His tableau appeared over him, upside down, but crystal clear.

At last, I faced one of the source twins.

Vincent was a far cry from his tall, flawless carnates. His real body was somehow both scrawny and pudgy, his skin jaundiced and slicked with oil. His black hair was matted, his sleeveless T-shirt and jeans bloodstained. Scars and new slices covered his arms—from his bloodletting.

He’d created carnates with his idealized appearance. Vain? Oh yeah.

I couldn’t wait to see the real Violet. “Admit it: you Photoshopped your carnates.”

“Do you really want to go there about appearances?” Even his voice was higher pitched than his carnates’. “You’re covered in blood. Surprisingly it’s your own this time.”

That was fair. “Where are your sister and Selena?”

“I’m taking you to them.” He motioned for me to walk with him.

I did, deciding to play along while I recharged and healed. I would come up with a plan to get that sensor, take out the twins, and get back to Aric and Jack.

Vincent and I strolled side by side down the hall, like we were heading to class. As if I wouldn’t kill him at the first opportunity. As if he wasn’t imagining how he’d first make me scream.

As if Baggers hadn’t just eaten his father.

The calm before the storm. Both Vincent and I knew it.

“Why paint those particular words?” My voice was thick from throwing up and screaming.

“So Violet and I never forget the power we wield.”

“And that is?”

“We control the most destructive force in the universe.”

I was done hearing that. “I was wrong when I said that about love.”

He scowled. “Of course it’s the most destructive force—it’s our power. Love begets violence, murder, and war. Why else would mortals equate it with such horrible things?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sunstruck, moonstruck, and lovestruck all mean maddened. We fear storm breaks and heart breaks. We fall blind, fall into a trap, fall sick, fall madly in love. Why not rise in love?”

I had no answer for that. I didn’t know exactly how to describe love—just knew his idea of it was perverse.

“If shot through the heart with an arrow, you get lovesick. Sounds painful, doesn’t it?” With his free hand, he pulled the collar of his shirt higher, rolling his head on his neck. “And smitten? One touch of the dart, and an invisible affliction smites you down.”

“Love hurts. I get it.”

He grinned; I grimaced. His yellowed teeth resembled his father’s. “You hurt right now, Empress. Your love isn’t diluted anymore. It’s divided—between the hunter and Death.”

Somewhere in this lair, Aric fought tirelessly for me. I did love him. As I loved Jack.

“It’s complicated.” My answer of the month.

“You broke our rules by bringing Death here. But I’m glad you did. Now we have two beloved to use against you. Perhaps we should take them alive.” Vincent’s gaze went blank, his irises turning black.

“You’re seeing through your carnates’ eyes right now.”

“We are.”

—Sievā, open your mind to me!—

Aric! I’m okay for now. Are you and Jack?

—Engaged at present.—

I’m with Vincent. Can’t find Selena or Violet.

—I’m coming for you soon. Hold tight.—

I can stall.

No answer.

Vincent’s eyes had cleared. “Have you remembered our history?”

I shook my aching head. “But when Death translates your chronicles, I’ll read all about it.”

“Our carnates are retrieving our stolen property from your horses as we speak.”

“From the Reaper’s armored mount?” I had to laugh. “All the best with that.” They had better hope they couldn’t catch that stallion. Thanatos bench pressed three eighty and made Bagger Spam with his hooves. “Why are those chronicles so important to you?”

“Our earliest memories are of Father reading them to us, each night before we went to sleep.” Blood-drenched bedtime stories. “We’re sentimental.”

Sentimental? “Because of you and your sister, your dad is being digested right now.”

He nodded. “Today we loved our father. We loved our mother as we began these new incarnations.” Had she died in childbirth?

A suspicion arose. “Vincent, have you ever left this place?”

He blinked. “Why would we?”

At my disbelieving expression, he explained, “Our father bought the Shrine when our mother was pregnant with us—just in case his children would ring in a new game, and a new catastrophe. As soon as he found out we were twins, he knew the game was starting. We’ve been safe within here since before we were born.”

The twins had never felt the sun on their own skin?

He pointed toward a doorway. “In there.”

Again, I made the decision to go along with him.

Once we’d crossed the raised threshold, he shut the door behind him. Never taking his finger from the sensor, he locked us in with a combination I didn’t see. I was trapped with him?

He was trapped with me.

Come, Lover, touch . . .

He’d taken me to a sizable game room. Against one wall stood a fridge, a microwave station and sink beside it. A trashcan overflowed with frozen food packages and empty potato chip bags. Clothes were wadded up around it.