A cackling laughter cleaves the air behind me. I spin around to see Cassia standing in the courtyard, her hands on her hips. Her blond hair is piled in carefully pinned curls on top of her head, and her breasts nearly spill from her mint green dress. “Here I thought you’d be crying and moaning, but you aren’t losing any tears over her at all, are you?”
What is she blathering about now?
Sebastian puts a comforting hand on my arm, and I just shake my head, prepared to ignore my cousin’s jealous nonsense.
“Now that little sister’s out of the way, you can finally score the hunky apprentice? Is that how this works?”
I roll my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
She grins, blue eyes bright. “You don’t know? You’re officially too far behind on your payments, and Mother has had enough. Bakken just took Jasalyn to the faerie traders.” She makes fists with both hands and then opens them dramatically. “Poof! Gone. Just like that.”
Chapter Three
I BARGE INTO MADAME VIVIAS’S OFFICE, sending the door slamming against the wall so hard the pictures rattle on the walls. “Where is she?”
My aunt doesn’t even startle. She puts down her pen and pats her head, adjusting the perfect bun of dark hair she spells to keep lustrous and thick. “Hello, Abriella. Congratulations on your freedom.”
“No,” I breathe, but I see it—the pile of ash on the corner of her desk, all that remains of a magical contract once it’s fulfilled. “Why?”
“I had to cut my losses at some point.” She folds her arms across her chest and leans back in her chair. “I could’ve done this months ago, but I was waiting to see if you could catch up.”
I feel like someone’s squeezed all the air out of me and I’m held in a grip so tight I can’t fill my lungs. I didn’t realize I was hoping that Cassia was lying. I didn’t realize I was . . . hoping.
Madame V waves a hand, as if this is all as trivial as who will prepare dinner, not about my sister’s life. “Your sister will be just fine in Faerie. I’m sure she’ll charm everyone there, just like she did here.”
“You’ve made her a slave. They’ll work her to death or torture her for their own amusement . . . or . . .” I can’t even say the rest, can’t begin to enumerate the other horrific possibilities. This isn’t happening.
“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s really the best future she could ask for, considering the hole you two have dug for yourselves. What was she going to do? Spend her life scrubbing floors like you? Maybe sell herself to men looking for cheap pleasure?”
“You should’ve warned me. I would’ve—”
“What? Stolen the balance of your debt?” The arch of her brow suggests that she knows all my secrets. “Even you couldn’t manage that, Abriella. Frankly, you’re lucky I’ve looked the other way all these years. I could have turned you in for your illegal deeds.”
“But you didn’t. You took the money, no matter how I got it. You’ve made thousands every month off that unfair contract, and you sold her anyway.” My body burns with anger, my blood boiling with rage that threatens to spill over.
“Come now. You’re being ridiculous. They’ll ply her with faerie wine and it will all seem like a dream.”
I feel like I’m vibrating. I want to tear off her jewelry and turn it to dust with my bare hands. I want to rage and scream until I wake up and learn this was all a terrible nightmare.
“Jasalyn’s sacrifice released you from your debt today—be glad.”
“Where?” I demand. “Where did they take her?” I’ll find her. I’ll search their entire godsforsaken realm to get my sister back.
“Maybe she’ll fall in love with a faerie lord,” she says, ignoring my question. “Maybe she’ll live happily ever after, like in those stories your mother always liked to tell.” Disgust drips from every one of her words. I don’t want any part of me to be like Madame Vivias. But this we share—her disgust, her judgment. I hate my mother for abandoning us, for leaving us with her brother just so she could be closer to her faerie lover. For sentencing us to a life that led to this.
“If Jas dies, I hope her death haunts your every waking moment,” I whisper. “If she’s hurt, I pray that fortune cuts you twice as deep.”
“Now you sound like one of them, throwing curses around on good people.”
“Good people don’t sell girls to the fae.”