Page 64 of House of Soot

My mind struggles to make sense of the scene before me.

"Lower the gun." Ronan's voice stays steady. "Whatever grievance you have?—"

"Grievance?" Blaise's laugh sends chills down my spine. "You still don't recognize me, do you?"

"Should I?" Ronan's gaze narrows. "You're just another guard who—" His words cut off as recognition floods his face. "You're supposed to be dead."

"Like my parents?" Blaise's finger tightens on the trigger. "The ones you murdered?"

The room spins.Parents? Murdered?"Your parents? What are you talking about?"

"Stay out of this, Jenna." Blaise doesn't look at me. "You've done enough damage."

Me?

“Blaise Ifrinn.” Ronan's voice holds a mix of shock and something else—fear?

It takes me a moment to register what he’s just said. Ifrinn. The family who lived here before. The family who died in the fire.

"But that's impossible," I whisper. "The Ifrinns died."

"Is that what they told you?" Blaise's question drips with bitterness. "Is that what you believed after you helped them murder my parents?"

Shock runs through me. "What? I never?—”

"Don't." Blaise cuts me off. "Don't pretend you're innocent. You showed him the passage. You helped him kill my parents."

What is he talking about?

Blaise turns his attention back to Ronan. "Life is full circle now. Here we are by the passage Jenna showed you that you used to kill my family, and now I’m going to use it to escape after I kill you."

“You won’t get away with this,” Ronan says with more confidence than I’d expect under the circumstances.

“As long as you're dead, I don’t care whether I get away with it or not.”

“No. You can’t. What are you doing?” I can’t make sense of any of this.

Blaise sneers at me. “I should have known that when it came to choosing between us, you’d choose him.”

My mind is whirling. “No. I love you. I don’t… Why are you doing this?”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. I used Ronan’s tried and true method with you. Sweet words, those tender moments. It was surprising how quickly you believed me."

Bile rises in my throat. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered 'I love you' were all lies. My hands drift to my still-flat stomach, where our baby grows. The baby he doesn't know about. The baby he’d clearly not care about.

"The sex was unexpected, though. You saved yourself for Ronan all those years, and I took that from you too."

Tears blur my vision. I think of our picnic in the woods, the nights spent wrapped in each other's arms, his comfort during my mother's surgery. "But you helped my mom?—”

“I did. I saved your mom even though you killed mine. I heard her screams as fire consumed her.” Tension rises as he adjusts his aim at Ronan. “You’re a sick motherfucker.”

“I’m not the one fucking the gardener as a means to?—”

“You hired me,” Blaise reminds him. “You’re so out of touch, you hired the guy whose family you killed, whose business you stole.”

It finally occurs to me that Blaise is accusing Ronan of starting the fire ten years ago.

“And you,” Blaise says to me. “You made it all happen when you showed Ronan how to get into my house. MY HOUSE! How dare you?—”