Unraveled

by Jennifer Estep

  In the very bottom of one of the boxes, I found a crumpled wad of tissue paper, which I pushed aside to reveal a large snow globe. Unlike everything else, the globe had obviously come from the theme park, since it featured a miniature scene of Main Street, complete with a small sign with sparkling stones that spelled out Bullet Pointe. I shook it and watched the tiny silver boot- and spur-shaped glitter swirl around inside before slowly settling back down.

  Two more snow globes were also nestled in the bottom of the box. One featured a summer scene of Bullet Pointe Lake made out of dark blue pebbles with fish and sailboat glitter, while the other contained a winter scene of the hotel, covered with ceramic snow, shimmering red and green holiday decorations, and wreath- and tree-shaped glitter.

  Bria crouched down beside me. She stared at the Main Street snow globe that I was still holding before glancing at the other two that I’d placed on the floor with all the other decorations. They all looked like unwrapped presents perched under the tree.

  “I saw some of those globes down at the Silver Spur earlier today. Cute, if a bit tacky,” she said. “They remind me of all those snow globes that Mom had. Remember how you, me, and Annabella put them all on our Christmas tree that last year?”

  “Yeah,” I rasped. “I remember.”

  That had been such a normal afternoon, and something that I’d all but forgotten about until now. No, that wasn’t true. Ever since I’d found out that my mother had been part of the Circle, I’d been thinking back, trying to remember every single thing I could about her, especially if she’d ever shown any hint or sign that she was involved with such dangerous people.

  Or if she was dangerous herself.

  But I hadn’t been able to remember much. Just hazy images of my mother smiling at me or brushing my hair or laughing as the two of us watched Bria skip around the mansion, playing, singing, and talking nonsense to her dolls. It seemed like the harder I tried to pull those images into focus, the blurrier and more distant they became until they faded away altogether. The pain they brought along with them lingered, though, as sharp and clear as one of my knives in my hand. Because my mother was still dead—would always be dead—and I didn’t have any clue as to what she’d been involved in that had gotten her and Annabella killed.

  Being here at this hotel only made me wonder even more about my mother, the Circle, and everything else. I wondered how often Deirdre had come here. I wondered if she’d ever invited Tucker or any of her other Circle cronies to her resort. I wondered if my mother had ever been here before her death.

  I wondered . . . I wondered too many damn things that I had no way of getting the answers to. The more I tried to uncover the past, the more unraveled I felt myself, like a spiderweb that was slowly disintegrating one strand at a time into nothingness.

  Disgusted again, I slammed the snow globe down onto the carpet hard enough to make the boot and spur glitter smack against the side of the glass. A few of the stones adorning the Bullet Pointe sign also rattled out of their spots and plink-plink-plinked against the inside of the glass before drifting down to litter the tiny street. Cheap and tacky, just like Bria had said.

  I glared at the globe, my fingers itching to grab it and throw it against the closest wall, along with the other two, then stomp on them for good measure, until they were all as empty and broken as my heart.

  “Come on,” I growled, getting to my feet. “Finn’s right. This is pointless. There’s nothing here. Let’s go.”

  I leaned down and yanked the cord out of the socket, killing the lights on the Christmas tree. I didn’t wait for my friends to follow me as I spun around on my heel, stormed over to the door, and left Deirdre Shaw’s suite behind.

  * * *

  We’d spent most of the afternoon in Deirdre’s suite, but after coming up empty there, none of us felt like searching the rest of the hotel for the jewels. At least, not tonight. So the four of us ate a good, expensive Italian dinner in one of the hotel restaurants, then had a nightcap of spiced apple cider by the lobby fireplace. Once again, I was aware of the hotel staff watching us, but that’s all they did. Like I’d told Silvio earlier, Roxy and Brody probably wouldn’t make a move until we’d found the gems—or they decided that the stones were lost for good.

  After our nightcap, we went back to our respective suites—Finn and Bria in one, and Owen and I in the other. We all took precautions to make sure that we’d be safe for the night, including barricading the doors with several heavy tables and chairs and making sure that we all had our weapons handy. No one was getting in here tonight without making a whole lot of noise and getting a whole lot of dead in return.

  Once that was done, Finn and Bria disappeared into their own room. Owen and I both showered, changed into our pajamas, and got into bed. Owen fell asleep almost immediately, his soft, rumbling snores like a steady chorus beside me. But I lay in bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, turning things over and over in my mind, thinking about my mother, Tucker, Deirdre, and especially where she might have stashed her treasure.

  But the answers didn’t magically come to me, so I quit glaring at the ceiling, rolled over onto my side, and snuggled down even deeper under the covers. Eventually I drifted off to sleep, to the land of dreams and memories. . . .

  “You’re doing it wrong,” a cross voice snapped.

  I looked up from the snow globe I was tying to the Christmas tree. “What?”

  Annabella, my older sister, scowled and stabbed her finger to the right. “Not you—her.”

  She glared at Bria, who was sitting on the floor, shaking one globe after another, sometimes two at once, humming to herself, lost in her own little world.

  Annabella glared at Bria again. “She’s supposed to be helping us put these stupid things on the tree. Not just sitting there. After all, this was her idea.”

  We were trimming our Christmas tree in the upstairs family room, something that I absolutely loved doing. At dinner last night, Mom had asked us how we wanted to decorate it this year, and Bria had piped up and suggested that we tie all of Mom’s snow globes to the tree. I’d thought it was a cool idea, but of course Annabella had decided it was totally lame, just like she did everything that wasn’t her idea or didn’t involve her hanging out with her friends. Still, Mom had insisted that Annabella help us, especially since Mom had a meeting and couldn’t come up here until she’d finished.

  So for the last hour, Annabella, Bria, and I had carefully nestled snow globes in the tree and tied them down to the branches with green wire, making sure that they wouldn’t slip off and break on the floor. Well, really, Annabella and I had been doing all the work. Bria had just been sitting by the tree, playing with the globes the way she always did.

  Annabella huffed. “If Bria’s not going to help, I’m not putting the stupid tree up all by myself.”

  “But—” I started to protest that I was helping, but it was too late.

  “Forget it,” Annabella snapped, cutting me off. “I’m calling my friends.”

  She whirled around, her long blond ponytail flying out behind her, and stomped down the hallway. Several seconds later, I heard the sharp bang of her bedroom door slamming shut. Saying that Annabella was a moody teenager was a total understatement. Just because she was in high school, she thought that she was all grown up, and she never wanted to do anything fun anymore, especially not when it came to playing with Bria and me. That was kid stuff, and she wasn’t a kid anymore, as she was so fond of reminding anyone who would listen.

  I looked over at Bria, expecting her to be in tears because Annabella had stormed off, but she was still playing with the globes, and she hadn’t even noticed that Annabella was gone. I let out a relieved sigh. Good. One sister’s temper tantrum was all that I could handle today.

  “Stay here, Bria,” I said. “I’m going to see if Mom has finished her meeting yet and can come help us.”

 
“Okeydokey, smokey,” Bria replied in a distracted, singsong voice.

  She’d probably sit there for another hour before she noticed that I was gone, so I put my globe down and slipped away while I could.

  I headed downstairs, hugging the walls so I wouldn’t be in the way. Mom was hosting her annual holiday party later tonight, and all sorts of people were moving from one room of our mansion to the next. Caterers clutching cases of champagne, florists carrying evergreen wreaths, even a couple of musicians dragging around harps, getting ready to set up their instruments in the main living room.

  The kitchen was on the way to Mom’s office, and I stopped and peered inside. The caterers had been the first ones to arrive this afternoon, and they’d already been cooking for hours. Honey-baked hams and deep-fried turkeys rested on wooden boards, waiting to be carved, while the chefs worked on cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, gravy, and other classic holiday fixings. Everything smelled amazing, and my stomach rumbled in anticipation.

  “Sounds like someone’s hungry,” an amused, masculine voice called out.

  I looked to my right to find a middle-aged man staring at me. He wore a blue work apron over his clothes, and his ­walnut-brown hair peeked out from underneath his tall white chef’s hat. His eyes were a bright, merry, Christmas green, and his cheeks were red from the heat of the stoves.

  “It’s hours until dinner,” I said, my stomach rumbling again.

  The man looked left and right, but the other chefs were busy, so he reached over and grabbed a chocolate shell shaped like a poinsettia from a tray. Chocolate mousse, one of my favorites, was piled high in the shell, topped with fresh raspberries, making it look like a real poinsettia.

  He winked and passed the dessert over to me. “I won’t tell if you won’t, Genevieve.”

  I frowned, wondering how he knew my name, but I was too hungry to care. “Thank you,” I said, and took a big bite.

  It was just as fantastic as it looked. The chocolate mousse was light and fluffy, and the raspberries added a sweet, fruity flavor. The dark chocolate shell crunched under my teeth, then melted in my mouth, adding even more rich, decadent flavor to the dessert.

  “Good, huh?” the man said in a teasing tone.

  “Mmm-hmm.” I quickly polished off the rest of the dessert.

  He winked at me again, then went back to work, piping more chocolate mousse from a pastry bag into those poinsettia molds.

  I left the kitchen and headed to the very back of the house, where my mom’s office was, overlooking the gardens. Workers were out there too, stringing up white holiday lights, thick boughs of evergreen mistletoe, and red velvet bows. One of my favorite things about the holidays were all the bright, bold colors, along with the shimmers of the lights and the sparkles of silver and gold—

  “I can’t do this anymore,” a voice said.

  “Well, that’s too bad, Eira,” another, snider voice replied. “You’re part of the group, so you’re in the thick of things, along with the rest of us, whether you like it or not.”

  I frowned. He was talking to my mom. But what couldn’t she do anymore?

  I tiptoed down to the end of the hallway. The office door was cracked open, letting me see my mom sitting at her desk. She was so pretty with her long blond hair and blue eyes. Not for the first time, I wished that I looked like her the way that Bria and Annabella did. But instead, I’d gotten my father’s dark brown hair and gray eyes, although I barely remembered him, since he’d died right after Bria had been born.

  I eased to one side, staring at the other people in the office.

  One of them was a beautiful woman with short blond hair that had been styled into loose, elegant waves. She was wearing a red cocktail dress, and a large heart-shaped pendant glinted around her neck. She must have been bored by the meeting because she was standing in front of some shelves, picking up my mom’s snow globes, shaking them, and watching the glitter fly around inside, just like Bria had earlier.

  A man was sitting in the chair off to one side of my mom’s desk. A black suit jacket draped over his shoulders. It matched his hair and eyes, as well as the trimmed black goatee that clung to his chin. He smiled at my mom, revealing a set of fangs in his mouth, but his expression didn’t seem to be all that friendly.

  The vampire propped his elbows up on the chair arms and steepled his fingers together. “Let me make this simple, Eira. You can either continue to carry on your role within the group, or we will find someone else to take your place.”

  She lifted her chin. “Go ahead, Hugh. Find someone else. That would suit me just fine.”

  The vampire let out a low, ugly laugh. “You know as well as I do that there is only one way someone leaves the Circle.”

  My mom crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that a threat? Because I don’t take kindly to threats.”

  The blond woman picked up another snow globe and shook it. “Really, Eira. Do you always have to be such a troublemaker? Why can’t you just be a good girl and go along with things?”

  “Because, Deirdre,” my mom snapped back, “unlike the rest of you, I happen to have a little bit of my conscience left.”

  Deirdre rolled her eyes, but she put the globe down, turned around, and looked over at the vampire. “Spending all these years away from Ashland made me forget how self-righteous she always is. How do you stand to deal with her, Hugh?”

  He shrugged.

  My mom’s lips pressed together into a tight line. “I never wanted any of this.”

  “But you are part of the Circle, just as your parents were before you.” Hugh paused. “And just as your lovely daughters will be after you.”

  Anger sparked in my mom’s eyes, along with a shimmer of her Ice magic. “Leave my girls out of this. They have nothing to do with you and me and the rest of this rotten business.”

  He arched his eyebrows. “Funny, but Tristan thought the same thing. And look what happened to him.”

  I frowned. My dad had died in a car accident. What did that have to do with me, my sisters, or anything else? The two of them were talking in riddles that I didn’t understand. But that was the way things had been around here lately. More often than not, Mom stayed holed up in her office for hours on end, talking on the phone or meeting with all sorts of strange people. Normally, before the annual holiday party, she would have been helping us decorate our tree, since that was our family tradition. But instead, she’d been back here all afternoon, meeting with one person after another.

  I raised my hand to knock on the door but thought better of it. Mom wouldn’t want to be interrupted. Besides, I didn’t like the look of the woman or especially the vampire. Sure, he seemed like just another businessman, one of dozens that my mom dealt with, but his black eyes were cold and dead, like Christmas lights that had burned out. Eyes like that . . . they made me shiver.

  There had been a lot of people with those sorts of eyes around here lately. It made me . . . uneasy. Oh, not that I was actually worried about anything. Not really. My mom was one of the strongest Ice elementals around, and she could easily take care of herself, as well as me and my sisters. But all these meetings and all these strange people . . . it just didn’t seem like her.

  Neither did the worry that tightened her face—worry that she just couldn’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard she tried. Even when she was hanging out with Annabella, Bria, and me, Mom always seemed distracted and far away, as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

  “Think over my proposal,” Hugh said, getting to his feet and buttoning his black suit jacket. “Maybe that will give you the illusion that you actually have a choice in all of this.”

  Deirdre snickered, amused by his cryptic words.

  More anger flared in my mom’s eyes, but she got to her feet and gave him a curt nod. The two of them looked at each other over the top of her desk, each giving the other a fl
at stare. Finally, Hugh smiled and tipped his head at my mom, as though they were having a pleasant conversation instead of the tense . . . whatever this was. Deirdre walked over to him, and together, arm in arm, they headed for the door.

  I scrambled back down the hallway, not wanting them to know that I’d been eavesdropping. But Deirdre and Hugh were too quick for me, and the vampire opened the door before I could vanish around the corner. So I surged forward again, pretending like I had just gotten here, although the knowing look he gave me told me that he realized I’d been listening to them the whole time.

  “Hello, little Genevieve,” he murmured. “So lovely to see you again.”

  Again? I’d never seen him before, but for the second time tonight, a strange man knew my name.

  Deirdre held her hand out in front of her, studying her long red nails, as if she were debating whether she needed a manicure. She completely ignored me, but Tucker kept staring at me. I shifted on my feet, trying not to shiver under his intense black gaze.

  “You’re looking very well today. And so much like your father. More and more all the time.”

  My mom appeared in the office door. “Good-bye, Hugh,” she said in a loud, pointed tone.

  Hugh winked at me, then strode down the hallway, with Deirdre still on his arm. They disappeared around the corner, but I could hear the echo of their footsteps as they moved through the house, each one banging against the floor seemingly as loud as a drum.

  My mom listened to them go, her lips flattening out into a thin, worried line again. “He’ll be back,” she whispered, almost to herself. “And then things will be worse.”

  Worse? Worse than what? What had the vampire done to her? And what did she think that he was going to do to her in the future? I looked up at my mom, but she was still staring down the hallway, lost in her troubles, worries, and fears. . . .

  My eyes snapped open, and I sucked in a ragged breath. For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was, but then a warm body shifted beside me, and Owen rolled over onto his side, so that he was facing me.