“Where is he?” Selena demanded from behind the gun barrel.

I gazed around, saw trunks, tables, and one bed—because the twins shared it. No Jack.

“You’re just in time,” Violet told us. “Our knave refused to turn the crank.” With a swish of her overblown skirts, she stepped aside, drawing back one last partition to reveal—

“Jack!” He knelt with his hands tied and hung above his head, like the other man. He was shirtless, his torso covered with bruises. He seemed to be in and out of consciousness, trying to raise his lolling head.

His arms were dislocated, the right side of his face bloodied. They’d been hitting him with the brass-knuckles on their left hands.

I choked on a breath. That symbol had been branded into Jack’s chest, over his heart.

The twins had met up—they’d started his torture. They’d burned the smooth skin that I’d sighed against and kissed.

They’d branded my Jack.

As I imagined that ungodly pain, my glyphs went ablaze, radiating through my clothes. Rage pumped inside me. My rose crown slithered around my head and neck as I grew stronger.

These two Arcana were not just going to die; the red witch would make them die bloody.

Selena was ice cold as she aimed her gun. “We’ll be taking him now.”

“Notice something?” Violet grabbed Jack’s hair with her free hand. He didn’t react, now completely out. She yanked his head back, exposing a metal collar around his neck, with wires attached and a railroad spike jutting from the loop. “If anything happens to me and I release this pressure sensor”—she raised that remote control—“the hunter gets the spike. Then it’s game over.”

Dread overran me, and I fought to rein in the witch, to call back my fury.

“If you want him to live, drop the gun, Archer.” Vincent motioned toward her weapon. “And kick it over here.”

Outwardly cool, Selena complied. Then she eyed the twins with deadly intent, waiting for her opening.

Vincent swooped up the gun, smiling at his sister. “It never fails. Control the beloved, control the lover.”

Violet smiled back, releasing Jack. “We go into a person’s heart and see who it aches for. Then we enslave both lovers.”

Vincent stowed the gun in his waistband, turning to me and Selena. “Imagine our surprise when we discovered the hunter loves the Empress. Could it be requited? We heard your call nearing and we knew—”

“—you were here to save him,” Violet continued seamlessly. “Our soldiers might have failed to seize you in the stone forest, but we forced you to come to us. We can control you utterly, because of how you feel about Deveaux.”

They were crazy—and that made them hard to gauge—but I didn’t detect true animosity toward Selena. Me? They seemed to despise me.

“But I sense something else.” Violet’s eyes widened. “Your love is diluted! Another makes claim to your heart. And not just anyone!”

Vincent laughed. “It’s her old nemesis!”

The twins found this astounding. Which, I guessed, it was.

“Unfortunately, we only have one of the men you love,” Vincent said. “For now.”

Violet frowned at Selena. “The Archer loves the hunter as well? What’s so special about him? All he does is steal.” When she slapped Jack’s face, my claws ached to plunge into her neck like hypodermic needles. “Oh dear. He’s gone under again. The selfish man only wakes for his beatings. Which clearly means those are his favorites!”

“We gave you the choice,” Vincent told an unconscious Jack. “Torture or be tortured? You mortals always choose incorrectly, until we introduce you to pain, enlightening you. Then you never choose the same!”

I furtively clawed my palms, dripping blood onto the ground. Vines could sneak beneath Violet, then shoot up to secure that sensor. But the risk . . .

Selena had no such qualms, was inching closer, soundless over the sawdust. With her superhuman reflexes, could she strike before Violet reacted?

“So how should we enlighten him?” Violet tapped her chin with a polished black nail. “The Pear of Anguish, the Scavenger’s Daughter, the Heretic’s Fork, or the Spanish Spider? Or we could simply maim.”

“Excellent idea, Vi. His hunter’s eyes have watched us so closely, I’m keen to scoop them out.” He crossed to a nearby table, turning on a portable camping burner. A charred tablespoon lay beside it.

A knot tightened in my stomach when he raised the utensil over the flame. While it heated, he cast me a casual, la-di-da smile—as if he waited for a coffeemaker to finish a pot.

But Selena closed in on striking range. I needed to distract the twins. “Why do you do it? Why torture?”

“To practice our craft, exploring the pains and pleasures of the flesh,” Vincent said. “We are tools used by The First. The First will learn through us.”

“First?” Watching the Archer eerily stalk her prey made me glad she was on my side.

Vincent turned the spoon. “The Hallowed First, whom we serve.”

“I don’t understand.”

He exhaled. “What we hear is heard. What we see is seen. What we know is known.” If you say so. “But we soon developed a taste for torture, because we’re Arcana.”

Insane twin logic. “That doesn’t mean you have to torture.”

“Did the Hierophant and the Alchemist die peacefully?” Vincent’s expression was superior.

Both had died in agony. “I acted in self-defense—for no other reason.” Yet hadn’t the red witch gotten a high from the kills?

Violet snapped, “You enjoyed it enough in the last game!” Finally, unconcealed emotion from her. “I doubt your tastes have changed.”

“What are you talking about?”

When she gazed at Vincent, his pale irises briefly turned black. “Tell her. The First will see her reaction.”

“It’s you,” Violet hissed. “We practice torture—for you.”

12

“Didn’t you ever wonder why we marched on Haven?” Vincent asked me. “We planned to make you a prisoner of our love, getting our revenge. But this is even better. We know how much harder it is to see a loved one tormented. You taught us that.”

Me?

Violet added, “You once told us, ‘Love is the most destructive force in the universe.’ You were right.”