Page 22 of Blackwicket (Dark Hall #1)

Sitting at that private table in The Vapors, a place I didn’t belong, I realized I had no plan. I’d been shoved in Thea’s orbit too abruptly and hadn’t expected William’s presence.

“Never dead,” I said, response clipped.

“Clearly.”

William cleared his throat and Thea clicked her tongue in response.

“This spoilsport never lets me tease anyone anymore, and it’s one of my greatest talents.”

“Your magic.” I pulled the conversation in a direction that would lead somewhere. “I’ve never seen anyone with such remarkable control over it.”

“Well, Fiona is who you can thank,” Thea said, before remembering Fiona was gone. She stopped short, all hardness fleeing from her expression. “I barely knew how to handle it until she gave me a few lessons.”

I found it in myself to offer a small smile.

“She was a great encourager.”

“She was a great many things.” Thea gave no smile in return. “What are your plans while you’re here in Nightglass, Eleanora? I heard you cancelled the service.”

I wouldn’t let Thea throw me off course .

“Yes.” I shared no further explanation.“It’s so rare to meet a natural magic user. Does it run in your family?”

“Thea comes from a very prominent magical genealogy,” William answered in her stead. “I’m lucky to have acquired her. It’s hard to find someone whose magic hasn’t gone to rot.”

Discomfiture squirmed near my navel, and I resisted the urge to clench the tablecloth. Grigori Nightglass once spoke these exact words to my mother. It was becoming more and more difficult to hope that William hadn’t chosen to stand in the shadow of his horrible lineage.

The server returned with three different drinks—something golden brown, lacking frills for William, a martini for Thea.

When he presented mine, the color of the liquid inside put me off.

It was pink, but not the dreamy hue of cotton candy or the taffy from Galton’s, but the shade of diluted blood, the scent pungently sweet.

“What’s this?”

I placed my fingers on the cool glass, wanting to prove I was game to at least try it, if not for any other reason than to avoid offending the woman who might know something about Fiona’s child.

“Go on, doll, it’s not strong. I had Phillip put in half the amount of vodka it calls for.” Condescension poisoned this confession. As I brought the drink to my lips, I wondered how Fiona became friends with someone like this.

The drink bit into my tongue, its sweet notes demanding, the tartness of citrus overpowering.

There was something else, something the overbearing flavors were trying to mask, and it spread in my throat.

I coughed, pulling the glass away, yanking my head sideways as a jolt of panicked magic rose to eject the curse crawling from my drink.

It was feeble, and slid from my mouth like a miniature squid, retreating into its pink haven, where it curled around the shadows of the ice cubes at the bottom. I gagged, coughed again.

“Not bad,” Thea said, reluctant to compliment me, even for something as basic as avoiding the ingestion of a curse-laced drink.

“Not at all,” William responded, a sultry edge in the reply as he watched me try to catch my breath, eyes watering.

“You’re the first person outside Fiona who didn’t just swallow that straight down.” Thea took a sip of her own cocktail.

“I didn’t come here to be drugged,” I rasped.

“Just a little test,” William said. “Not enough to do any actual harm, especially not to you.”

I slammed the glass down, bright pink sloshing over the rim. “This is beneath you, William Nightglass. Leave those tactics to the Brom.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat and raising his hands in a brief gesture of waiting, allowing me time to process my own words. My blood ran cold.

“You’re lying.”

“Come on, Ellie.” William shook his head, impatient with my indignation. “There’s no need for a disguise of righteousness. You’ve been running from the reach of the Authority for years. Beyond that incredible display in Devin, who knows what you’ve been up to.”

The cadence of his tone suggested he knew exactly.

“Your shame doesn’t serve you here. We embrace magic. People travel from everywhere for this freedom. They fill the hole in their souls the Authority left when they enacted their ridiculous ban. Look around you.”

He swept his arm wide, indicating the theater, the crowd filling its tables. A sense of wellness and wholeness lingered here, unlike the streets beyond the doors, where the very air felt fractured .

“Magic begs to be used, Eleanora. We’ve made a business of doing just that. The Authority doesn’t bother us; in fact, some of them are patrons. Frequent ones.”

This moment revealed my position, the part that William saw me playing.

“What did my sister have to do with all of this?” I demanded.

William’s composed presence altered, and he appeared pained for a moment. He observed the crowd, the tightness of his expression belying some inner battle.

“So much,” he replied at length, reverence ringing with a sadness I felt more than heard.

It wound from him, dark and dense. He pulled himself together, one man becoming another in the blink of an eye.

When he met my gaze, the tenderness was gone, and he was once more William, Grigori Nightglass’ heir.

“But the world moves on and leaves us holding our grief alone. Whether we allow it to drown us is our own choice. People depend on me, on Thea, and we won’t forsake them. ”

Thea remained silent throughout the entire conversation. Sipping her drink, she observed her band as they finished their set and prepared for the next, to the light applause of the crowd. At the mention of her name, a muscle near her ear twitched, as though she were clenching her teeth.

“We’re missing something,” William said, holding my gaze, the ghost of a grin on his handsome mouth. He resembled a man prepared to tell me a secret I didn’t want to hear. “We’re sorely lacking someone familiar with the ins and outs of the darker side of this beautiful project.”

I had no reason to pretend I didn’t know what he meant.

“You need a Curse Eater.”

“Thea, unfortunately, never learned how to do it.” Here, Thea finally engaged, beginning to protest the criticism. William held a finger up, halting her. “While I’m confident you’re capable, Eleanora is a stronger candidate, and you know it.”

Thea James leveled an acrid look on me. She did know it, and she wasn’t happy.

Discomfort and disgust crowded together too tight to stay in me any longer. Laughter seemed the safest way to express it, so I let out a chortle that mismatched the emotional weight of this meeting. “I’m not going to curse eat for the Brom.”

I looked between them, my bravery gathering as rage simmered.

“You’re insane believing you could tell me you’d been using my sister as your filtration system for all of this bullshit you’ve been shoveling in this godforsaken town, and expect me to jump in and fill her position as eager as a bitch in heat.

” My volume intensified, and several heads turned our direction.

“You’re a fool, William Nightglass. Whatever you were to Fiona, I know it ended, and now I can clearly see why. ”

“Hm.” It was William’s only reply to my pronouncement.

He stood, using his cane for support, and I maintained my glare as he walked to my chair, lifting a hand as he approached.

A slinking, luminous magic gathered on his fingers, growing from William in a way I’d never seen him capable of.

The smoky edges of it formed the amorphous shape of a flower, solidifying into a bloom, silky white petals gleaming.

Despite my rage, the action mesmerizing me.

I’d deprived myself too long of the little pleasures of creating, of bending magic to build small, meaningless tokens.

My mother had done it often, for no other purpose than to spread goodwill and joy.

Resentment lived in my heart for the ways even such minor miracles were denied to Fiona and me by the changing landscape of magical law.

I battled the awe attempting to upend my contempt, the draw of something that once meant everything.

William caught sight of my weakness, ever observant.

“This is how it could be, Eleanora. We could all feel this again,” he said, twirling the blossom between his fingers before gingerly tucking it in the curl near my ear.

The magnetism of his magic attracted even more attention to our table, a testament to how void human life had become.

To my further surprise, he bent, pressing a tender kiss to my temple, murmuring, “Consider it, and please continue to visit and experience what good we do. You’ve been sorely missed. ”

He straightened, nodding to Thea his goodbyes.

“I’m sorry to leave you both so soon, but I have an important matter to see to. Enjoy your evening.”

He departed in his steady, stiff gait, practically every eye in the place following him.

“What a mess you’ve walked into, Eleanora,” Thea said softly, her thorny exterior melting a fraction. She massaged her forehead against an oncoming headache.

“You were Fiona’s friend.” I gave her no room to deny it.

“I was,” she replied, taking up my abandoned drink.

She knocked it back in three long pulls.

I regarded her with a mix of horror and fascination as the shadowy curse slipped into the darkness of her mouth.

She swallowed. The involuntary pull of breath came at last as the curse found its way.

She held it, as though waiting for something ecstatic.

After a heartbeat, her lips parted, and a white mist rose like glittering smoke.

It dissipated, vapor rising from a stormy sea.

Thea James could curse eat.

“Apparently, William isn’t aware you can do that,” I said. The unraveling of the tainted magic had been smooth, uncomplicated, and well-practiced. Fiona had indeed been a good teacher.

“What William doesn’t know can’t hurt me.” Her red lips twisted slightly. “This drink truly is disgusting.”

As I was about to challenge why she’d so readily agreed to give it to me, she leaned close .

“Listen, it’s important you’re aware the Nightglass family is starving for adept Curse Eaters.

I’m sure you’re aware there aren’t many left, and that makes you the most delicious thing to cross their path since Fiona.

If I were you, I’d hop on the next train, and I’d do it right after you walk out the door of my club. ”

She’d already looked away, dismissive, when I took the photos from my pocket, sliding them across to her. She glanced at them, stiffened, her spine straightening as though a steel rod had been shoved through the top of her neck.

“My sister’s son,” I asked, low. “Where is he?”

“Fiona didn’t have a son,” Thea replied tersely, less composed, scanning the clientele in search of danger.

“Then whose child is this?” I tapped the photo, demanding.

Thea stood, the table rocking with the suddenness of the motion, and she smiled, the expression bright, unwavering, and perfectly painted.

She ran a touch down the length of her beaded dress, as though smoothing it, but this motion signified more.

It was a pose, body angled to accentuate the line of her waist. She hummed, not a song, but a single note of music.

The minute pulse of magic that emanated from the sound encouraged the nearest tables, which had yet to fully lose interest since my outburst, to relax and return to their conversations and drinks.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” she said, false cheer in her voice to match her face. “Leave and stay gone. Your sister’s dead. There’s nothing left for you here.”

When she waved to the band leader, signaling she’d return to the stage, her fingers trembled.

“Thea, please.” I stood as well, touching her wrist lightly, ready to beg, then happened to glance over her shoulder.

There, watching from a shadow-dense corner of an already dim theater hall, was Inspector Harrow.

He leaned casually against a nearby wall, half-empty glass in hand, glaring at me like a snake from beneath a rock.

I snatched my touch from Thea, my sudden change in demeanor pulled her brows low, and she followed my gaze.

“Oh, honey,” she said. “I really hope you don’t know that guy.”

“Do you?” I asked, breathy with the need to understand how the Inspector fit in here, in this awful, beautiful little world my sister had inhabited.

“He’s a brute.” Her reply was emphatic. “Bad news all around.”

“He’s Authority.” As I said it, I grew stupefied with my naiveté. William said the Authority frequented this club.

“Is he on your tail?”

“I have to go,” I said, unable to bear being stared at by a man who held portions of my future, my safety, in the palm of his hand. One who’d seen me waltz into the den of the Brom, sit at their table to drink, and be kissed by their shining prince.

Our roles reversed when Thea reached out to take my hand in hers, stepping close, her movements evocative. The tilt of her chin was sensual, and she brushed two fingers along my jaw. She smelled of jasmine, rose powder, and heady, moonlit magic.

“Come back tomorrow night,” she crooned. “Wait until dark, take the alley to the staff door. Wear something sexy, they won’t blink an eye at you. They’ll assume you’re here to meet a client.”

“A client? ”

She shook her head, a practically imperceptible movement, warning me to play my part.

“You’re too deep in this to be worrying about your reputation.

I’ll meet you and tell you everything I can.

Until then, you look out for yourself. There are too many people interested in you for all the wrong reasons.

” She tapped my chin playfully, but it was caution disguised as flirtation.

She hummed again, the beginnings of a tune this time, slow and mournful, as she moved away from me, warming her magic for the performance ahead.

The resulting energy of it pleased the audience and vibrated in my marrow.

I was wary of engaging in these games, but knew Thea was an expert in moving through this world. If I ever wanted to find out what had happened to my sister and the son she never had, I’d have to follow her lead.

Before I took my leave, shaken by the events of the evening, I looked for the Inspector, planning on giving him plenty of room, but he’d already gone.