Page 49 of Blackwicket (Dark Hall #1)

“It’s just that the gentleness you experienced surprises me.

The Authority has always been cruel,” I said, no affection lost for an administration that vilified the vulnerable, who’d pushed my mother to confess to a crime she hadn’t committed all to protect me from the horrible consequences they’d impose for my actions.

“You think the Brom would fear us if we weren’t?”

“Being what you are, how could you support what they do to people like you, like me? What they would do to Jack.”

“What would I do to him, Eleanora?” Inspector Harrow asked softly. “He’s innocent. He didn’t choose this.”

Neither had I, but I stowed the defense. I’d been a full-grown woman when I’d made my decisions regarding Brock Moftan, who hadn’t been Brom, only an awful man.

“I was the first kid Barrick took into his home.” The Inspector surprised me by continuing to divulge some of his history.

“He knew I wouldn’t last anywhere else. I was too impulsive, bad tempered.

But I wasn’t the first Dark Hall child he’d rescued.

He’d made it his mission to ferret us from hiding and out of the clutches of people who were misusing us.

Do you honestly believe Curse Eaters were keeping the children they kidnapped safe? ”

I wanted to answer, to refute his prejudices, but I knew nothing of other Curse Eaters.

I knew only what my mother had told me. But Isolde herself believed the practice of procuring children from Dark Hall was barbaric, had broken tradition instead.

I wondered what sort of person Granny Fora had been.

Had she been a Dark Hall child herself? Sadly, there was no one left to clarify my family’s sordid history.

“I can’t say,” I confessed. “But I suppose you believe the Authority did.”

“Barrick Harrow did,” the Inspector said.

“He found places for them to go, people who’d care for them.

For as long as he was alive, he kept track of every single kid he’d recovered.

His work was the entire reason I followed in his footsteps, joined the Authority.

What he was doing wasn’t sanctioned; nobody knew what was going on, only that he was good at keeping Brom and their Curse Eaters under control.

They probably assumed he was murdering them, but he never invited anyone to think different. ”

The Inspector was describing a man who pretended to be a monster so he could do good. I wondered for the first time how much of the Inspector’s monstrousness was for show. But I was in no danger of convincing myself Victor Harrow wasn’t who he claimed to be. I’d been a witness to his violence.

“Why isn’t he here doing this work with you?” I asked, noting the Inspector spoke of Chief Harrow in the past tense.

A beat of weighty silence followed.

“Barrick Harrow was murdered by a Brom agent connected to Grigori Nightglass, two years ago,” the Inspector replied at length.

The picture of the Inspector’s recent life became clear.

The Brom he’d killed, the vicious scar, his loathing for Nightglass and all the people in it, and his contempt for William and those associated—all connecting back to what he’d lost. There was no softening of his eyes or tightening of muscles in his jaw revealing the pain of this confession, but the thread of wayward magic that broke free of its shackles, reaching across to me on instinct, contained his anguish.

He deliberately moved away to avoid psychic contact, but it was already too late; his power had summoned mine, and I’d involuntarily responded.

It was bewildering to be near someone from whom you couldn’t shield yourself, who perceived and touched your deepest person, even against their own wishes.

And because it was equal parts perplexing and unwelcome, we both strained to ignore it, determined to show no sign that we sensed the pull.

“I’m going to protect Jack,” I said. “I’ll die trying.

I can’t keep looking on while William terrorizes the people of this town who can’t escape.

Inspector, I have a unique set of abilities, and there’s no reason for you to reject my help with bringing the Nightglass dynasty to its end.

William thinks he’s cornered me. All I have to do is pretend to give in. ”

A darkness crossed the Inspector’s face, the tinge of gold in his eye more prominent. He grew icy, magic retreating, creating a void where it had once been.

“It’s a pretty offer, Ms. Blackwicket, but your seduction of William Nightglass isn’t required.”

Frustration and no small amount of offense sparked like a flint.

“Don’t twist my words. I don’t know what else to do to prove to you I’m trustworthy, that I’m not involved in any of this. I’ve lost family, was nearly murdered twice , I’ve shown you the secrets of this house and bared my shame to you.”

I’d worked myself up, wanted to raise my voice, but lowered it instead, the words a vicious whisper.

His ire responded in kind, and he took a menacing step, pinning me with his next accusation, a true one.

“But you’re still lying to me,” he growled in return.

“What do you want from me?” I demanded, the crack in my voice humiliating.

“Everything, Eleanora,” he replied. “And that’s the trouble. ”

With no other warning, he reached for me, his hand catching my hair, tangling in the pins I’d haphazardly arranged as I’d rushed to dress that morning.

His initial touch was rough, a loss of control, but when our mouths met, he didn’t devour, didn’t bruise my body with demanding hands.

He merely held me, inviting me to respond, to mold my body to his.

I had every reason to resist and cared for none of them.

I fit against him as though we’d been made together, forged by the same hand in heartache and turmoil. It was true I was lying, but so was he, holding the truth behind his affliction close.

I didn’t care.

He was reminding me I was still capable of something other than rage and grief, and I wanted to explore what it meant to meet magic that felt like home the way his did.

It wasn’t the rising of the sinister part of him that broke the kiss, but his own regret, clear in his eyes, which lingered on my face as if to memorize me before he let go forever.

“I’m here to ensure that William Nightglass and everyone who enables him burns, Eleanora. You don’t need to be part of this. You simply need to stand a safe distance away and watch.”

He brushed the hair from my forehead with his thumb, tracing the trail of his finger across my temple with his gaze. He released me, my heels finding ground.

“You can’t do it alone, Victor. No matter how vicious you are, you’re one man. They’ll kill you.”

He smiled, such a rare thing to see, but even more uncommon was the resignation in it.

“Don’t waste gentle sentiments on me, Curse Eater,” he murmured.

“Save them for the boy, and spend your time figuring out how you’re going to handle the Authority when they finally draw the connection between Nightglass and the Blackwickets.

My suggestion would be to make damn sure they never find either of you. ”