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“I haven’t,” she told him. “I remember my wedding day like it was yesterday. I remember everything.”

“Such a tragedy,” he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. The evening was becoming far more entertaining than he’d expected. “My condolences on your loss.” He waited a beat, allowing her nerves to tighten.

“What do you want, Jack?”

“As I said, you seem to have lost your way,” he told her. “Or perhaps you haven’t. You don’t have them fooled, you know.”

Ruby’s mouth was still pressed tight. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, moving forward. The items she was taking were still tucked beneath her cloak. But he stopped her, catching her by the arm.

Fear flashed through her bottle-green eyes, and Jack smiled, tightening his grip until he saw pain join it. “Your family really shouldn’t allow you to wander about unescorted,” he told her, keeping his tone easy.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Such language from a lady,” he mocked. “But I’d rather be a bastard than a corpse.”

She backed away from him then, and this time he allowed her. But as she passed him, he whispered a string of ancient syllables into the air. He felt the words, strange though the language was, bubble up from within him, wrap around them, and settle over the room.

Ruby stopped, and he saw her eyes go glassy.

“You seem a bit confused, Mrs. Barclay,” he said pleasantly, looping her arm through his again. “Please, do allow me to escort you.”

He allowed her to take the cloaks, because it suited his plan even better than he could have imagined, and then he led her quietly back the way they came. He left her standing in the entryway. “I assume you can see yourself out,” he told her, snapping his fingers and then walking away.

ANOTHER SUNSET

Viola waited under the cover of trees in the Grand Army Plaza, the portion of Central Park directly across from the Vanderbilt mansion. It was a ridiculous structure, all peaked rooflines and decorative gables, dark brick and smooth stone that glowed in the lamplight. At this time of night, the traffic on Fifty-Seventh Street was practically nonexistent, but it didn’t calm her any. She wouldn’t feel like she could breathe until the girl she loved was no longer in that nest of vipers.

Finally, she saw Ruby emerge from the front doors of the mansion, her blond curls glinting in the moonlight. She stopped just outside the door and waited beneath the enormous portico, her icy breath wreathing her head, until her carriage was brought around. Viola forced herself to be patient, and then, when the carriage departed, pulling up alongside the park, she made her move, using her affinity to make the driver drowse just enough that he wouldn’t notice her opening the door and slipping inside.

“What’s wrong?” Viola asked, her stomach turning at the expression Ruby wore. “What happened in there?”

“I’m not sure…” Ruby blinked at her, but there was a fuzziness in her eyes, like she was walking through a dream. “I got the robes.” She took the pile of fabric out from the folds of her thick velvet cloak and looked down at them as though she had never seen them before. “The members and their wives will all be wearing them. It should get everyone in safely.”

Viola took them and set them aside before squeezing onto the cushioned bench next to Ruby. She hated the way the black widow’s weeds made Ruby look drawn and pale, but tonight it was worse.

“Something happened,” Viola said, taking Ruby’s hands in hers.

“Your fingers are freezing,” Ruby told her, blinking away the last of whatever daze she’d been in.

“It’s winter,” Viola said with a shrug.

“You aren’t wearing nearly enough.” Ruby unfastened the neck of her cloak and opened it, adjusting herself so Viola could wrap it around herself as well.

Ruby’s hair smelled of flowers and her clothes of cigar smoke. On her breath, Viola could detect the sweetness of champagne. All of it, scents from a life she could not imagine.

But it didn’t seem to matter. With a contented sigh, Ruby settled into Viola. “I’ve missed you,” she said.

Glad for the darkness of the carriage, Viola felt her cheeks go warm. “I’m sure that big, soft bed of yours and all the servants have been a trial,” she told her.

Ruby chuckled. “Truly. They’re just awful.” Then her voice grew more serious. “It really is awful, Vee. I don’t belong there anymore. Maybe I never did.”

“This will be over tomorrow, and you can leave,” Viola told her. “You can go wherever you want.”

“I don’t think I’ll be leaving the city,” Ruby said, leaning her head into Viola’s.

Viola closed her eyes and savored the feel of the other girl against her. How easy it was to sit like this, together. How right. “Theo would want you to live your life,” she said finally, speaking through the tightness in her throat. “He told me about how happy you were in Paris. You should go.”

“I’m not leaving unless you come with me,” Ruby told her. She took Viola’s face softly between her hands.