Isadora's mind, which had been a maelstrom of fear and grief, suddenly became still. A way in. The words were a lifeline thrown into a raging sea, but the hand that threw it belonged to a devil.
She stared at Kasien, at his predator's smile and his ancient, golden eyes. She could see the trap laid out before her, beautiful and deadly, its teeth sharpened just for her. To accept his help would be to trade one monster for another, one cage for a different kind of servitude.
But Clara was in there.
"Why?" Isadora's voice was a low, rough whisper. "Why would you help me?"
Kasien's smile was a masterpiece of condescending charm. "Why does the fox help the hen cross the road? Perhaps he is a benevolent soul. Or perhaps he simply wants to know where the henhouse is."
