Page 33 of Blackwicket (Dark Hall #1)
Thea’s voice was thick with something—frustration, grief, I couldn’t determine. My sister’s dress suddenly felt overtight on my body, constricting me with the responsibilities she’d shouldered because her heart had been too big for her own good.
“But things started to go wrong, people went missing: clients, customers, and a few of our own guys. Gone. It was getting more and more dangerous to do the devil’s work, but the devil didn’t care.
” Thea raised a shoulder, as if she could shrug off the horror of everything she must have been living.
“Grigori was an old bastard, but he was putty in your sister’s hands.
Fiona knew how to handle the Nightglass men, how to sweet-talk them. ”
Just like my mother.
“Then Grigori got himself murdered.”
Murdered. The Inspector hadn’t been forthcoming with this information.
“Throat cut like a fucking holiday turkey. Like that poor Ticketmaster at the station.”
“Mr. Thatcher?” I asked, shocked.
Thea nodded. “Happened last night.”
Her revulsion and regret matched mine. Grigori had done everything to justify his bloody exit, but Christopher Thatcher had merely seemed scared.
“Grigori deserved worse,” I said, and Thea’s dark gaze found mine.
“Damn right he did,” she whispered, taking in a shaky breath.
“William had always been strange, but he was kinder than his father, and he loved the hell out of Fiona. We thought he was going to step up, change everything, but...” She paused here, stuck on information she didn’t want to give me.
“When he and Fiona fell apart, he went strange, spent a lot more time with that crazy geezer. Then Grigori died and locked himself away for weeks. When he finally showed face again, it was with new plans for the Brom, goals for a long and prosperous future. He was meaner, unpredictable. That’s the time Fiona began acting wrong, too.
She withdrew, closed the house, and wouldn’t talk to anyone. ”
I wanted to ask about Fiona’s son, or the son she’d believed she had, but wondered how much she’d tell me, how deeply she was involved in what led my sister toward the spiral that ended her life.
Thea appeared genuinely disturbed by the world she lived in, but if there was one thing I’d learned in the handful of hours we’d spent together, this gorgeous musician was also an incredible actress.
But I had little to lose, so I took a page from the Inspector’s book and attempted to throw her off guard by a quick change of subject.
“When we talked last, you told me my sister didn’t have a child.”
“She didn’t,” Thea replied without missing a beat, but there was a hardness in her tone, a warning that this was territory she wouldn’t cede easily.
Either I wasn’t good at asking unexpected questions, or Thea was always on her toes. It was possibly both.
“So whose boy was in the picture, Thea? Who’s Roark?”
“I don’t know everything about your sister.
We were close, but she never let anyone into her inner world.
I’ve never even been to that house of yours.
What I’ll tell you is that the only way women like us survive in a place like this is to go along, Eleanora.
It’s what Fiona did, what she had to do.
Then she changed her mind and started bucking. It exploded in her face.”
A heavy silence fell between us. This night had been far worse than I expected, and there was nothing to show for it but a deeper loathing for the Nightglass family and a fresh curse to replace what I’d just gotten rid of.
“I’m going home,” I said, before regretting the word I’d used. Too late to take it back, it hung in the air, heavy with unintended meaning.
“Wait, Eleanora,” Thea stopped me with a graze of her fingers on my arm. “It isn’t safe for you to walk. I’ll get my driver to take you home. ”
“No, thank you. I don’t know where I’d end up,” I replied bitterly.
“I swear to you we’ll take you to Blackwicket House.
All the way to the front door.” Her earnestness, which she realized wasn’t worth much given the situation, was punctuated by a small grin that transformed her face, which became something beyond beautiful—the face of a woman who was only that and nothing more.
“Honestly, I’ve never been that close. I’m a little curious.”
“I’m sure,” I replied, not bending to the friendly smile.
“Or you can be a stubborn mule and walk yourself, alone.” She leaned against the door frame, a hand on her hip, confident that she was making a good argument.
“In the snow, with a whole crowd of magic-intoxicated lunatics who are going to be looking for any way to keep the high going after being cut off earlier than expected.”
My laugh was a short expulsion of breath. Somehow she’d made this absurd reality sound like a joke. My magic was still active, jittering around the curse I’d taken from Cora, and with the battle of the cold facing me, I might not be able to keep the barriers up to protect me from detection.
“I’ll accept the ride,” I said, “But Thea, I’m not opening the house. I’m not going to help William keep doing this.”
She regarded me as though she were tracing all the lines and features where my sister and I collided.
“Eleanora, honey,” she replied, “I’m not sure William’s going to give you a choice.”