“Rosalind.”
His tone made her stomach drop, and she turned, tentatively approaching across the corridor. Inside a cell, a man lay chained to a post. A hawthorn stake protruded from his shoulder, and his blond hair hung in his face. Deep bruises and gashes covered his body. Malphas.
At the sight of him, Rosalind’s body began to shake. Josiah had completely brutalized him.
Caine ripped an iron chain from Malphus.
“Is he alive?” her voice cracked.
“Barely.”
“Can you use your magic to heal him?”
“No. It only works on humans.”
“What can I do?” she asked in desperation. “Can I heal him?”
“Not as long as he’s unconscious. I think you should get out of here and leave me to sort this out on my own. Go find Miranda if you can, bring her to safety, and get out of the building.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she turned to walk out of the room, crossing her arms. She’d been a part of that, and the guilt ate at her.
She walked further down the corridor, peering in each room for signs of Miranda. An eerie silence had descended—the only sound filling the hall was the distant rattle of Malphus’s chains as Caine pulled them off, and the steady dripping of water. All of a sudden, her own breath sounded deafening.
She was about to meet Miranda, her own twin. The fact that Miranda hadn’t run from her cell like everyone else was already making her stomach lurch. In the best case scenario, Miranda was unhurt, but in all likelihood she hated Rosalind. Why wouldn’t she? Rosalind had sent her here.
Rosalind peered into a cell, expecting another empty room, but what she saw stopped her heart. Miranda—her mirror image—sat bound to a chair with an iron chain. She wore a ragged green dress, and faint bruises covered her skin. She looked exactly like Rosalind, except a network of ridged scars ran over her arms. This wasn’t how a reunion of long-lost sisters was supposed to be. Still, at least she was alive.
Miranda blinked, staring at Rosalind. “You came for me.” Her voice sounded small.
Rosalind rushed over to her, bending over to give her sister a hug. “I’m so sorry, Miranda. I didn’t know it was you.”
“Didn’t know what was me?”
“I told the Brotherhood about the sea witch. I didn’t know it was you. I was an idiot. I didn’t know anything. I get it now. I’m not with the Brotherhood anymore.” Her words tumbled out in a panicked rush, like she was some kind of maniac.
“Oh. I was looking for you.” Miranda shifted in her chains. “Can you get the key, please? They left it on the floor where I could see it. But I can’t reach it.”
“Of course.” Like an asshole, Rosalind had been blubbering to her sister instead of freeing her. She snatched a metal key from the ground, rushing around to slide it into the lock. She turned it, and it clicked open, releasing the chains. They fell to the floor in a heap.
Miranda sighed with relief, rubbing her arms.
“Do you need help walking?” Rosalind offered her arm.
Miranda took it, groaning slightly as she stood, and Rosalind led her into the corridor.
Rosalind eyed her sister’s scars, and the collarbone that protruded from her chest. It looked like it had broken and healed over not long before. “Did Josiah do this to you?”
“Do what?” Miranda asked distractedly, wincing at the flashing lights.
“The scars and the beatings. Someone hurt you. I’m guessing it was Josiah.”
Miranda glanced at her arms, as if seeing the damage for the first time. “Oh. That. Mostly Josiah, and Randolph. They were in my room a lot.”
Rosalind felt sick. Where the fuck was Josiah anyway? She wanted to punch his face through the back of his head. “I didn’t know what Josiah was like.” She had a sudden desire to confess everything to Miranda, to try to explain herself. “I didn’t know that he was a psycho.”
Miranda squeezed her arm. “People aren’t always what they seem.”
They drew closer to Malphus’s cell, and Rosalind peered into the room. Cain kneeled over the other incubus, and at her approach he glanced up.
His face brightened when he caught sight of Miranda. “Thank the gods. You’re okay.”
“Rosalind came for me.” She pointed to Malphus. “Is he dead?” she asked sweetly.
Rosalind was starting to get the impression that Josiah had beaten some of the “normal human behavior” out of her sister, but Miranda would get better with time. She just needed to get out of this hellhole to recuperate.
“He’s alive,” Caine said. “I’m setting some of his broken bones before I move him. Go outside and wait for me. I’ll bring him upstairs in a few minutes.”
Rosalind gently pulled Miranda’s arm, and they continued down the corridor, passing one empty cell after another.