by Kim Liggett
“How do you manage it?” I asked. “Living in the public eye?”
“The digital age has presented its own set of challenges for us,” Mr. Bridges said, “but it’s easier than you think. A few carefully orchestrated deaths and births”—he waved his hand around—“but this latest incarnation has us all breathless. We’ll be getting in line for that as soon as you get the kinks worked out.”
“Kinks?” I asked.
“Oh, I mean no offense,” he added, quickly brushing it off, but I knew there was something to it.
“Honestly, a good makeup artist in your service can do wonders.” Mrs. Bridges winked at me.
She was probably in her late thirties when she was made immortal. Slightest hint of a West Texas twang. If I concentrated, I could still smell the gunpowder and campfire embedded deep within her pores. Despite her carefully assembled appearance and designer clothes, that first life still clung to her, like dried blood beneath her fingernails. There was a sadness about her, a softness that only comes with loss. I wonder what led her on this path.
But her husband was something else all together. Coronado noted that Brent had won his immortality in a bet with a traveling alchemist in the 1800s. But what Coronado didn’t know was that Mr. Bridges cheated in that game, then pulled a pistol from his sleeve, killing every player at that table for the chance at immortality. Once a swindler, always a swindler. Could he be the one supplying Spencer with names, resources?
“You’re a card player, Mr. Bridges?” I asked.
“From time to time.”
I noticed the twitch in his fingers.
“Have an ace up your sleeve?” I narrowed in on him. “I have a feeling you may have coined that phrase—what was it? Late May . . . 1855? Dodge City?”
He let out a chuckle, but the slight tremor in his hand as he lifted the glass of sparkling water to his lips gave him away. “I think it’s time for a real drink. Anyone else?” he asked as he chased after a waiter. “Bourbon, neat.”
“Excuse us,” Julie said as she went after him.
“You certainly hit a nerve,” Dane said as we watched her trying to soothe him.
“It’s not him,” I said.
“How do you know?” Dane asked.
“He may be a cheat, a swindler, but he’s not the one supplying Spencer with names . . . resources. He has enough demons to contend with.”
“Duly noted, but again, I’m pretty sure that information wasn’t in Coronado’s book.”
“It’s called improvising,” I replied. But it was more than that. I knew it and I think he knew it, too. Something was happening to me—maybe it was only the power of suggestion, pretending to be Katia—but whatever it was, I felt completely attuned to my intuition. It was far from unpleasant. It felt good to let loose for a change. Maybe this was the darkness the alchemist spoke of. Maybe it’d been with me all this time and I’d just never allowed myself tap into it before. But I couldn’t help thinking that maybe the darkness, however dangerous, would help me find Rhys.
“Never thought I’d see the day . . . the two of you together again.” A man with perfectly groomed dark hair and beard to match approached. “But maybe this new version is more palatable for you.” I didn’t need to recall Coronado’s notes to know his secrets. Devon Jaeger carried his sins right out in the open. Dime-sized blood diamonds in each ear. I could smell his greed, his dark proclivities seeping from his pores. He’d been trying to modernize the Arcanum for years—his latest obsession, chemical weaponry—but Coronado was his biggest opponent, or Dane was. “Such a noble deed, doing this service for us in exchange for Coronado’s release from the council.”
I felt the tendons in Dane’s arm tense. When Timmons spoke of Dane’s precarious position with the council, I wondered whether Mr. Jaeger was the one behind the threats. But if Mr. Jaeger was the one supplying my brother and Spencer with resources, I assume he would’ve killed Dane by now. Or maybe he had something else in mind for him . . . something far worse.
I raised my chin to meet his penetrating gaze. “Aside from being a rapist and pillager, I didn’t realize you were a relationship expert, too.”
“You don’t remember me, do you?” His face lit up with mischief.
I looked to Dane, but he seemed just as surprised.
As he leaned in, it took everything I had to stand there and not recoil from him.
“Cat got your tongue,” he whispered as he tugged on the end of the ribbon, slipping it out of the bow. “And such a lovely tongue, as I remember.”
As he walked away, I tried to keep my cool, but it felt as if I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe. Why didn’t Coronado warn me? Did he not know?
“It’s okay, mi amor,” Dane said as he stepped in to retie the ribbon. “You did well. It’s been a very long time.”
Mi amor. The phrase slipped under my skin. I remembered Coronado calling me that before he left the sacred circle in Quivira.
The wind found me, the salt air whipping my hair around my face like agitated snakes, and I heard the whisper. Coronado knew.
“You’re surprisingly adept at this,” Dane said. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed or afraid.”
“Be afraid,” I replied as I advanced on him, grabbing him by the lapels. “Because if you ever lie to me again . . . try to fool me . . . put me in harm’s way, I will let my brother murder the world in order to destroy you.”
“Ashlyn,” he whispered, his eyes welling up with concern. “It’s me . . . Dane.”
I looked up and I felt him, every bit of him, his hurt, his confusion. It was him. I don’t know why I did that.
Letting go, I backed away, across the lawn, toward the sound of the sea. Anything to drown out the phantom whisper in my ear. I couldn’t believe I’d said that to him. It’s like I wanted to hurt him. Is that how I really felt or did I get caught up in the moment? Was this the path to darkness that the alchemist spoke of?
Dane followed me, gripping my hand just before I was about to back over the edge of the cliff. Looking down, I felt dizzy watching the surf pound against the rocky crags, at least a hundred feet below.
“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” he said as he looked back at the crowd. “You can leave right now. I’ll have my personal guards take you anywhere you want to—”
“No.” I pulled my hand away, steadying myself. “I know what they’ll do to you if I leave. I know they’ll retire you, whatever that means.”
“You know about that?” he whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted you to come for me, not because you felt sorry for me,” he said as he looked down at the ground, at the torturous space between us.
I could feel the pain pouring off him and all I wanted to do in that moment was hold his face in my hands, tell him that I never gave up on him. On us. But for now, I needed to keep this all business, until I knew what I was doing . . . until I was sure.
“That’s not why I came,” I said, swallowing my feelings. “I came for my brother. That’s all.”
“Of course,” he replied.
“I can do this.” I squared my shoulders. “The cava went straight to my head is all. I just need a few minutes alone.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
He started to leave and then paused. “For the record, if I ever betrayed your trust again, you wouldn’t have to lead Rhys to my door—I would look for him myself, and beg for a swift death.”
As he walked away from me, I stood on the edge of the cliff, staring down at the roiling sea, blinking back tears.
At first, I thought he kept it from me to save his own skin. But the more time I spent with him, the more I came to understand that he didn’t tell me that he’d been threatened because he didn’t want me to feel manipulated. When he said his life was meaningless without m
e, I believed him. Because deep down, beneath all the bravado, I felt the same way.
Dumping the rest of the cava from my glass, I watched it soak into the terra-cotta soil, turning it bloodred.
17
“YOU OKAY, DARLIN’?” Mrs. Bridges sidled next to me.
“A lovers’ spat . . . nothing more.”
“It must be strange coming back here, after all this time. I always thought Coronado was a scoundrel, with that voracious appetite of his, but now I see the ladies were just a way to pass the time, ease his pain until you came back to him. And here you are. Giving him a run for his money. You go, girl.”
“We have a complicated history.”
“And he’s a complicated man. I gotta tell you, we were all a little concerned when he came back. We weren’t sure if he’d ever recover.”
“How was he different?” I asked. “I mean, I should know if I want to work out the kinks.”
She looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “Violent outbursts, talking to himself. I heard he cried himself to sleep every night.”
I thought about Dane telling me there was a transition period, but clearly, he’d glossed over the details. I couldn’t imagine how hard that must’ve been, especially having to come to terms with all of this in the public eye. I only had Katia inside of me for a few moments and I’d never felt so insane. There was no one helping him—no one to confide in. He had to negotiate this all on his own.
Except for Lucinda.
I scanned the perimeter of the party, seeking her out. She wasn’t hard to find. Wherever Dane was, she was, orbiting him like a dark moon. I didn’t know what her role was in all of this, but I intended to find out.
Mrs. Bridges was nice enough to try to introduce me around. I mingled with whoever dared to engage, but kept it light. I’d probably done enough damage for one evening.
As I watched Dane working the party, shaking hands, I wondered how long we’d be able to keep this up. I’d eventually run out of dirt to dazzle them with, and then what? Dane and I stole glances at each other, but he gave me my space. I hated hurting him like that, but it was necessary until I had a better grip over my emotions.
Looking around for a distraction, I noticed a man in a crisp linen suit and pink bow tie, dabbing at his forehead with a silk pocket square. He’d been dancing around me all evening. Max Pinter—the architect. I recognized him from his photo. Other than his affinity for male ballet dancers, Coronado gave me little else to go on.
I homed in on him, trying to breathe him in, but it felt as if there were a wall between us. Beyond the awful amber perfume and the acrid scent of his sweat . . . there was something else, something clouding my intuition. He was hiding something.
I circled him, and when he could no longer stand the anticipation, he turned to greet me, a strained smile plastered over his ashen face.
And there was a flicker of recognition. I remembered seeing him as we left the alchemist’s shop. A moment of panic set in. Did Rennert tell him that I was an imposter? I forced myself to breathe. Play it cool. “We meet again.”
“About that . . . I was only . . . he told me it would work . . . that it would protect me . . .” He fingered the small amulet hanging from a chain around his wrist. I took in a deep breath. Horehound and mandrake. An old brew believed to ward off hostile magic.
Pinter raised his voice as he gripped on to me. “I didn’t want to do it.”
“Do what?”
“They made me,” he yelled.
Lucinda signaled for the guards.
“Who?” I asked. “What did they make you do?”
As the Arcanum guards closed in, he dug his nails into my wrist. “I know who you are. I know who he is. You’re both in danger,” he managed to get out before the Arcanum grabbed him, hauling him back. “Look at the plans. The plans!” he cried as I watched his heels digging a path in the soil.
Dane rushed over to me, inspecting my wrists. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I assured him, trying to catch my breath.
Dane looked furious. “Have him thrown off the grounds at once,” he yelled to the guards. “And sober up, man!”
As I looked around at the council members gathering, I saw the mix of fear, doubt, and horror on their faces.
“Give us a moment,” he announced to the crowd.
Reluctantly, they stepped away to gossip elsewhere.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Dane said soothingly. “Max is a gifted architect, but when Rhys’s blood killed his partner, Terrance, last month, he started to slip. I had no idea he was this far gone.”
“I saw him today in Barcelona.”
“Where?”
I thought of telling him about the strange encounter at the apothecary, but decided to keep it to myself for now.
“I’m not sure, but he said he knew who I was. Who you were. That we were in danger. And something about plans. ‘Look at the plans.’”
He shook his head. “He’s clearly lost his mind.”
“He wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t crazy. He was scared. I could feel it. We need to talk to him. If he knows the truth about us, maybe he knows something about Rhys, too.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “I really think he’s just gone over the edge, but if it will make you happy, I’ll ask my personal guards to find him . . . bring him back.”
“Thank you,” I said.
He nodded, then turned to speak to one of the guards.
“All taken care of,” he said as he returned to me.
As I looked around the gathering, the immortals hovering in small groups, I murmured, “They think I did this. That I made him lose it like that.”
“Let them,” Dane said. “The only thing separating us from a life of torment is their absolute fear of and fascination with you. Remember that. And whatever they would do to Rhys pales in comparison to what they’d do to us.”
18
“BLOOD DRIVE AND cocktails in the main ballroom,” Lucinda called out with a box full of needles in hand.
The crowd let out an unexpected cheer.
“Am I missing something?” I asked as Dane offered his arm to escort me into the main house. “Since when is a blood drive cause for celebration?”
“This is Arcanum business,” he said as he led me inside. “The blood drive is mandatory. Twice a year, each member offers six pints of blood. The council invests the money. It’s turned into a lucrative source of income for all of us.”
“So, the council is basically a blood mob for immortals?” I said.
“They do a lot more than that. Whatever problem a member has, whether it’s business or personal, it’s brought to the table to be solved.”
“Solved. Is that what they called ordering the death of my entire bloodline?”
Lucinda glared at me as we passed. “I hope she’s not the one taking the blood.”
“You’d be surprised. She has the lightest touch I’ve ever seen.”
“What’s her deal anyway?”
Dane leaned in. “She kind of came with the house. She’s been here since the 1500s. Coronado arranged for her immortality when he came back from the Americas. I know she’s a little sharp around the edges, but she can be trusted. She helped me with the notebook. She’s the only one who knows about me . . . my shared arrangement with Coronado. They were very close.”
“Wait, do you think she and Coronado . . . ?”
Dane cringed a little.
“Oh God. That explains a lot. I heard he had quite a reputation with the ladies. And I quote, ‘a voracious appetite.’”
I watched a blush creep over his collar. “Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from Coronado’s memories. Some things I will never be able to unsee,” he said with a sheepish grin.
As we approached the main hall, one of the Arcanum guards hurried p
ast with an armful of tubing and blood bags.
He turned his head away as if he were afraid to even gaze upon me. Clearly, my reputation has preceded me. “Good thing I’m not afraid of blood.”
Dane tightened his grip on my arm. “We can’t participate,” he said through his teeth as he smiled at a passing guest.
“Why?”
“Your blood has properties we don’t want anyone to know about. Much too dangerous.”
“How would they know?”
“Everyone will want a taste.”
“What?” I stopped walking. “Why?”
He tenderly arranged my hair around my shoulders. “Immortals like to . . . well, let’s just say it can get pretty freaky in there.”
“Okay. Gross,” I said under my breath as we continued walking. “But won’t we draw suspicion if we don’t show up?”
“No one would dare interfere with lovers who’ve just been reunited after hundreds of years,” he said with a sly smile.
“What did you have in mind?”
Abruptly, he pinned me against the door to his study. I felt a rush of dark energy pulse through my bloodstream.
Pulling my hair back from my throat, he whispered in my ear, “Pretend you want me.”
I laced my hands through his, and the euphoria that came over me was far from pretend. The closeness of his body made me short of breath.
A few people saw us, but I think that was the whole point.
Reaching behind me, he opened the door to his study and then swooped me up in his arms. I giggled into his neck as we stepped inside the darkened room, turning our backs on the world.
19
“THANKS FOR PLAYING along,” Dane said as he set me down.
I turned away from him, positioning myself directly in front of the fire, hoping the heat would mask the flush of my skin.
“Drink?” he asked as he pulled the stopper off a crystal decanter, flooding the room with vanilla and spices.
“Better not. The cava kind of snuck up on me,” I answered, still trying to get ahold of myself. “But don’t let me stop you.”