by Cate Corvin
The tiniest hint of surprise touched Percival’s face, and Will’s gaze moved between us. It was my turn to be surprised when Will carefully took a wine bottle from Mom’s precarious grip and offered her his arm. “I’ll get started with Connie,” he said, but Percival ignored him.
Mom, for her part, just beamed up at my stepbrother, almost childlike in her dependency on others- especially men- to lead her where she needed to be. No wonder domineering Lord Godalming had her wrapped around his finger.
But for all that, Will wasn’t looking at her with scorn. He gave her a genuine smile, quietly asking her something as he led her away to the kitchen, and my mother replied in her soft, wispy voice.
Huh. Maybe the lesson to not be such a smug asshole had gained a foothold somewhere deep inside him.
“What do you need, Victoria?” Percival reached out to touch my elbow. He was as tall as his son, and even with the frost in his hair, he was still powerful and in excellent shape, a slayer who kept up with his training regimen. He hadn’t become a war hero by being an Average Joe.
That knowledge had every warning bell in the back of my head clanging away for attention, replaying Will’s warning to me. No matter what he gave me- no matter how much Mom loved him- there was something about Percival I couldn’t put my finger on that I despised.
Like father, like son?
No. Will made me feel a burning fury for vengeance, but I knew that while he could be a total cunt, he was capable of being a good, caring person. When he wanted to be.
Percival made me think of carnivorous plants, like a Venus flytrap waiting to snap its jaws shut around a juicy morsel. A wolf hidden in sheep’s clothing. All appetite and no saving grace.
I pulled a translucent orange bottle out of my jacket pocket. It was empty, and I held it up in the air and shook it to make that point. “Have you been watching Mom’s medications?”
Percival’s eyebrow twitched, the only sign that this wasn’t what he’d expected me to ask. “I must confess that I haven’t been monitoring them closely, Victoria. Constance is a grown woman, capable of handling her own-”
Rage erupted in me. “She is not.” My voice rang down the hall and my fist clenched around the bottle. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to modulate my tone. “She can’t handle her own medications, Dad. She’d rather live in la-la land than deal with reality, and she’ll take more than she’s supposed to if you let her.”
Percival stared down at me, his hand tightening around my upper arm, but I didn’t care anymore if he got pissed. Maybe he should’ve thought of that before declaring his life to Mom, in sickness and in health.
“She needs to be watched, and you need to lock them up and dispense them. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told you she requires care.” That was the part that made me the most angry- I’d already warned Percival that leaving Mom alone with her meds was a severe risk. It’d been years since she’d attempted to eat a whole bottle of pills, and some days I’d thought she wanted to die, to be with James and our real Dad. We weren’t out of the woods yet. We might never be. “I should’ve been harsher, in fact. I know you married a grown woman in body, but she can’t make those rational decisions for herself. I wouldn’t have gone to Libra if I’d known she’d be left alone to eat pills all day!”
I was snapping by the end, rage eating me alive from the inside, completely forgetting it was unwise to yell at a man like Percival in his own home.
There was a second when time seemed to come to a halt, and I thought I might’ve royally fucked up. Will and Percival had the same eyes, that clear green that was sharp enough to cut when they were angry… like right now. Percival looked at me like I was something he could crush underfoot as easily as breathing. Every fiber in my body screamed for me to run.
But then he smiled and the tension between us broke.
“You’re right, Victoria.” Worse than his anger was his hands on my upper arms, holding me in place while he gently stroked me with his thumbs. It was the sort of gesture someone might give their lover, which made me want to gag a little. Or a lot. All over his Italian loafers, ideally. “Believe me, I understand Connie is in a very fragile place right now… but you haven’t been here to see her progress. She’s been much happier since you left Port Leona, and your progress in the academy… well, that’s helped quite a bit, my dear.”
My heart thrummed in my throat, filling my mouth with the taste of copper. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment than to be able to shimmer my ass right out of there.
“She’s happier because she’s tranqued as fuck,” I whispered. My voice didn’t seem to be able to rise above a rasp, not when Percival was looking at me like something he wanted to devour. There were too many teeth in that smile.
“Victoria, swearing is uncouth. I don’t want to hear that language from you under this roof.”
Go fuck yourself with a splintered stick of balsa wood, bitchtits. “I’m sorry, Dad. But of course she looks happy- she’s run through her medication at three times the rate she should be taking them. This wasn’t due for a refill until February.”
Percival’s fingers tightened, going past mild discomfort into pain as his grip closed. “Are you suggesting that I don’t know how to care for my own wife, my dear?”
I stared up at him, those warning bells sounding a lot more like klaxons now. Would his fingers dig in even harder if I said yes, you’re incapable of caring for her?
Will popped into my mind, telling me that Percival had threatened to cut out his tongue for breathing a word of their sordid history to Mom.
In this moment, I believed it. Percival was the kind of man who’d cut out a tongue-or pummel a stepdaughter into a stone wall- for questioning his authority over anything.
“I’m suggesting that Mom might be a little slyer than you give her credit for, Dad,” I said, my heart pounding as I carefully danced around his question. “If she knows her meds aren’t locked up, she’ll find a way to rationalize taking more.”
After all, the two empty bottles I’d found didn’t lie. If Mom wasn’t taking more than she should, had they just evaporated into the ether? Somehow, I didn’t think so.
Guilt bit at me for laying the blame at Mom’s feet, but the last thing she needed was for Percival to turn this domineering wrath on her because of my accusation of him.
“I know you’ve done everything you can.” I gave him my most heart-melting smile, wishing I could punch him in the face instead. My stomach churned ominously. “It’s hard, believe me, I know. I spent three years handling this myself, and it never got any easier until she met you.” Oh, gag me with a spoon. “Until we met you. But she’s not going to get better in just a few months, and the mania of the wedding probably made this crash a lot worse.”
Percival’s grip on my arms slowly loosened as I spoke until his fingers were no longer digging into my flesh, and I could breathe easily again.
“Victoria, dear. I apologize. I should’ve known your concern only came from a place of love.” Percival gave me what I thought was supposed to be an indulgent, fatherly look, but it came across more like a hungry wolf eyeing a morsel. “I assure you Connie is doing much better since you’ve recovered from your little scandal, but if it helps, I will start locking up her medications.”
Little scandal? Christ.
“That would make me feel so much better, Dad. I just worry about her, and it makes it so much harder to concentrate on schoolwork if I’m always afraid she’ll go overboard.” Untrue. I hadn’t been worried about it until this winter break had started. Mom hadn’t tried to gulp a full bottle since James’ death had been only months old, still a raw wound in our hearts.
Which meant she was slowly losing her grip again here in Percival’s home.
“I will have her on a schedule, effective immediately. She already has a sleep and meal schedule- adding her medication to the list will be no problem at all.”
I stared up at him. His pupils were pinpricks swimming in a sea o
f cold green, almost reptilian in their coldness. “What do you mean, she’s on a meal schedule?”
“Twelve hundred calories a day and mandatory exercise. Living in squalor, as you were, did her no favors, dear. My Constance is a slayer and she needs to treat her body like one. No wonder she had such a hard time adjusting to your family tragedy; she was living like a mortal, treating her temple with disregard. With time and work, we’ll be able to wean her off the medications completely.”
Twelve hundred calories with the mandatory exercise. Mom was already tiny and thin, a whisper of a human being, and this motherfucker had her on a diet.
No fucking wonder Will turned out to be such a shithead, if this is what he grew up with.
It was started to really sink in what he’d meant about his father.
I made an immediate vow to myself to sneak Mom some pastries, and to get her the fuck out of there as soon as possible. The minute I had my degree from Libra Academy, I’d be legitimized in the larger clans’ eyes, a little less podunk, a bit more respectable. I might be able to work my way into a good clan, somewhere she’d be safe to live her life in peace without some asshole rationing her food.
If I left now… well, Port Leona could use a local moonspawn slayer, but Percival would know exactly where to find her. And truth be told, I was starting to fear him more than a little.
Hold on a little longer, Mom. “Sure. Sounds great. Locking up the meds will only help. Thanks, Dad!”
All I wanted was for him to release me. He answered my prayers, but not before stroking my hair with that smarmy smile and offering me his arm. Fuck.
My stomach churned as he led me to the kitchen. Next to the rest of cold, pristine Godalming Manor, it was a marvel of modern kitchen tech, with a long, stainless steel range that Will stood at with Mom.
She was laughing at something he’d said as she dropped a bundle of cinnamon sticks into the pot of wine he was stirring. My heart squeezed painfully for a moment when he looked down at her, his jade eyes bright, teeth flashing in a grin. “Who taught you, Connie? Don’t tell me it was leprechauns, because I won’t believe you.”
“No, no, it was a crone!” she said, laughing. Laughing. A real one, with happiness in it even if it was thin and breathless. “I met her in Ireland when I went on sabbatical. I was- oh, seventeen then?”
Will looked up as Percival and I filled the doorway. That squeeze around my heart became a clench as Mom’s smile slipped, growing more guarded, plasticine.
“Let us retrieve the crystal goblets, darling,” Percival said, and my mother obediently stepped into his arms.
Will and I were left alone, staring at each other across the snowy granite island. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t need to. His cool mask was gone, showing only understanding underneath it.
“You were right.”
Everything he’d said was true. This manor wasn’t just Mom’s new home, but a gilded, colorless cage, and Percival not a prince on a white horse but her jailer.
A controlling fucking nutjob.
“When the day comes that we graduate Libra, when we have our degrees in hand,” I whispered, dropping my voice so flat it traveled only the few feet between us, “And I need to get her out of here, will you keep him away from her? Will you help us?”
Percival and Connie returned, and my voice died.
Will silently ladled some mulled wine in one of the cut-crystal goblets and slid it across the island. My fingers brushed his as I picked it up, and a shiver ran through me. Percival portioned out Mom’s wine himself, but he wasn’t looking at us.
My stepbrother nodded and gently clinked his glass against mine. Unlike Percival, who was toasting to Yule and the new year, we were drinking to something else entirely: an alliance of understanding.
Will’s clear gaze never broke from mine as we drank, the sour-sweet spice burning my tongue.
And the pact-along with the tentative truce between us- was sealed.
17
Tori
After that night, the tension between me and Will was no longer fraught with antagonism, but a sort of watchful wariness. It was almost worse, in a way. It was much easier to hate Will when I didn’t empathize with living under a tyrant.
And now he was Mom’s ticket to freedom if we had to run. I’d been watching more carefully since discovering the empty pill bottles, and there was no way I could allow her to live with Percival for the rest of her life. No matter how happy he professed to make her, she seemed like a mannequin for him to pose and control. A living doll.
I couldn’t believe how I hadn’t seen it before, but then, the most lethal predators were good at hiding their true nature until it was too late.
I pummeled a punching bag in the training room as sweat soaked my clothes, trying to work off some of my nervous jitters. Three days. Only three days until we returned to Libra Academy to finish out the last long semester, and I could be with Càel again.
And achieve the degree that would help me find a bastion of safety for Mom.
Oh, and destroy Sura. Couldn’t forget that, now could I?
I punched the bag until my shoulders were screaming and swiped my arm across my sweaty forehead before gulping down a bottle of water, debating how to kill time next.
I could hit the books. I’d finished both essays Knightley had assigned us over the winter break, but there was one thing Godalming Manor had gotten right: they had a monstrously huge library with multiple wings, and a Demonology section that was calling my name.
While I already knew quite a bit about Satan’s kingdom and how exactly to summon and destroy a Sathanas demon without suffering third-degree burns myself, but there was no such thing as too much knowledge when you were prepping for extreme vengeance.
And after that… I’d finally give in to my curiosity. I’d held out for weeks now, which was a feat of goddamn heroism as far as I was concerned, but if I didn’t find out what was on the thumb-drive I’d stolen from Will, I’d lose my mind.
When I thought of the video, my stomach twisted in knots both painful and pleasurable. Pain, because of the sucker-punch to the gut when they’d sent it… and pleasure, because being with Will and Sura had been like every nerve in my body shivering apart from sheer bliss.
No matter how much I’d hated them for sending it, I couldn’t deny what I’d felt at the time.
I had no idea how I’d feel if I saw that file on the drive. But I had to confirm it, if only to delete it. I knew I’d never destroy every copy, but it would be a symbolic healing of sorts.
Besides, now that I’d thoroughly thrashed Will at his own smug game and dug deeper into his fucked-up psyche, I at least felt a sort of peace with him with our pact in place.
I showered quickly and padded to the library, slipping in and closing the door behind me. I paused with bated breath, but there were no sounds, not footsteps nor the turn of pages. I was alone in the dimly lit cavern.
It took me a few minutes to retrace my steps to the Demonology section, which was enclosed in a small room off the main library, divided by a doorway hidden between two taller shelves. I figured there was an enchantment on the door preventing younger slayers from breaching it, but it let me pass without a peep.
Inside, there were a few overstuffed maroon sitting chairs arranged around a fireplace and a polished coffee table. Wishing I’d brought some mulled wine with me, I walked along the walls until I found a few books I needed. I piled them into the crook of my arm, fighting a sneeze as the dust on the old tomes tickled my nose.
Settling cross-legged on a chair, I cracked open the smallest volume, which was also the heaviest.
Made sense, since calling demons was some heavy shit. Rituals could, and did, go wrong in the space of a heartbeat. I’d cleaned up enough gory aftermaths to know. That was how you got shit like Prince Sitri materializing on the mortal plane and leaving carnage- or hordes of people driven to horny madness- in his wake, because some dumbass left the door wide open for them.
And binding demons? You needed blood, bone, blessed iron, and some big old brass balls to keep those fuckers under control. They’d fight it every step of the way, and it only took one mistake for them to get the upper hand.
I had no intention of binding the Sathanas demon with James’ blood on its claws. It was going to die, plain and simple.
As I read, my hand went to my collar, finding the ivory fangs warmed by my skin. Wearing Eluned’s fangs felt natural now, and the little vial of ichor around my wrist was so tiny it just looked like a charm bracelet.
Three days, and I’d have Càel back. Strange how two weeks could feel so long when you’re away from the one you love.
I’d just refreshed on the more exact summoning rituals-knowing the demon’s true name made it all so much easier, but I hadn’t understood a word the Sathanas had squawked, and odds were good he hadn’t been introducing himself, anyway- when the door opened.
I looked up from my book. Will stepped in and pulled it shut behind him. He had a flagon of mulled wine, and two glasses.
Three weeks ago, I would’ve thrown a dagger at his head and told him to get the fuck out.
He sat in the chair next to me, careful to leave a respectable distance between us. “I saw the lights on. Figured you were up studying.”
“Studying how to make things dead, yes,” I said, watching him pour the wine. “Thanks. I was just wishing I’d brought some. Sure you’re not my Fairy Godmother?”
Will’s lush, pretty features were still limned with exhaustion- and let’s be honest, there was probably some depression there, too- but he smiled a little. “I could be. Do you want me to wear a fluffy pink dress and carry a wand?”
“Pink’s not your color.” I sipped the wine and turned a page. “And I’m not sure if sparkles suit you, either.”
“Are you cold?” he asked. This was the one room in Godalming Manor that didn’t look like it’d been decorated by someone who’d lived their entire life in a wasteland of snow, but the omnipresent chill was there.