The Devil in Her Bed (Devil You Know #3) - Kerrigan Byrne Page 0,60

wound before the stag-headed men relieved him of the dagger and escorted him out.

They didn’t follow him, but closed the door behind him and returned to their half-moon arc around her.

Sacrifice, indeed. Francesca rolled her eyes and let out a trapped breath on a sigh that was equal parts relieved and deflated as the chamber orchestra struck up their seductive melody once again.

If ever there was a good time for an anticlimax, this was it. She didn’t have to watch anyone die.

“Do I sense a bit of disappointment in you, Countess?” Kenway drifted forward and inquired sotto voce. “He was your enemy, was he not?”

Francesca knew she must answer carefully so as not to give herself away.

He saved her from having to reply. “What would you have done to him, I wonder? Would you have put him back in the cage from which he has been freed?”

Her temper rose at the thought of his freedom as she remembered those innocent girls locked away for weeks.

“Would you have seen him hanged?” Kenway continued with a malicious glee. “Put him in front of a firing squad? Tell me, Francesca, what your most dangerous desire would be. If it would not stain your soul. Would you watch him die as your family died?”

Kenway knew, she realized with a twist of terror. He knew that she’d found the Lord Chancellor in the safe house and interrogated him for information. Which meant he knew what the Lord Chancellor had revealed to her.

Now more than ever, it was important that she remain unaffected. “What happens to Sir Hubert means nothing to me,” she said with as much flippancy as she could muster. “Feed him to the dogs if you will. I’ve more pressing concerns.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the state of these men and women?” She motioned to the naked servants. “You shame and degrade them, and what have they done? Would you do the same to me if I were to accept your proposal? Is this how I would have to show devotion? Because I think not.”

A mirthless laugh rolled from beneath his mask, and she wanted to rip it away so she could read the evil in his eyes.

“Darling, there are those who would be always prey. They sometimes devote themselves to the strong, and we allow it. These are our aspirants. They beg to be on their knees for us, so when our time comes to take power, they will be by our side instead of beneath our feet. It is how they show their devotion.” He leaned closer. “You show your devotion by witnessing what you witness tonight, and keeping it silent.”

Bile rose in Francesca’s throat. This … this was sick. Perverse. Profane. She watched how the crowd now milled with excitement. Little groups began to form, heads together, whispering intimacies in unlikely animalian clusters.

Expectancy still hovered in the air, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what sorts of things would happen next.

Her parents had something to do with this? Were they like these servants? The thought made her ill.

“Now, my dear, let us prepare for the next night.”

“The next?”

“We meet for three nights every three years for this particular three-part ritual. Of course, the most important work is done beyond these walls. However, three is a very auspicious number, and I daresay the second night is our favorite.”

She was almost afraid to ask. “What is the second night?”

“The second night”—he put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face the crescent of patiently waiting stags—”is Desire.”

Whatever motion Kenway made from behind her, it was a command.

Because all of the stag-headed men shucked their white robes, uncovering the bodies of seven would-be gods.

Stunned, Francesca gaped.

Exquisite, they were, each in their own way. An overabundance of masculinity, nay an assault of savage beauty. Mounds of muscle shone in the wan glow, creating grooves and shadows as they were flexed and displayed. Each man was larger and lovelier than the last. Some had dark hair, others fair. A few had little at all. Some were older, grizzled and hard. Others young and eager and also—she swallowed as she looked down—hard.

They all wanted her. That much was physically obvious. And for every moment of this night that was wrong, Kenway had been right about one thing.

The power of it was heady.

Francesca still struggled to process it all when Kenway nudged her forward. “They are here for you, Countess. To tempt you. To pleasure you. They must show devotion by devoting themselves to