irritation and my creature, unlike the fake ones everyone thought I was wearing—it wasn’t another courtier trying to distract me from finding my husband. It was the bartender from last week, though dressed in gunmetal silver with two lines of crystal blood down his lapel, like he’d been bitten.

Tonight’s theme was vampire masquerade and Cruelty had outdone herself. Any staff I spotted were dressed similar to the barman, with crystals forming violent spills of blood from their throats or wrists. The courtiers were all adorned with black lace and carmine silk and frothy white shirts, their masks more gothic and sinister than last week. The walls had been covered indark, glittering fabric, and red lights sparkled from chandeliers, casting everything in unsettling shades.

I sighed, giving the masked, curly-haired man a glance. “Mademoiselle?”

“Well, you told me never to call you m’lady again.”

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