Page 20 of Hell Hath No Fury

“Did they try to sell you?”

I laugh, though it comes out bitter and hollow. “No, they just kept me in storage. They knew who I was. They couldn’t do much to me without permission.”

She’s quiet, her hands tracing over the various brands and marks that are a permanent part of me. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I do,” she replies softly. “So much hurt and torm—”

I jerk away from her, swiftly rolling over and effectively cutting off her words. “No, Lilith. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“I should have done something, anything, to stop it.”

Now, the laugh that falls from my lips is bitter, and I shake my head. “And what would you have done? You had no control over anything. You had barely entered womanhood. How would you have done anything?”

“I could have refused. Refused and taken whatever punishment was coming my way.”

“And then you would have been dead,” I snarl, the mere idea sending rage coursing through me. “And they would have found someone else.”

“Maybe that would be better. Mayb—”

I interrupt what I know she’s going to say by pressing my hand to her mouth. I slide closer to her, leaning in until my face is mere inches from hers as I whisper, “Never. Never say that.”

She pulls my hand away. “But it’s true. If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have ever happened.”

I place my hand over her mouth again, glaring at her angrily. “You know that’s not true. And remember, without you, Antoinette and Agatha would not exist.”

She presses her lips together, and I feel them trembling against my palm, so I press, “And then, if nothing else, you have to recognize the likelihood that Antoinette would not have lived without your interference. Without your subtle misdirection andredirection. I know you wish you could’ve done more. I know you certainly wish you could have done more for Agatha, but it’s you managing to do everything you possibly could that allowed them to survive.”

Her eyes are bright, and she blinks a few times and then sniffles, so I ask, “Do you understand, Lilith?”

After a moment, she nods, and I remove my hand from her mouth, cupping her cheek gently. We lie there, staring at each other, the silence oddly comfortable considering all that has been said here tonight. She brings her hand between us, using her index finger to stroke lightly along my forehead. I shut my eyes briefly, allowing her free rein to touch me as she pleases.

“Even given how fucked up the situation was,” she says quietly. “It’s still a relief that you were the first one. Being the monster was better than being faced with a monster.”

My eyes open, and I force myself to remain relaxed, wanting her to feel comfortable speaking to me about whatever is on her mind. She pauses, looking at my face while appearing to look straight through me, so I ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

She blinks a few times, and then her eyes meet mine as she shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You can. Even if I find something upsetting, I won’t be angry or take my upset out on you.”

She smiles faintly, the corners of her eyes wrinkling slightly, and that warm feeling of familiarity rolls over me. That same warm feeling I’ve carried with me for decades, buried deep beneath the rage, hurt, and confusion.

She’s still staring at me, a tinge of humor on her face, and I feel like it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her look even remotely peaceful. Emotion jackknifes in my chest, and I open my mouth, fully intending to make a joke, but instead, I whisper, “I love you, you know.”

I cough as soon as the words are out, and her eyes widen comically, and then she shakes her head until, once again, I move my hand over her mouth so she can’t argue with me over how I feel. “Don’t fucking say anything. I don’t want to hear your arguments, denials, and the laundry list of reasons why those words could possibly not be true.”

I stop speaking and stare at her, waiting for her to confirm that she understands what I’m saying. When she gives a slight nod, I remove my hand from her mouth and then continue, “If this deep ache I’ve been carrying in my chest for decades isn’t love, then I don’t know what it is. And I know you’ll say I don’t actually know you, but I can assure you that I know more about you than you think. To the outside world, you’re the unhinged, maniacal queen of ultimate retribution. But upon closer observation, it’s obvious you’re so much more than that. You’ve been labeled as cold-hearted, a woman who likes nothing more than to reap bloody havoc across the world. But you never do so without cause. You’re not out there taking advantage of innocent people; you’re not reaping the rewards of standing on the backs of those who can’t fight back. You’ve learned that sometimes, the only way to rid the world of bad people is to eliminate them permanently, and you’re not afraid to do the dirty work.”

She raises a brow at me and laughs. “I’m not fucking Robin Hood, Antonio.”

I smile, relieved she’s not going to openly fight me on my random declaration. “Only if Robin Hood was an avenging angel.”

This time, she laughs outright and then shakes her head. “An angel? Really?”

I laugh even more loudly, embracing the moment of lighthearted euphoria that rushes over me. And then, suddenly,it’s like the years haven’t gone by. Like we’re two young people caught up on the edge of a lovers’ embrace.

The smile slowly fades, her expression turning serious as she asks, “What if it’s too late?”

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