Page 32 of Currency in Flesh

“No.” There was no hesitation in her voice, and that had to count for something. She didn’t sound like she was lying. “You are mine,” she continued. “The rules are different for you. It is not your place to question the functions of the Underworld, and I would ask you to avoid harassing the brothers and the souls in your quest for answers. You will not find what you seek.”

“But—”

She grabbed my face, pinching my cheeks between her fingers. “This is the end of the conversation.”

I was simultaneously enraged and aroused. I despised that I liked it when she gave me commands, hated that her firm grip made my mouth water for a taste of her. “Yes, Lady Cora.” My voice came out muffled and distorted, and she smirked, squeezing my cheeks more tightly.

“Good, pet. Now, come. I wish to bathe.” She released my face, her fingers dropping to drift across my throat. When they withdrew, the collar had found itself back around my neck. I let out a little gasp, and she tugged at the thin silver chain that stretched between us.

Clearly, she wasn’t going to tell me anything, but until now I had never really considered that Lady Cora might answer to someone as well. If this was something that affected everyone in the Underworld, didn’t she have a responsibility to be honest about it? I wanted to ask. If I knew what her struggles were, wouldn’t I be more capable of helping her shoulder them?

Another sharp tug at my collar reminded me—I wasn’t here to help bear her burdens.

I was here to help her forget them.

In a way, the two things were synonymous, but in the first, I had power. I was someone to confide in. In the second, I was a plaything, little more than a shiny toy. I’d been enjoying being played with. For so long, no one had shared even a shred of affection with me—I’d survived off scraps and spite. But was this any better? I thought whatever this was between us was becoming something more, but today, she reminded me precisely where in this relationship the power lay. It wasn’t with me. She claimed to see my worth, that I made her weak, but when I truly asked for something, she still didn’t think me worthy enough to answer.

I wanted to be worthy.

The springs seemed even hotter as we descended the dark steps. Steam rose and swirled around us, leaving my skin damp. The collar at my throat felt sticky, and the fabric of my nightgown clung to my body. When we reached the bottom level, Lady Cora wrapped the chain around her palm until I was forced to take small, staggering steps toward her. A bratty, petulant part of me refused to be easily compliant. It was fucking stupid, but I had control of this—she could force me to do just about anything, but she couldn’t make me willing.

Even if she knew I was.

“Are you displeased with me, daffodil?” she asked, pulling me closer with another loop of the chain.

I couldn’t restrain myself from jutting out my lower lip when I replied. “No, Lady Cora.”

“Little liar. You are angry that I did not answer your questions to your satisfaction.”

“You do not owe me answers,” I replied.

She pulled me forward one final time, putting us so near that my breasts pressed against her ribcage. Sliding her hand into my hair, she wrapped the strands around her fingers, directing my face to hers. “I know,” she said, eyes fixed on mine. “I owe you nothing, and your dear husband owes me everything. Do not forget why you are here.”

“I thought you wouldn’t take me as payment,” I said, confused.

“Correct. Yet, his soul is worthless. So where should I seek to collect what I am due?”

It felt like a trick question. “I’m not sure,” I answered unsteadily.

“Do you understand what a bargain is, Grace?” she asked sarcastically—spitting my own words back at me.

“Yes, Lady Cora. But I don’t know.”

“Do you know what can happen? What it means for me to give power to a mortal and not receive it back?”

I shook my head, looking down. She jerked the chain hard enough to make me cry out. “No, Lady Cora.”

“Ah, I see.” She intoned coolly. “You do not understand the workings of the Underworld. You do not know”—she tapped her chin with one long nail—“anything about my realm. You believe yourself worthy of my secrets, and wish to change things in the Underworld while still unable to take responsibility for your own problems.”

I had been right, and I had marched right into this position.

“What problems?”

“Where is your husband?” she asked, glancing around us as though he might be hidden in a corner. “What sort of vengeance have you wrought upon him? You have done nothing to him past the elbows.” She rolled her eyes. “I have given you an opportunity that no woman in the Underworld has ever had. The man you should hate more than any other, at your fingertips, ready to bleed for you. Yet, you spend no time exacting your revenge, instead choosing to gallivant around coffeeshops and meddle inmybusiness.”

Shame hit me all at once. She was right, I’d made assumptions based on—what? How I felt the world should work? I certainly had no idea how the Underworld operated. Lady Cora mentioned keeping a balance of power between the pit, the meadows, and the isles, but I never stopped to think if there was more involved. I never asked about the precise terms of Sean’s bargain, or what she really expected to gain. I assumed taking Sean’s life was enough, and I was just an added bonus. The inside of my nose began to sting, and I knew my eyes would fill with tears if I were to look up at her, and the horrible feeling of weakness that tried to claw its way up into my throat made me want to scream.

“I’m sorry.” I sniffed, trying to chase away the overwhelming embarrassment. Lady Cora had seen me cry, comforted me while I was at my worst, and she had promisedme it didn’t matter—that she still found me appealing. Was this the same woman who held me and whispered gentle assurances, or was this the Goddess of the Underworld? Were they one and the same?