Page 89 of Too Hexed to Handle

He knows what I am.

But that doesn’t explain why he’d want to use the cure on me, of all people. What I did was nothing in comparison to Eira. I’m not responsible for his hex, nor did I keep people in a basement to conduct all manner of experiments on them.

‘Yvette,’ he calls out, clicking his fingers, and I’m hit with another blast of that citrus scent as the girl from the basement runs into the room.

The girl with the acid touch. Her brown dress only has thin straps, and stops mid-thigh, keeping the majority of her dangerous flesh exposed. Her feet are bare. She may have been released from the cage, but she isn’t free. Terror is a raging beast in her eyes as her gaze flicks between me and Damian. Two ropes dangle from her grip.

‘Bind them,’ he orders her.

‘No, wait –’

Astin lunges before I can finish, before I can warn him to stop – her hand clamps around his wrist, below the cuff of his jacket where his skin is exposed, and the howl he makes is awful and blood-curdling. I tremble, backing against the wall, utterly useless as his flesh sizzles. The knife falls from his hand. His knees buckle. Yvette ignores him as he thrashes and kicks, twisting and yelling as she quickly binds his wrists and ankles. I’m struggling to breathe.

Damian watches intently as she comes for me next. I drop to the floor, cowering beside the table, tears blinding my vision. ‘Please,’ I say. ‘I’ll tie myself. You don’t have to touch me.’

I can’t believe I’m offering to truss myself up like a pig to slaughter, but if the end result is the same, I may as well limit how painful the process is. Astin whimpers on the floor, and my body lurches, wanting to run to him, to soothe him, to save him.

I should never have come here with so little magic. I promised in the temple I wouldn’t let myself be vulnerable again, and I’ve failed at the first hurdle.

‘Please,’ I say again. Yvette hesitates, looking between me and Damian. ‘I wanted to help you, remember? Why are you doing what he says? I don’t –’

‘I’m losing patience,’ Damian calls out.

She jumps and moves at once.

I scramble back as she approaches, but despite its ample size, this room may as well be a coffin, because there’s nowhere to go, nowhere to escape. Yvette is between me and the door, and there’s no hiding place to be found.

‘Don’t . . . touch . . . her . . .’ Astin says through gritted teeth. He tries to crawl towards us, but he’s like a fish flapping on land. His exposed skin is red and raw and blistering.

Yvette studies me, conflict warring in her expression, and then she angles herself to block Damian’s view of the two of us. My eyes widen as she burrows her hands in her dress, using it as a shield between me and her skin as she binds my wrists tightly.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper, which is an odd thing to say to someone tying you up, before letting out a shriek and making a show of wriggling for Damian’s benefit.

She ties my ankles next, before dragging Astin by his jacket and hauling him so we’re sat upright, side by side. His hand brushes mine, and I’m not sure if it’s to reassure me or himself. He’s shivering, sweat beading on his brow. I curl one of my fingers around his as best I can.

‘Thank you, Yvette.’ Damian vacates his chair once he’s sure we’re secure. ‘That will be all, for now.’

She can’t run from the room fast enough.

‘What have you done to her?’ I ask.

‘Done to her?’ He raises a brow. ‘I unlocked her cage, and she came willingly.’

‘Right. And I’m sure you didn’t threaten her with some terrible fate if she refused,’ I say. ‘I already know what a liar you are. You were supposed to be using the cure on Eira.’

I don’t ask the question on my lips, but I’m sure he hears it anyway. What do you mean, you plan to give it to me instead?

His smile grows. ‘I was, wasn’t I?’

Beside me, Astin struggles against his bonds. The rope must cut into his burn, but he won’t stop, no matter how much it makes him hiss with pain. I wish he’d give up. Whatever’s going on here, he doesn’t need to be a part of it. Maybe Damian will release him after he’s done whatever it is he wants to do to me.

Damian holds the cure into the light once more. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? How one tiny thing can change the make-up of a person. Truly extraordinary, what a Souleater can do, when they put their mind to it.’

‘And Clarabelle took the credit for it,’ I say. ‘You left your study unlocked. I read her letter.’

His expression doesn’t change. ‘I have no need of it any more. I’m about to achieve what she never could.’

I frown. ‘What do you mean? All she wanted was to make Ozias take the cure.’