Page 166 of The Mirror of Beasts

And in that last moment of awareness, I heard only Lord Death, his voice low and victorious.

“Now the bargain is complete.”

GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT

They returned to the house alone, for the very first time.

In the absence of the hunters, it was easier to assess the damage they’d wrought. True to their Hollower pasts, they’d hollowed the Summerland estate of all its treasure, all its value, all its memories.

And what was left was a husk readying to collapse in on itself.

The Children brayed in greeting from the roof, skittering down from the turrets. Drawn, he realized, by the enticing new smell of the girl in his master’s arms.

“Away with you,” Lord Death snarled, jerking his hand in dismissal.

They whimpered, skittering back over the stone facade.

The front door had been torn off hours before, when the Wild Hunt had burst forth to claim final victory over their enemies—or so they had believed. In the end, it had been their final ride.

And now, it was back to the way it was meant to be. He and his master would return to Annwn. And Tamsin …

When the seneschal had gone to carry her out of that festering den of serpents, his master had intervened. Insisted. And the hesitation that had followed was yet another strike against him, another whip for his master to lash him with. But still, his fingers had tightened around her, a flicker of defiance overcoming his fear.

He’d heard his master’s explanation of who—of what—Tamsin was with shock ringing through his whole being. But when she had appeared in front of him that second time, he’d seen only the Tamsin he knew. Maddening, sarcastic, churlish Tamsin.

But in the end, he’d relinquished her all the same, passing her weight out of his arms and into Lord Death’s. The sight of … of Nash had destabilized him, leaving the world trembling beneath his feet.

You can come home. You can always come home.

No. His fingernails lengthened into claws, piercing the skin as he curled his hands into fists. No. Nothing Nash had said was true. He’d only had to see the hatred on Tamsin’s face to know that there was no going back.

He had to return with his master to Annwn.

You’re my boy. There’s no magic in any world powerful enough to change that.

But there was. A single curse had stolen Nash a second time. None of what he’d said mattered. It didn’t.

Our home has been us three, wherever fate brought us.

The seneschal ducked his head, bracing against the rancid smell the hunters had left behind. Lord Death’s heavy steps left a trail of snow and decaying leaves among the shattered glass.

“Mark me, Bledig,” Lord Death said. “We will rebuild the hunt in time. Theirs was no victory. As winter returns, so shall we.”

“Sparing me again, I hope,” Madrigal said, striding up the steps behind them. She took in the full carnage with an amused glance.

“You will not fall by my blade, nor any of my hunters’,” Lord Death said. “It is your own kind you should fear.”

“What fox fears rabbits?” she mused. “Especially with the power you’ll grant me. They will burrow down now in their warrens, licking their wounds.”

Her words were proud for someone who still had dust caked in her coiffed hair. Her gown, with its long, sweeping sleeves, was torn in several places, and she either hadn’t noticed, or didn’t care to fix them.

A cold smile was etched upon his master’s face. The seneschal had wanted to believe that he barely tolerated the sorceress’s presence; that his honor would demand he spurn her for the way she had betrayed the Sistren. But Madrigal had given his master what he desired most of all. Not his seneschal. Her.

“I should like to see the pathway to Annwn open again.” Madrigal trailed after them uninvited as they entered the study. “If you would allow me … ?”

“Do what you wish,” Lord Death said, gazing down at Tamsin’s sleeping face again. It wasn’t a look of adoration. He was searching for something.

The seneschal’s stomach clenched painfully. He forced himself to look away.

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