“Of course, it’s no great surprise he survived. We already knew he had an animal’s uncanny sense for danger. After all, he knew better than to kiss you, didn’t he? I really thought I had him there. What man could resist your charms, if he didn’t know what the price would be? Perhaps you warned him, though. Perhaps you didn’t try hard enough. Even though we both know you wanted to kiss him.”

Cythera kept her eyes focused straight ahead. She did not allow her cheeks to flush, did not permit herself the slightest reaction. Hazoth only spoke to her like this when he was bored. It was a little game. An amusement. He would say something provocative—perhaps hint at some dark secret relating to her mother, or tell her a story of some perverse sexual encounter he’d had four hundred years ago. If she gasped or even so much as shuddered, he would crow and caper. And then he would punish her.

He had so many different ways to punish her.

“I could tell, when I saw the two of you together. I could hear your heart beating faster. The smell of your breath changed. You want him. You want the little thief to be your plaything, don’t you, Cythera? Hmm? I asked you a question, girl.”

“As you wish, master. If you wish for me to desire him, then I shall.”

Hazoth laughed. “You can’t hide it from me. I could taste it in the air, the change that came over you. You were concerned for him. Afraid of what I would do to him. Just ask me, girl, and I’ll bring him here. I’ll put a charm on him that will drag him straight to your bedchamber.” He tore off a strip of venison with his teeth and chewed noisily. “I’ll make him kneel before you. I’ll make him burn for you. Just a word, and that can be yours. Of course, you’ll destroy him the moment he paws at you with his coarse hands. One rough touch and he’ll be torn to pieces. But maybe that would give you pleasure, hmm? Would that make you sigh? Would it make you moan?”

“I serve at your pleasure, master. Not my own.”

Hazoth stared at her with his perfect, clear eyes. She knew he was trying to look into her heart, to winkle out her secrets. The charm on her skin made that impossible, but he still tried from time to time. He took an interest in her, certainly. After all, she was all that stood between him and a series of gruesome deaths.