Sinner's Heart

voice and didn’t care. He was a man grown, beholden to no one and nothing.

“What will it take to break the haze of debauchery that surrounds you? Another death? The earth splitting open and catching fire? Wait long enough, and all of that will come to pass. But by then, it will be too late.”

He slammed his glass down onto a table. “I exorcised my conscience decades ago. The position doesn’t need filling.” He turned away.

Yet she now appeared right in front of him, her dark brows drawn down, her hands curled into fists.

“Stop running and listen to me—”

“No!” he roared. “Not another bloody word! I order it.”

She stared at him coldly. “I’m not a soldier to be commanded. I’m not one of your empty-eyed strumpets, either.”

“What you are is a goddamn plague. And I want you gone.”

Her teeth clenched. “I. Can’t. Leave. Whatever binds us together, it can’t be broken.”

“You haven’t really tried.”

Her eyes blazed and she whirled around the room. In her fury, she was something from ancient legend, awful and beautiful. “Don’t you ever question me!”

“If you’re no vacuous harlot,” he drawled, “then I’m no fearful acolyte. This temper tantrum is wearisome. As you are.” He tilted his head, considering. “But I’ve resources at my disposal. For enough coin, I could get a priest to exorcise you.”

She snorted. “A feeble ritual with no true power. All the strength of that faith has been gutted. It’s now nothing but blind devotion to empty ceremony. Not even the priests believe.”

“I’ve another power to call upon.” He smiled cruelly as her eyes widened.

“Don’t—”

“Haven’t we established that I never respond to commands?” His gaze holding hers, he spoke with deliberation. “Veni, geminus.”

The candles guttered, the fire dimmed. Shadows engulfed the chamber. Only Livia’s illumination remained constant. The scent of burnt paper rose up to the ceiling, curling amongst the molded plasterwork.

From the darkness, a shape emerged. A man.

Bram relit the candle. He turned to the newcomer. The man stepped nearer, revealing his elegant evening clothes of burgundy velvet, a baronial signet ring on his hand that rested on the pommel of a dress sword. He had Bram’s height, his size and form, his dark, unpowdered hair, his bright blue eyes. In every respect, he looked exactly like Bram.

His twin.

Born from the darkest part of himself when he struck his bargain with the Devil. The other Hellraisers, Whit and Leo, had been stunned and appalled when they finally discovered that their gemini were their doubles. Doubles who did wicked deeds, all whilst wearing their faces. Whit had alluded to it when they had all met on St. George’s Fields, and Leo had made his revelation clear when they had gathered outside his home weeks ago.

But Bram never shared in Leo and Whit’s horror. He’d known all along exactly what the creature was, what it meant. And he hadn’t cared.

“My lord,” the geminus said, bowing. It was Bram’s voice, Bram’s bow. “How may I serve you this night?”

Bram pointed at Livia. “Get rid of her.”

Livia spun to face the geminus, readying herself for battle. She had little desire to be bound to Bram, but the creature’s method of removal was guaranteed to be unpleasant. She led the cause against the geminus’s master. Of a certain, it would try to destroy her.

She reached for her magic, an ancient spell stolen from the wild lands to north, preparing to fight the creature.

Yet, before she could summon her power, the geminus stared at her and stumbled back. It blanched, eyes round, its mouth open. It held its hands up, as if to ward her back.

The thing was frightened. Of her.

“No!” the geminus cried. “Keep her from me!”

Bram scowled. “I told you to get her out of here. You’ve magic of your own. Do it.”

The creature only shook its head, scuttling backward until it collided with the wall. Livia stared at it, baffled by its fear. Stranger still was seeing Bram, or something that looked and sounded exactly like Bram, cringing in terror. So very unlike him.

“I command you—”

“No!” the geminus shouted again. “She is a danger! The greatest danger!” It glanced wildly between her and Bram.

And disappeared.

For a moment, she and Bram simply gazed at the spot where the geminus had cowered. Then they looked at one another.

“The hell?” he growled.

“Twice I’ve helped kill gemini. Doubtless that’s earned me a reputation.” She couldn’t keep the smugness from her voice, but it had been far too long since she’d held an advantage over the Dark One. She needed to keep herself from complacency, however. This was a very minor victory in a much bigger war.

“Marvelous,” Bram drawled. “I’m shackled to Devil’s biggest adversary.”

She whirled on him. “You rat-eating bastard! That creature might have destroyed me.”

“Yet here you are. Safe as virgin in a library.”

“But you didn’t know that when you summoned it.” Fury poured through her. “Is my presence such an inconvenience to your debauchery? Are you too concerned that I’ll disrupt your pursuit of quim? Distract your cock just as it’s about to spend?” She sneered. “Poor Bram. All he wants is to fuck himself into oblivion, but the fate of millions of souls keeps intruding. What a nuisance.”

His face twisted with cold rage. “Quiet.”

“I’ve never been quiet,” she snapped. “Not in life, and most assuredly not in death. And I vow to you, vow, that someday I’ll make you pay.”

“Why wait?” Bram planted his hands on his hips and tilted his chin. “Do your worst, Madam Ghost. For nothing can match the hell I’m in now.”

Anger surged in hot waves, and she embraced it. She’d been trapped within this half state of being, without substance, without feeling, battling an enemy that was and always would be more powerful than she. Mighty men once trembled before her, kneeling in supplication, begging for her aid. Her, a daughter of Rome, a priestess of incalculable strength. Now brought to the lowest kind of existence, and lashed to a man of boundless self- interest.

It was intolerable. Galling. A wound that could never heal.

At that moment, she didn’t care if Bram was crucial to the fight against the Dark One. All she wanted was to hurt him, as she hurt.

“That is one order I’m happy to obey,” she spat. Energy swirled within her, magic she could wield like the fiercest weapon. Once, she had studied ancient scrolls to learn the proper incantations, but she no longer needed papyrus or words. The magic had imbued her very blood. Even in this spectral state, she had power few could match. She had given a Gypsy woman the means to control fire, and bestowed command over air to an English girl.

“I’ve razed buildings of stone,” she snarled. “Torn demons apart with just a wave of my hand. I was the woman who first summoned the Dark One. You are nothing.”

“Tear me to shreds, Madam Ghost.” Challenge glinted in his glass-blue eyes. “The only people who’ll mind are my servants, and simply because of the mess.”

She raised her hands, gathering her power. An Egyptian killing spell, the Summoning of Seth. Bright energy poured from her palms and shot toward him. He did not move from where he stood, waiting.

Before the stream of energy could hit him, it veered away like a bird with a broken wing. It collided with a