In the Open Cage

Chapter 22

"I don't know what made you so suspicious about me," Misa said to the officer holding her chain. She made sure to stick close to him. Bewitching him was the only chance she'd have to escape. The spell was already coursing through her, urging her to get closer to her captor.

The officer snorted, refusing to look at her. "You can babble about your innocence at the purgehouse. I know how you witches work."

Misa allowed hurt and fear to coat her voice. "But I'm not a witch." She needed him to look at her, to push him just enough for him to see a helpless young woman who got tangled up because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I swear, I was only curious." Misa glanced back at Bernt, who had two officers keeping watch on him. She had no idea how she'd get both herself and Bernt out of this situation. "I heard he had many riddles, and I wanted to hear one for myself. I'm very interested in wordplay and twisted logic, you see. Surely that's not a crime."

Misa studied the officer, whose scowl deepened at her excuses. He was probably several years older than Torren, with stubble lining his chin and a twisted nose that had once been broken. Her eyes trailed to his shoulders, where she noticed a green mark lining the jacket, strings of gold embroidered around the edges. She smiled wryly.

"I really do mean it, Lieutenant," she said, batting her lashes. "I would never dare to dabble in something as horrific as witchcraft."

Her use of his title had the desired effect. The lieutenant stumbled and looked at her with dark eyes wide in surprise. She let herself smile as her spell took hold, and from the feel of it, she knew she was pouring out almost all of the magic in her reservoir.

"Is something the matter?" one of the officers leading Bernt asked.

The lieutenant shook his head. "No," he replied rather harshly. "Move along."

He waited for the officers to drag Bernt ahead, still keeping his eyes locked on Misa. She gazed back from under her lashes.

"Who are you?" the lieutenant finally asked. He was still struggling against her spell, but Misa could feel her magic ensnaring him, piece by piece.

Misa shrugged. "Just a normal woman visiting the city. How was I supposed to know Bernt was tangled in such a mess?"

"Is that so?" The intensity of his stare softened. He had fallen into the pit of her trap. She swallowed bile when she felt his will seek for her command, a deep spirit within him reaching out for the magic emanating from Misa's body.

"Yes. I wouldn't lie to you." Misa took a step closer. He didn't move from her. She ran her hand along his shoulder, down his chest, until she reached the keys to her shackles that hung from his belt. She had no means to release him from her spell, and her only hope was that it would die away once she was free. Bewitchment was truly a sickening spell. The sooner she got rid of it, the sooner she'd be free from such a wicked chain.

The lieutenant stiffened under her touch. His face paled, eyes glazed. "No, of course not."

Her lips curled into a wicked smile. Misa felt like she had been flung out of her body, forced to watch herself seduce a lieutenant. She wanted so desperately for it to stop. For her to stop dangling the keys in front of the lieutenant, for her to stop asking him to undo her shackles. She had done enough, yet she was asking—demanding—the man to take off the very chains he had clasped around her wrists, like it was petty revenge.

When her wrists were free, Misa fled. She forced her legs to move, to get her as far from the lieutenant as possible. She couldn't stand what she'd done, even if the spell had worked on its own in response to her fear of the chopping block.