“You’re coming to Scotland with me. Get extra tickets for you and Jerod.”
He rubs at his eyes. “I just had a long vacation. I’m CFO, Jade, I can’t take off again so soon.”
“You’re also the CEO’s son. Work something out. Plus, Griffin was just off, too, and he’s going. And he has classes. So book the flights. I’m serious.” I push him. “Now.”
He yawns. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Don’t see what you can do, just do it. Text me when you have the tickets.” I turn away.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to find Griffin.” I need to tell him something before I lose my nerve. I pull out my phone and send him a text. He replies that he’s actually in the office catching up some paperwork while there’s nothing else to do. I tell him to come up to the penthouse and pace the floor in front of the elevators while I wait.
“I’ve never been up this high before,” he says when he steps out into the hall.
I grab his hand and drag him to my place. I have to take advantage of Aric’s poor hearing while I have the chance.
Griffin looks considerably more awake than the rest of us. “Everyone’s pretty upset, aren’t they?”
I shut us inside and then lean against the door for support. “Fallon is dead.”
“What? She didn’t, like, kill—”
“No. Merlin killed her. And I helped.”
His eyes widen.
“I mean, I didn’t know he was going to kill her. He just said he needed a little of her blood as a sacrifice, because she’s loved by a family member, and I needed to cut her arm because I’m a family member and who else was going to do it? It was the only way he could get out of that metal prison.”
“Jade…the breakup wasn’t your fault.”
He doesn’t believe me. I move past him and flop down at my desk in the living room.
“The breakup was my fault. Because…” I sigh and drop my head in my hands. Griffin shuffles over to me. “Just sit down. I’m going to tell you everything, and I need you to listen before you write me off as crazy or grieving. Because I know how this sounds, but it’s also the truth. And I’m not crazy, so please…” I gesture towards the nearest stool and he takes it.
I tell him about Fallon’s death and breaking up with Jerod with her face on. He listens to this with his brows pulled tight, probably not believing a word of it, but listening all the same.
Next, I tell him about my grandfather’s death and how Merlin, also known as Aric, is responsible. He stopped Grandpa’s heart somehow, and then he jammed the elevators and tripped Arthur on the stairs. Griffin nods slowly after this, probably thinking I’m wallowing in deep grief and delusions.
Last, I tell him about the letter my father kept from me and what I’ve read in Alara’s journal, including the parts about how Megara was murdered by great-grandfather Holton, and how everyone else in the family wanted to pretend like she didn’t exist.
“Wait.” Griffin slides off the chair and shrugs out of his jacket. He pulls an envelope from one of the pockets and kneels by my side. “I went and saw your grandmother yesterday morning. I almost forgot about it after what happened to Arthur.” He pulls a picture out of the envelope and shows it to me.
The photograph is old and yellowing. I don’t recognize any of the people, but my eyes are drawn to a woman cradling a baby—a woman with dark curly hair and teal eyes. I gently take the photo and hold it in a trembling hand. “Who is this?”
“Based on other photographs and that family tree you texted me the other day, my best guess is that’s Holton and his brother Elijah and their sister, Megara. She’s holding your great-aunt Sahra.”
“What?”
“Your grandmother said that there wasn’t any point in keeping secrets anymore. She said she found this when they were packing up Holton’s things after he died. It was in the bottom of a filing cabinet that he always kept locked. When she asked your grandfather about it, she said he brushed it off, saying it must have been Sahra’s godmother or something. But…”
“We have the same eyes.” The same cursed eyes.
Griffin nods. “That, and she looks so much like her brothers.”
She does. And I notice something else. Instead of hopelessness mapping her face, like in so many of Alara’s photos, there’s determination. I flip the photo over and read the back. The only words there are Sahra’s full name and the year.
“She was murdered so that the men in this family could live to keep treating the women like crap.” I drop the photo on my desk, next to the papers I found in the locked box. “Wait…” I pick up the map of the lake. “What if this means something?”
Griffin takes the delicate paper from me and looks over it. “I don’t know.”
“I mean, what if Megara knew something that would help without anyone having to die?”
He takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the drawing. I can tell from the look on his face that he’s thinks I’m grasping at empty air, but he says, “Maybe.”
“No, seriously. She wasn’t an awful person like everyone else. If she thought Merlin, or Aric, would harm anyone, then she wouldn’t have risked letting him out without some kind of solution, right? And she must have been close to a solution, because Holton was so scared she was going to let him out that he killed her.”
His near-frowning face is still not convinced, but he doesn’t dispute me. He eyes the other papers on my desk. “So…what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that she knew she was going to die. So she wouldn’t have written anything down that would have made sense to Holton. She locked the box I found these in and tossed the key, probably off the pier or something, because she knew only Sahra or Alara or myself would be able to open it. Aric told me about this box because Holton brought it down into the tunnels for safekeeping, and maybe in case it had something valuable inside.”
“Because there’s a bunch of treasure under the building.” Boy, does he sound skeptical.
I continue regardless. “Exactly. But Aric knew it was Megara’s, and he knew she was close to letting him out. That’s why he wanted me to see those papers. Because he thought it would help his case. And it did. Unfortunately. But there’s still time. What if there’s something at that lake that could help us? I know it’s vague, but it had to be in case Holton looked inside. She didn’t want it to look suspicious, but it had to make enough sense for me to figure it out, and it does. Kind of.”
Griffin sighs and holds his hand out for the paper with the faded gibberish on it. “You didn’t send me this one either.”
“That’s because it doesn’t make any sense.”
He takes a picture of it anyway and hands it back to me. “Do you think this is important?”
“I really don’t know.”
He turns his attention back to the lake drawing and squints at it. “And this is where you want to go when we get to Scotland?”
“Yes.”
“And you think Merlin is real?”
“He is.” I know I’m being a little manic, but figuring out how to put an end to this is the only productive thing I can do. It’s the only thing that will even come close to making up for what I’ve done.
Griffins swallows. “And you think he’s killing off the men?”
“He is. Which is why Kaius and Jerod are coming with us.”
“What about your dad?”
My shoulders sag. “I don’t know. I’m going to try to keep him out of the building, but I don’t think he’ll listen.”
“He’s in his office now. I saw him in there on my way up.”
I rub at my heavy eyelids and try to steady my breath. I know he still doesn’t believe me, but in true Griffin fashion he’s still trying to help. I push my chair back and he stands with me.
“All right. I’m going to run home and pack. Then I’m going to come back here and see what I can find on this Merlin/Aric guy.” His brows are drawn tightly together.
He rubs my back. “We’ll work everything out, okay? We’ll do it together.”
28
It’s Too Late
My father is alone in his office, hunched over and pinching the bridge of his nose. I knock on the doorframe. He lifts his head and scowls. “What is it, Jade?”
“Why are you here?” Honestly. Why close the office if he’s just going to show up anyway?
“Because.”
“Can we talk?”
“No, we can’t talk.” His voice is stressed and snappish. He sighs. “I lost my brother and father within two days of each other, and now your mother has served me with divorce papers. I can’t deal with your crap right now.”
Divorce papers? I knew this day would come eventually. I didn’t know how I would feel when it happened, but I’d thought I’d feel something. Instead there’s just emptiness. “When did that happen?”
“This morning.”
Wow. I’m happy the woman’s grown a spine and all, but her timing is shit. What kind of horrible person files for divorce the day after someone’s brother dies?
“Like I said,” my father says, anger curling around his words, “I’m not in the mood.”
I force my feet to stay put. This is important. “I think you should take some time off. Jerod and Kaius can watch over things while you’re gone.”
My father’s hand curls into a fist. “I was going to try and stop you, you know.” His jaw hardens. “But if you want to run around and act like a damn fool, then do it. Run off to Scotland. Do whatever the hell you want.”
I pinch my lips together. I know my timing is also bad, but unlike a divorce, this can’t wait until tomorrow. My blood stills. Tomorrow. I count the days between Grandpa’s and Arthur’s deaths. Two days. And tomorrow will be two more days.
“Dad, you have to get out of here. You need time away from work.”
He looks up at me and glares. “Why are you trying to get me out of the office? What are you trying to hide?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You want to dig around in my office some more, is that it? You know my sister used to sneak around and break into shit. And you’re doing it, too. I know what that means.” Disappointment drips off his face. “Get out of here.”
“Dad—”
“Get out of here!” He launches out of his chair and shoves a mess of papers and office supplies off his desk.
My insides seize up, but I hold my ground. “Dad—”
“All I ever did was try to save you from the same fate as my sister! Is that so terrible?”
“There are other ways to save people.” My voice shakes. “I found the letter you kept from me. That would have helped.”
“I read that damn letter, Jade. What kind of father would I be if I filled your head with that nonsense?”
“It isn’t nonsense.”
He points a finger at me. “I swear to God, girl. Stop talking to that damn voice before it’s too late.”
His anger chills me. I hold on to the door frame. “What do you think is going to happen? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Will you just listen to me for the first time in your life?” His voice rises to an almost thunderous level.
“All I’ve ever done is listen to you! But what’s going on is more important than that. You need to take a leave of absence, if you value your life at all.”
Barking laughter fills the office as he collapses back into his chair. “What have you done? What the hell have you done?”
My voice drops to a whisper. “You just have to leave.”
He shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh. “Fuck…” He runs a hand down his face and then pushes himself out of his chair. He barrels through the door, nearly running me over on his way to the elevators.
I slide out into the lobby with slow steps and watch him leave.
I don’t know what to make of that. Did he storm out because he’s angry or because he actually knows what’s going on? I can only hope that he doesn’t come back either way. Because he’s dead if he does.
29
Merlin
Rain pelts hard against my windows—the only sound I’ve heard since Griffin showed up. He brought his laptop with him, and he’s been glued to it since he kicked his shoes off.
While he works on whatever, I read the rest of Alara’s journal. It ends on a cliffhanger, with a collection of erratic entries detailing her final days.
I realize now how clueless my father is. He’s truly been left in the dark about everything. He’s driving me out to the countryside to see an energy worker in the morning. They’re supposed to “purge the demons” from my soul. I know it’s going to do nothing. Because there are no demons there. There’s only the one that whispers to me, and he can’t be removed by mutterings and oil.
Owin, on the other hand, knows way more than he lets on. He’s become rather militant about my treatment of late. I’ve given him all the facts in an effort to convince him that I’m not crazy, but he only saw it as proof that my “madness” is getting out of control. Arthur has tried to reason with him, but Owin won’t listen to anyone anymore. He’s taken it upon himself to make sure I’m taking my pills and going to my sessions. He drives me himself. I take the pills because they help me sleep. But they don’t do anything else.
His intensity over this scares me. Ever since grandfather died…it’s like he’s losing his mind. But I’m starting to understand one thing very clearly.
The entry ends here, and the next couple of pages have been ripped out. I frown at the torn edges. Surely my father didn’t do this. If he’d known about this, I’m sure he would have burned the whole thing. Did Alara do this? Why?
The letter she wrote my father and uncle sits unfolded on my bed. I pick it up and set it inside the journal. She used the last pages for her final words.
I gaze at the mess of clothes around me. I need to finish packing. There’s nothing left to read. There’s nothing else to help me. Even if my father does stay out of the building tomorrow, Aric will kill him as soon as he comes back. And he’ll come back eventually. I’d have to burn the place to the ground. And I’d also have to keep Kaius and Jerod off the ashes of the property for the rest of their lives. Running is only a temporary solution. But we have to do it.
There’s a knock on the door.
“I got it,” Griffin calls from my living room.
I poke my head out and see Kaius lingering in the foyer looking disheveled, still, and reluctant. “We got a flight out,” he says.
“You could have just texted me.”
He shakes his head. “What’s going on?” He holds up his phone. “Dad texted me and said to keep an eye on you?”
I shrug.
“He thinks you’re half a martini away from jumping off the top of the building.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m not.”
Griffin props himself up on the back of the couch, his laptop balanced on his forearm. “Listen to this. I found a tiny mention of someone named Merlin in the writings of a poet, or a bard, I guess, from around the same area and time of Uther Pendragon. It speaks of Merlin as a great pretender—a purveyor of parlor tricks—until he came across a powerful sorceress who made him strong. After the chance meeting, the bard writes that Merlin went to great lengths to unsour his name and prove himself someone worthy of a king’s trust. The lyrics end by saying that Merlin was ageless like a god.”
Kaius raises his eyebrows. “That’s weird. Who wrote that?”
Griffin stares at the screen. “It just says Bard Joey. I also found some writings referencing the knights of the round table and a boy with golden hair that could be King Arthur the first. There isn’t much else to note, but it’s proof that Merlin could have been real, at least at one time.”
Kaius laughs for a bit until he notices the serious looks on our faces. “Wait…you asked me about Merlin at the wake. You’re not saying he was real?”
“In some capacity.” I step further into the room.
Kaius’s eyes go wide. “All those stories were based on a real guy?”
“Possibly,” Griffin says.
He laughs again. “And what brought on that conclusion?”
“I’ll tell you on the plane,” I say.
“Tell me now.”
“You may not go if I tell you now.”
“He’ll go,” Griffin says.
“Jade.” Kaius swallows. “You think he’s real?”
“I don’t think, Kaius, I know. I’ve seen him.”
“Show me.”
“No!”
Alarm fills his eyes at my tone.
“Sorry. It’s just—it’s not safe.”
Kaius’s lips form a line.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I say. “I’m not crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Kaius says. “But…you know it sounds crazy though, right? And what do you mean it’s not safe?”
Griffin continues scrolling through whatever he’s looking at on the computer. Aric’s energy hums beneath the floorboards. I don’t know if he can hear me. But at this point, what does it matter? He told me he was killing everyone. The more my brothers know, the greater chance I have at keeping them safe.
“Merlin has been trapped underground. There are tunnels in the utility hall that lead to a cavern under the building. They’ve been dragging him around for centuries.”
Kaius almost starts laughing again, but then he meets my eyes and he doesn’t. “Say that there is some truth to the stories and Merlin is real. Granddad said they parted ways.”
“Grandpa didn’t know. But I think Dad knows.”
“Dad knows there’s a ghost in some room under the building?”
Of course when he says it like that it sounds ridiculous. “He’s not a ghost.”
“Well, what else could he be? He would be long dead by now.”
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