by Maggie Hall
I read off the next name. Then I said, “So if he used to be like your brother, what happened?”
Stellan spun the bracelet to another password. “We were starting to cook up this crazy scheme where the three of us would work together under Fitz. Be some kind of special Circle-wide Keepers or something, and have Elodie do it, too.” He shrugged self-consciously when he saw me raise my eyebrows. “Before this new round of Order attacks, things were easier in the Circle. We were idealistic. But then Oliver Saxon happened.”
“The oldest Saxon brother.” The brother I’d never know. I remembered how Jack shut down when I asked about him.
Stellan nodded. “He was less than a year older than Lydia and Cole. You know how siblings born in the same year are called Irish twins? They called themselves Irish triplets.”
“So . . .” I did the math. “Just a few months younger than me.” I was starting to put the time line together. My father must have gotten married and started his family right after my mom left.
Stellan nodded. “It was a routine event. One of Jack’s first as a solo Keeper. It was just a freak accident, they said. A car plowed into the crowd. Killed four people. Oliver was one of them.”
I went cold all over. “Oh my God.”
“There was nothing Jack could have done. He saw it coming maybe half a second before everyone else and tried to push Oliver out of the way, but he only succeeded in landing himself in the hospital, too. He’s never forgiven himself.”
I shook my head. “Was it an accident? Or was it the Order?”
“We never knew. There were rumors, but the Order never claimed responsibility.”
“What does that have to do with him being mad at you?”
“Elodie and I were there, too, with Luc. Some things happened, and Jack blamed himself for being distracted . . . When he got out of the hospital, nothing was ever the same.”
“That’s why he’s so overprotective,” I said to myself.
“The Saxons kept him on, when there was speculation he’d be . . . well. You can guess. Oliver was his responsibility that day. The firstborn son of the family, lost under his watch. But Saxon—your father—he didn’t blame Jack.”
“And that’s why Jack feels so indebted to them,” I said quietly.
I felt a surge of affection for my father, for forgiving the accident. And for Lydia for still accepting Jack.
“That, and—” Stellan said, but stopped abruptly.
“What?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
“What?” I snatched the bracelet out of his hand. “You have to tell me now.”
He actually looked uncomfortable. Stellan never looked uncomfortable. “It’s not—it’s going to seem like I’m trying to make him sound bad, but I’m not. I don’t think you really want to know.”
He reached for the bracelet again, and I held it away. “Tell me.”
He sighed. “The day Oliver was killed, Jack kissed Lydia Saxon. He said it was just the once. She initiated it—I think she’s always liked him. But it was at that event, and I saw it happen, and so did Elodie, who he was with at the time. It was the kind of stupid drama that sometimes happened when we were younger and had less responsibility, but we were all upset and preoccupied . . . and then this terrible thing happened.”
I let Stellan take the bracelet back out of my hand. On the other side of the monument, I could see Jack and Elodie, pointing up at a fresco.
That was awful. But also . . . Jack was upset about me being friendly with Stellan, when he’d kissed everyone I knew? And Lydia, of all people?
I followed Stellan blindly around the other side of the arch. This was stupid. What Jack did in the past didn’t matter. Yes, Lydia kind of looked like me. And okay, that meant when Jack had first realized I was a Saxon, he wasn’t just seeing some girl. He was seeing a different version of a girl he’d already had a thing with.
“I told you you didn’t want to know,” Stellan said, still turning the letters on the bracelet.
I snatched it out of his hand and looked up at the next column. “The next name is Gudin,” I said. “No wait, we’ve already tried that one.”
“No we haven’t,” Stellan said.
I pointed. “Oh. I saw it over there, but it wasn’t underlined.”
I twisted the bracelet into Gudin. The second I clicked the N into place, a pop sounded from the bracelet, so loud I nearly dropped it and a couple elderly tourists shot us an alarmed glance. Where the inside of the bracelet had been smooth, the whole word—Gudin—was now raised half a centimeter above the rest.
I looked up at Stellan, and my shock was mirrored in his blue eyes. He pulled me out of the crowd and into a shaded corner, where we sat on the low ledge jutting out from the arch, hunched over the bracelet in my lap. “It actually did something.” I turned the bracelet over and over in my hands. “This is it. This is right.”
Stellan took the bracelet gingerly and inspected the now-raised portion. “What does it mean? The rest of the letters don’t seem to spell anything, and I still can’t see whether there’s anything inside it.”
I grabbed his arm, and he held out the bracelet so I could see, too. Under the raised portion was a thin line of what looked like topaz, but he was right—we twisted and pulled on it, but this was as far as we could get it open.
“We can figure out what it means later, but it’s something. We actually found something.”
“We actually found something.” Stellan’s eyes were shining. I realized I was clinging to his arm like a life preserver, and let go. Jack and Elodie appeared at the far side of the arch, and I jumped up and waved to them, any animosity forgotten for a moment as we showed them what we’d found.
“Do you think it’s the same password for both?” I said, breathless.
“No way of knowing,” Elodie said. “Maybe write down all the other underlined names?”
I immediately pulled out paper and started scribbling. “No,” I said. “Not underlined. Twins. The bracelets are twins, and that name, Gudin—there’s another Gudin over there. Look for names that repeat.”
“Here,” Jack said after a few minutes. “This one has a first initial. Maybe that means there are two.”
I wrote the name down: Boyer, and glanced over the rest.
One second, Jack looked triumphant, and the next, he was staring over my shoulder and his smile blinked off like the power had gone out.
I turned, and my whole body went hot, then cold.
Standing behind us was my sister.
CHAPTER 20
Stellan shoved the bracelet in his pocket. Cole stepped into view, too, and then the twins were striding toward us. Lydia waved.
My heart was racing. It was too late. There was no way they hadn’t spotted Stellan and Elodie.
And then, a flash of movement behind them, and this time I was sure. It was the same blue hat I’d seen earlier. The person turned so I could finally see his face—and my heart dropped to my feet.
The person wearing the blue baseball cap was Scarface.
Suddenly, explaining away Stellan and Elodie’s presence didn’t matter as much.
“Lydia!” I rushed toward my siblings, grabbing both of them by the wrists and dragging them around the corner. “Cole! We have to get out of here.”
Jack had already seen, and whispered to Stellan and Elodie, who both had hands on whatever weapons they had hidden.
For a second, I thought about confronting Scarface, even though we had the passwords and would soon have the second bracelet. This could be my chance—if I wasn’t worried about him hurting my siblings.
I didn’t have much time to consider it. Jack was shielding me and the twins, bundling us to the stairs under the traffic circle and to our waiting car on the other side.
“What are you doing?” Cole grumbled.
“Just go,” I urged him. “Trust me. I’ll tell you in the car.”
I glanced back for Stellan and Elodie, who were now loping down the tunnel. “We lost him,” Stellan said.
“Just get in the car,” I answered.
We all piled inside. “Go,” I said to the driver. “Anywhere. Away.”
When the car started moving down the Champs-Élysées, I slumped back against the seat with a sigh. “Get off the main road,” I said, and the driver turned off. No one seemed to follow us. My heart was slamming against my rib cage.
“What were you two doing there?” Jack demanded.
“What were you doing there?” Lydia countered.
“Who are they?” Cole said, pointing to the passenger seat, where Elodie sat on Stellan’s lap.
“Stellan Korolev,” Lydia said. “Dauphin Keeper. And”—she looked Elodie up and down—“Elodie Fontaine. Dauphin maid,” she said, like none of us were even here. She turned back to me. “Your friend Luc was nearly killed earlier. If none of the other attacks convinced you to help us stop the Order, that should. You need to come back with us right now.”
“I—what?” My head was swimming. Had the twins tracked me down because of what happened to Luc? “That guy at the Arc de Triomphe was Order. How did they track us?”
I pulled my shoulders out from between Jack and Lydia to swivel and peer behind us. We were skirting the river now, and seemed to be alone. “I think we lost him. Just drive us a little farther—”
“Unnecessary,” Cole said under his breath. He was crammed against the door on the other side of the car, with Lydia next to me and Jack on my other side.
“What do you mean, unnecessary?” I said. “He was right behind you. He’s been following us—we have to get out of here.”
Cole smirked out the window. “Yes. I’m very scared.”
Elodie swiveled to stare at him.
Stellan groaned. “Merde, El. That’s your knee somewhere I don’t want your knee.”
She ignored him. “What’s your problem?” she said to Cole. “What do you mean by that?”
“Cole,” Lydia said under her breath.
“What do you think I mean?” Cole said, then to Lydia, “If we have to keep our sister around, I’m tired of her being so stupid. I know you want to tell her, too. We weren’t even careful today. And the rest of them don’t matter. Look, the Dauphin maid knows already.”
“She didn’t, but now she does.” Lydia smacked him. “You idiot. I didn’t want to have to clean this up.”
“Clean what up?” I said. “What are you talking about?”
And then I saw a look on Elodie’s usually calm, bored face I’d never seen before. Pure, unadulterated terror.
“Stop the car,” she said to the driver. She was already pulling on the door handle, fumbling with the lock, even though we were still moving, her limbs tangled with Stellan’s. “Get out. Dépêchez-vous! Avery, Jack, get out!”
I was so busy wondering if she’d lost her mind that I didn’t see Cole pull a gun until it was pointed at the back of the driver’s head. “No,” he said. “Don’t stop. Lock the doors. You, girl. Hands in the air.”
The driver went white and sped back up, and Elodie’s hands came up gradually.
“What’s going on?” I scrambled away from the twins, onto Jack’s lap, and I could feel his heart thudding against my back as he pulled me against him protectively. “Lydia? What’s—”
“You too, Keeper,” Cole said. His gun was swinging lazily between all of us, so close in the car’s small backseat, he could have pressed it to my forehead. “Hands up. Bishop, too.”
Jack slowly took his hands off my waist and put them in the air.
“What the hell, Cole?” I said.
“They didn’t care that the Order was there.” Elodie’s voice shook. “They showed up at the same time.”
I suddenly had the urge to put my hands over my ears.
“Put it together faster, sister,” Cole said, his voice mean and cold.
I felt Jack’s chest tense against my back. “No,” he whispered. Stellan turned, the shock mirrored in his eyes. And Cole’s smirk and Cole’s gun and it all hit me like a tidal wave and I was drowning.
All the time we’d spent talking, Lydia teaching me about the Circle, acting like she’d understood. We should have a secret signal in case you need anything. This one’s hot; you’ll like him.
“Yes,” Cole said, almost like he was bored, explaining something obvious to a child. “The person you call Scarface is ours. All of them are.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Lydia had been quiet, but now she sat forward, pleading. “Avery, just listen. You were planning to give whatever you found to someone you thought was Order. Of course we had to watch you.”
“But that means—” I couldn’t seem to finish a thought. Every bit of tension I’d interpreted as normal family drama. The Saxons’ insistence that they would help find my mom. Their deadline for my marriage into the Circle, so conveniently aligned with the Order’s deadline. My vision narrowed to just my sister’s eyes, so much like mine.
“None of it was real,” I whispered.
“It was real,” Lydia insisted. “It is real. I want a sister. I’m the one who convinced Cole and father to give you the chance to do what’s best for our family.”
“But you never wanted to be one of us,” Cole broke in.
I was choking on the words. “You’re—you’re the ‘Order,’” I stammered. “It’s all been you?”
In the front seat, Elodie sucked in a strangled breath.
And then a new realization dawned. “You have my mom.” I lunged toward the twins, my voice shifting into a snarl. “Where is she?”
A gun, cold at my temple. Lydia swatted it away. “Cole, no. We’re not shooting Avery. Pay attention to the rest of them, though, or they might do something they’ll regret.” Lydia held me at arm’s length, back against Jack. “Your mother is safe.”
“It’s you killing all the Circle members, too?” Elodie demanded. “Did you attack Luc today?”
“We didn’t hurt him,” Lydia said. “It was a little nudge to remind you who has the upper hand.”
Stellan and Elodie both surged forward, like they’d strangle her with their bare hands.
Cole waved his gun, and they stopped.
“You killed all those boys!” I yelled. “How could you do that? Why?”
How was it possible? I thought of the fear in the eyes of every Circle member I’d met recently. The hatred. That kind of reaction was for something truly horrifying. Not for little Lydia Saxon and the rest of my family.
“You made Eli Abraham kill himself.”
“It had to be done.” She shrugged, and in that tiny gesture, I saw exactly how it was possible. She’d giggled at Eli while he performed for us. Flirted with him like she was just a normal girl. But that same normal girl had done all this.
“You did it all yourselves?” I asked. None of us had bothered to put on a seat belt, and Jack and I both grabbed a handhold when we turned sharply. “Or did my—our—” I shuddered. “Did Alistair help, too?”
Cole scowled. “Haven’t you heard of plausible deniability? We have the same goals, but he’s too soft for most of our plans—if it were up to him, we’d be as weak as the rest of them.”
“He’s wanted you locked up and safe the whole time,” Lydia said, sounding exasperated. “He’ll be happy for an excuse to do it now.”
I knew I sounded pathetic when I said, “You’re supposed to be the good guys.”
Lydia shook her head. “There are no good guys, Avery. Did you not understand that the Dauphins—your little friends here—were trying to enslave you? And the Mikados and the Rajeshes—if you knew more about the Circle, you’d get why we couldn’t let you marry into those families. It
’s for your own good. And ours.”
“Are you saying that you killed those guys so I wouldn’t choose them?” My voice had gotten shrill. “Who are you?”
She frowned. “Who says killing a few people to get the whole Circle not only more powerful but better is wrong? We’re more right than anyone.”
“It’s got to be done,” Cole cut in. “Our oldest brother died. My father’s older brother died. It was the Circle’s fault, for being so soft. The only way for us to ensure our family’s survival is to rule them all.”
“We have the purple-eyed girl,” Lydia took over. “It’s fate. If the rest of them see that the killing spree stops once our family fulfills the mandate, there’s no way they won’t take us as their leaders. And maybe we’ll have the tomb on top of it.”
Manifest Destiny, I remembered. Fate. Disgust ripped through me.
“We have no choice.” Lydia looked me in the eye, and I could see that she believed what she was saying with every ounce of her being. “Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to for the greater good. And it’s not that I don’t respect them.” She yanked up her shirt and pointed at the tattoo of the flower half-covered in petals. “I’ll always remember them, just like the rest of the Circle will. Martyrs.”
Close up, I could tell that some of the petals were more raw and new than others. “Each petal is someone you killed,” I whispered.
Jack leaned over my shoulder, staring at Lydia’s rib cage, shell-shocked.
“You—” Stellan broke off in a string of Russian.
“Just kill him,” Lydia commanded, pulling her shirt back down. “He’s heard too much. Kill the maid, too.”
“No!” I cried. “I’ll—” Oh God, what could I do? “I’ve heard it all, too. I’ll tell someone. And you won’t kill me. Just let them go and they won’t say anything.”
Cole didn’t lower the gun. I couldn’t just sit back and watch more people I cared about get hurt. There was only one way this could end.
“I’ll come with you,” I said, “if you let them go.”
“Avery, no.” Elodie’s eyes were on Cole’s gun, calculating.