Page 15 of Spark of Madness

I’d wondered if it was the first time she felt pleasure.

I’d wondered a lot of things about her…so many things that minutes creeped into hours. I watched until she fell asleep, and before I knew it, the night was coming to a close. I had to leave her to return to the Homestead before daylight—and without a single release of my own.

I’d squandered my only opportunity to satisfy my impulses for the next month. I missed out on the physical pleasure I was meant to take, all because I’d lost myself to the curiosity in watchingher.

“Here she comes,” Theo mutters, running a hand through his mess of sandy blond hair, and I don’t know exactly who he means.

I look across the vast, gravel-covered square toward the trees, and I see her.

Mercy.

Her platinum hair shines in stark contrast against her black clothing. And she’s not alone. She’s helping Ellary carry Cambria—and I’m not surprised. From what I’ve gathered, the three girls are close.

However, I am surprised to see young Delle close behind, clutching the remains of her corset to cover herself. Frankly, I’m surprised to see her walking on her own. Last I’d seen, she was taking a harsh whipping.

We watch as the group of girls make their way across the open square, small pebbles crunching and kicking up around their feet. It’s thirty paces or so from the trees to the end of our line, and we stand in waiting as they pass the first of us.

“Thank you for your service,” Owen says from the end as they pass.

Another two paces ahead, they cross Ryker. “Thank you for your service, ladies.”

Each of us thank them in turn, standing still as they huff and struggle to carry Cambria across the vast square. They pass Theo, who offers his thanks with a cursory glance at Delle. And as they approach where I stand—second to the last in our line—Mercy’s eyes meet mine, though she quickly looks away.

A grin curls my lips. “Thank you for your service,sinner.”

I’m not entirely sure why I feel compelled to remind her that she’s sinned, but I do. And the way her gray-blue eyes narrow on me as she sets her jaw makes something inside me stir—whatever it is slithers up my spine, coiling around my nerves and squeezing.

She doesn’t say a word as they pass. She arcs an eyebrow as she gives me an appraising look, and then her eyes leave me, stealing my breath as they do.

The way she turns from me feels as though I’m a flame being snuffed out by the breeze of her disapproval.

My fingers twitch in my pockets with the desire to put pen to paper—she’s walking poetry and my hand aches to write her. I don’t know how she’s managed to evade my senses for so long or how she’s suddenly triggered such an awareness within me.

It’s no matter. Her demeanor is insolent. She’s sinned and punishment awaits her.

BY MID-MORNING,THEgirls are all accounted for and safely tucked away at Sanctuary, save for one. Ivy Jane’s remains are being prepared for grievance and honor at a servants’ ceremony that will take place later in the week. It’s probably good she didn’t survive being lit on fire; I imagine the recovery from such an event would have been excruciating.

The seven of us cross the village square. The town is at our backs, and the Homestead manor is in front of us. Gravel crunches beneath our feet as we walk the empty space to the sprawling mansion estate where we reside. The people of Ember Glen live in their humble homes in the village, but we—the seven men of the Control—live here at the Homestead. Our space is superior and separate from the residents.

Our manor is made for kings, which we are in our own right. Perhaps not kings exactly, but keepers of our realm.

Decision makers.

Overseers.

High priests ensuring the godliness of our domain.

Our stone manor spans the square, from the forest line on the eastside, to the Sanctuary on the west. Rising high behind the Homestead are the peaks of the Ember Glen mountains. Beautiful and shielding, the mountain range surrounding our valley village serves the purpose of keeping us separate from the outside world, protected from its evils.

I glance over my shoulder at the Sanctuary—the old cathedral on the westside of the square—before looking over at Theo. “You left Mercy Madness alone last night.”

“I did.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you have a thought about that, or are you just verifying facts?”

“I’m curious about it...You frequently claim her on nights of service.”

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