My eyes flicked back to the black stone palace.

No movement from inside because Lucien only lived in the heart of it. Right now, he’d be passed out in his bed with Whisper guarding him closely. He wouldn’t know what happened out here. He’d never hear what I would say.

I could lie as much as I wanted or tell every droplet of truth, and yet...I found myself wanting to hoard everything.

They didn’t deserve to know a single thing about him. Fact or fiction.

“Speak,” Lydia hissed, her blade cutting me just enough to send a hot droplet rolling down my throat.

I strained away from her dagger, rising as high as I could go. My mind raced. I panicked. “It...it was a gift!”

Lydia slowly lowered her arm, her face contorting into a scowl. “A gift?”

Pressing two fingers to the small cut, I nodded and stuck as close to the truth as I could. “He...he overheard me complaining I wasn’t being paid for my labour. I guess he grew sick of it and...” I shrugged, waving at the vial in Evelyn’s grabby hand. “He gave me that for services rendered.”

The girls gawked at each other.

“He just gave you his blood?” Evelyn rolled the vial between her fingers. “He cut himself, put it into this bottle, and gave it...to you?”

There was a trap in that sentence, but I couldn’t see it.

I nodded like an idiot.

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Do you even know the value of that? What his blood is worth? To the machines that require it to start? To the scientists trying to synthesise it?”

“I have some idea.”

“And you’re saying he just gave it to you for no other reason than covering an hourly wage?” She crowded me against the huge torch, her breasts touching mine. “You expect us to believe he’s that generous to you?”

My heart flurried. “Like I said...it was to shut me up.”

“With something this precious?” She strangled the vial. “Why?” She looked me up and down, her upper lip curling as if I’d crawled from the gutter. “What is it about you that he finds so tolerable? Why would he even care that you were whinging? You’re trapped in here at his mercy—he can make you do whatever he wants.”

“No idea.” I swallowed hard as nausea built. “If that’s all, I’ll just—”

“Shut up.” Holding the vial to the darkening sky, she studied it as if she didn’t believe me. The red thickness flowed in the glass as she turned it. The longer she studied it, the more her suspicion blended with greed. “Could you get more?”

My head pounded. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

Evelyn grinned and cupped my cheek. “Wrong answer.” She tapped me hard enough to be a slap.

I clenched my teeth as more pain drenched my system.

I fought against it and didn’t make a sound. I definitely didn’t retaliate.

But I needed to go—soon, if I didn’t want to collapse at their feet.

Lydia laughed and slipped the jewelled knife back between her breasts. “Get us another vial and we won’t kill you.”

Hugging myself, I shrugged as innocently as I could. “Why do you even want it? It’s not like it’s any use to you in here.”

“Does it look like we care what you think?” Evelyn snipped.

“Nope.”

“Glad you’re finally showing some intelligence after all this time.” Evelyn slipped the vial into her black leggings pocket. Backing up, she pointed down the path. “Run along then. Straight to bed, so you’re energised to clean like a good little slave tomorrow.”

Stepping past her, my ears rang as another wash of nausea squeezed my throat.

Damn stress.

Damn ridiculous nervous system.

“Don’t forget what you owe us.” Lydia waggled her fingers in goodbye. “Stay alive now, you hear? Work hard for him like a good girl.”

I didn’t bother replying as I ran.

I hadn’t wanted his blood.

I would never have drunk it.

But having it taken off me?

I shivered.

If Lucien found out, how much trouble would I be in?

If he knew the very girls trying to kill and seduce him had stolen the very reason he was trapped in this cage, how angry would he be?

And what would he do to me in retribution?

Chapter Thirty-One

LUCIEN HAD BEEN QUIET, WHICH WAS his usual mood after blood drawing.

He sipped a drink while resting in his window seat, his eyes closed as if he was sleeping but his hands bunched as if he suffered rising claustrophobia from being trapped.

I’d stayed out of his way as much as I could, afraid to meet his eyes in case he guessed what happened last night and the thievery of his blood.

I focused on cleaning outside: sweeping his private courtyard, weeding the flowerbeds around the wall, and finding I actually liked working with plants. My headache hadn’t gone—I doubted it ever would—but it eased enough that I’d had a rather pleasant time.

Especially as Whisper kept me company, lounging with his tail and front paw dangling over a branch where he lay in the only tree.

By the time I heard Lucien in the kitchen, I’d done most of the chores outside and even planted a few veggie seeds I’d found in the small shed holding the pruning gear.

With dusk falling and my fingernails black from soil, I brushed off the dirt on my knees, shook out the creases in my calico linen dress, and headed toward the tree in the centre of the courtyard.

“I’m leaving.” Smiling into the branches, I tugged Whisper’s tail gently. “You’ll visit me tonight?”

The huge cat yawned with his giant fangs.

I took that as a yes.

Which meant I would actually sleep. I hated that he’d become a strange sort of sleeping pill. My love of napping had faded in the last few weeks, thanks to the other girls getting desperate.

Another few bodies had been removed, steadily erasing the would-be killers. But the more Lucien exterminated, the bolder the ones left behind became.

Not for the first time, I wondered if it would be safer to move into Lucien’s palace. To claim a wing for myself instead of heading to my pavilion on the outskirts of his estate every night.

Squeezing Whisper’s tail one last time, I headed toward the patio doors.

The heavy thud of the panther dropping behind me hinted he’d left his snoozing spot and followed. I shut the door once we were both inside and pulled the curtains, transforming the space into a sanctuary instead of a prison.

Lamps and lanterns cast a golden glow over the huge library shelves, the couch with its panther-shaped divot, the half-set chessboard, and the tower of books by the window seat. The room seemed homely and calm but after spending twenty years in this place without leaving, it would be just as sickening as a jail cell.

Shaking away those thoughts and shoving aside the pity I felt, I left Whisper to prowl toward the kitchen to find Lucien and slipped out the door—

“Ahhhh!” Clutching my racing heart, I staggered backward.

“Are you always this reactive?” Lucien narrowed his eyes where he stood in the middle of the corridor as if he’d just returned from somewhere.

Dropping my hand, I rolled my eyes. “Only when someone scares me.”

“You’re the one who appeared, not me.”

“Weren’t you in the kitchen?”

“I was but now I’m here.”

I exhaled and forced a smile. “What are you doing lurking about?”

“I was coming to find you actually.”

“Me?”

He nodded, his eyes locking on mine with an intensity I didn’t like. “I couldn’t find you.”

“I was in the courtyard.”

His gaze dragged over my dirt-streaked dress. His jaw flexed. “You’re filthy.”

“That’s why I was going home. To shower.”

Home?

This place wasn’t my home, no matter how much of a routine I fell into.

“Not yet you’re not,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Come with me.” He grabbed my wrist and dragged me back the way I’d come. Whisper grunted in welcome as Lucien carted me toward the centre of the living room where the massive chandelier shone the brightest.