Page 64 of Muerte
“Don't look at other men. It's the fastest way to get yourself killed.”
Was Alexander that twisted? Another question I didn’t have the answer to. A question I wouldn’t be trying to find one for, either. While I couldn’t say for certain, my gut told me that the man whose name was carved into my thigh wouldn’t hesitate to take my life if he decided I deserved to die.
As we made our way back to the designated pick-up point, our steps echoing lightly on the cobblestone path, Nicolette's voice broke the stilted silence. Her tone was low, a hint of apology threading through her words. "I'm sorry about earlier," she murmured, her eyes scanning our surroundings with practiced vigilance.
"But please, always be aware of where you are and who's around you. Diabolus sees everything."
I glanced around, suddenly conscious of every shadow and every face we passed. Nicolette continued, her voice still a soft whisper. "The Isle…it's a citadel of surveillance and secrecy. Everywhere you look, there are eyes and ears. Cameras are embedded in the most obvious and most trivial places, capturing every movement."
I felt a knot form in my stomach as she elaborated, and she wasn’t done.
"Custodes Tenebrarum blend in with the crowd. And the tourists..." she paused, her gaze meeting mine, "they're monitored even more closely. Special devices, like mobiles or digital trackers, are given to them. It's all under the guise of convenience, but in reality, it's to keep track of their every step, especially if they wander too close to places they shouldn't."
Custodes Tenebrarum—guards, I translated. That wasn’t surprising. None of it was when I considered the lengths Alexander and his people would go to in order to protect their home. That didn’t stop the meticulous scrutiny from being any less suffocating.
I realized then that the sense of freedom I felt while walking through the town was an illusion. In this world, privacy was a myth, and control was absolute.
"You're walking a dangerous path, Nicole,” Esther warned softly.
They leveled one another with glares that had animosity crackling in the air. As we moved away from the ears of immediate onlookers, Nicolette’s voice dropped an octave lower. "She needs to know, Esther. She has to understand the stakes. Do you want her a Progenitor or at the Pleasure House?”
I glanced around and felt like an idiot checking our surroundings as the two women went back and forth. There was no way for me to see where a camera would be.
I couldn’t understand most of what they were talking about to have any relevant input, and I refused to side with either of them.
Esther was beloved and family to half of the men at the pinnacle of power. Upsetting or alienating her would’ve been stupid.
Nicolette, for all her brazenness, had been chosen to be by my side with her. That had to mean something. She was also the only one of the two willing to tell me things Esther seemed to want to keep quiet about, even at her own expense.
I got the feeling Nicolette wasn’t entirely on board with the way things were done here. That could prove beneficial.
So, naturally, I remained silent. I listened and took it all in, hoping they’d let something slip that could help me.
“Diabolus would never force her descent,” Esther replied evenly, surprising me with how cold her voice had become.
“I’m sure Clarice thought that too,” Nicolette volleyed back.
Clarice?
“That b—” Esther caught herself and sighed. “She betrayed our Diabolus, sealing her own fate.”
Nicolette scoffed. “And Melanie? What did she do?”
Both of those foreign names seemed to carry a weight of significance. "Who's Melanie?" I asked, but my question was ignored.
Instead, Esther attempted to steer the conversation away from these dangerous waters, her voice soothing yet firm.
"Lolita, there are things that you don't need to concern yourself with. it's not something you'll ever have to face."
Nicolette, however, wasn't one to mince words. "Devote. Obey. Don't break the rules. That’s how you stay safe here," she stated bluntly, her hardened gaze meeting mine. "Melanie was here first. She failed and wound up at the butcher’s block.”
No way. She couldn’t possibly mean the woman was literally sent to be butchered. I didn’t want to believe that. I couldn’t imagine it. But the look on Esther’s face gave me all the more reason to think it was true. I was pretty sure I’d just discovered what had happened to one of Alexander’s wives.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The drive to the Chapel was cloaked in silence, thick with unspoken questions and tension.
The tightness in the air held my tongue. I was almost relieved when I caught sight of the cathedral, its grandeur magnified in the daylight. That relief was quickly dampened by the memory of my last visit. I’d never be able to look at this place without seeing myself branded before a room of masked sociopaths.