by Scott Tracey
“So what do you think?” Trey asked, leaning against one of the island counters.
I think maybe this is a trap. My stomach was crawling. “It’s … interesting.”
His eyes locked on mine. “That’s it?”
“What do you expect?”
He shrugged, and looked away. “Most people act a little more impressed.”
“You want me to ooh and ahh?”
He looked annoyed, which I didn’t understand. “Forget it.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d done to piss him off.
“Sometimes, you’re so—” He cut himself off, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Forget it.” He opened the refrigerator door and rooted around inside. After a moment he emerged with a pair of bottled waters. He tossed one to me, which I managed to catch without dropping. Hurray for Team Braden on that one.
“Hey, I didn’t even want to do this today,” I said. “So if I did something to piss you off, you might as well say something.”
The look I got in reaction was incredulous. “Do you have any idea how much of a risk my mother’s taking? And you’re so ungrateful. She’s doing this to help you, and you act like you can’t even be bothered.”
Now it was my turn for surprise. I wanted to laugh, but didn’t. “This doesn’t have anything to do with helping me. Or helping you, for that matter. This is all about collecting the new piece on the chess board.”
Surprising both of us, Catherine’s voice cut through the budding argument and stopped my irritation cold. “And how’s Braden enjoying his tour of the house, Gentry?” She swept into the room in demure silver cashmere and jeans. Her hair was pulled up, leaving her looking not a day past thirty, let alone mother to two teenagers. She reminded me of the stories of the faerie Ice Queen I’d heard when I was younger.
Trey glanced my way, his expression unreadable. “I think he’s a little underwhelmed.”
“Have you taken him through the library yet? He might find something there to whet his appetite,” she said casually, as if she just invited everyone in to peruse her books. “Or maybe he’d like to see the trophy room?”
“You have a trophy room?” I blurted out without thinking. Catherine’s amused chuckle was all it took for my face to flush.
“It’s really just a room to collect some important memorabilia,” Catherine said, her voice warm. She was really freaking me out with the Happy Homemaker thing. “Some of my sister’s early art is in there. And Gentry has a few swimming trophies in there too, don’t you, dear?”
Trey nodded. It was still hard for me to picture him as a Gentry. The name fit, but it was still strange. “Our Aunt Alex lives in New York,” he explained for my benefit. “You’ll probably like her work. She uses a lot of light and color.”
I almost choked on my water at that, and the way Trey’s gaze was homed in on me. “I didn’t realize you had any brothers or sisters, Mrs. Lansing,” I said, trying to recover some semblance of control over myself.
“Catherine, Braden. Call me Catherine. I insist.” The request hardened her voice, suggesting I wouldn’t like it if I didn’t listen this time. “Especially if we’re going to be working together soon.”
“Sorry, of course, Catherine.” I twisted the cap back onto the water, and then kept twisting, feeling the grooves of the plastic top pulling at my skin. “I don’t know what Trey’s told you, but I … can’t be involved in whatever it is you’re involved in.”
The two of them shared a look before Catherine turned another beaming smile in my direction. “No one’s asking you to do anything you don’t believe in, Braden.”
Trey was right there to chime in after her. Almost like they’d planned this. “But you don’t have any idea what Jason Thorpe will do to you. I told you he’s a monster, Braden. I wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Jason isn’t the one who tried to kill me,” I said, watching Catherine.
I expected some sort of shock, a stumble or a flicker in her eyes that would admit that she knew what I was talking about. But there was only a moment where she absorbed the words, turning fully to me. Studying me, almost like it was the first time.
“Braden!” Trey’s face was instantly scarlet.
Catherine held up a hand, warding him off. “And someone’s convinced you … ahh, I see.” Her lips pursed out, and for a second it looked like she was going to smile. “Someone tried to kill you? You’re sure?”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
She moved past her son and opened the refrigerator. She pulled out a tray full of small, golden pastries with some sort of white and gold cream on top. “I almost forgot. It’s a new recipe I’m thinking of introducing at the restaurant.”
“Mom, I didn’t—”
“It’s fine, Gentry,” she murmured. The plate was set on the island between us, Catherine and me. “Braden’s right to be suspicious.” She leaned on the counter, eyes locked with mine. “But you already know I wasn’t responsible, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t know. Maybe.”
I couldn’t look away from her eyes. It was like I was locked in place. “You snuck in under my nose, influenced my children, and flaunted your gifts for all to see. But if I’d wanted you out of my way, Braden, I have had two days to rectify that situation.”
“Mom … ” Trey’s voice was a warning.
“Just making sure Braden understands I’m not the monster he seems to think,” she said, as if we were talking about anything other than murder. “Although I have a good idea who’s been planting these nasty little ideas in your head.”
She knows. My heart wasn’t content to leap into my throat: it slammed against my ribs, snapped my chest in half, punched a hole through my stomach, and nearly—
“You boys should try some of these. I made a fresh batch last night.” With a sly smile in my direction, she added, “They’re just sinful.”
My hand had reached out and grabbed at one of the delicacies while I was still in the midst of my panic state. I couldn’t help myself; my fingers moved without my control.
Catherine didn’t seem to notice; her smile was simple indulgence. “You know better than that, don’t you, my boy? I would never ruin a useful tool before I had a chance to test it out. Although keeping you out of Jason’s grasp does make a certain amount of sense as well.”
My lips parted, the doughy dessert starting to melt the second it touched my tongue, leaving behind only a sweet explosion of icing. The taste shocked me out of whatever fugue state I’d been in.
I glanced at Trey. He had turned to face one of the windows, his head shaking. A queasiness started to unravel in my stomach. I forced myself not to look at Catherine again—it was something in her eyes that kept me from looking away. Something wasn’t right here. Something had gone very wrong.
“What brought you to Belle Dam, Braden? My son mentioned your family was going through some sort of separation?”
The words came out almost automatically. I didn’t even realize I’d spoken until after I was done. “I lived with my uncle, but he was in trouble. I had to get away from him.”
That wasn’t what I’d meant to say. My eyes widened slightly, thankfully hidden from Catherine’s expectant look.
“That’s enough, Mother.” Trey’s voice was firm as he turned away from the window and came to stand by me. “Besides, you have a visitor.”
“Braden and I are just getting to know one another,” she replied smoothly, resting her perfectly manicured nails against the marble countertop. “Aren’t we, Braden?”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, Catherine,” I blurted. What was wrong with me?
I looked to Trey, but he was staring at his mother. What was I missing?
Catherine wasn’t about to be told what to do by her child. “You’re not trying to hurt my son, are you,
Braden? This isn’t some game to snare yourself a Lansing, is it?”
“I’m trying not to. It’s the last thing I want,” I said, again without thinking. It was like the filter between my mouth and my brain was gone, and everything that was coming out was …
She couldn’t have. I would have known if Catherine had used magic against me, felt it brush against my skin or something. The nausea in my stomach was getting worse, threatening to unleash contents in my stomach that weren’t even there.
“Come along, Catherine. We have business to attend to, and I have to be back in the city before dark.” Lucien swept into the room, clad in a tailored blue suit.
Catherine and Lucien were working together screamed through my head. Followed immediately by he’s going to tell her about me. I spun around, but Trey was blocking my way like a wall of steel. I tried pushing my way past him, but he wasn’t going anywhere. I could see the tension tightening the lines on his face, and knew he wasn’t any happier to see Lucien than I was.
“Have you met Braden yet, Lucien? Braden Michaels, isn’t it?” Catherine swept her gaze between the two of us.
Lucien’s expression was inscrutable. “Your son finds himself a beau, and you invite him over for a playdate. How very modern of you.”
Catherine’s hollow chuckle reverberated through the room. “You should know that my family has always been very accepting of our own. All the more reason for you to reconsider.”
Reconsider what? I pressed my lips together, afraid of what might come out.
“A pity Jason missed out on this one,” Catherine murmured, a hint of feral satisfaction settling across her face. “He’ll be quite the talented apprentice, won’t you?”
She looked at me, and my tongue loosened itself once more. “My uncle never thought so. He said the magic came too easily to me, and it made me lazy. Not like him.” My mouth opened to continue, a fact I realized with horror, and I bit down as hard as I could.
Fire lanced through my tongue, betrayed by the nearby teeth. The throbbing heat that burned my mouth stopped whatever else I had been about to say. It gave me the opportunity I needed. I shoved at Trey, trying to make him relent.
He grabbed my arm, the muscles in his jaws flexing. “I’m taking Braden out to see the gardens. He’s starting to look a little green.” He didn’t wait for Catherine or Lucien to acknowledge us, but pulled me to the French doors leading outside.
Fresh air helped. The turmoil in my stomach was rising higher in my throat now, preparing a passageway for everything to come back up. I almost wanted to laugh. My stomach wanted to betray me too, but there was nothing there to unleash.
I leaned over one of the stone railings, gasping in huge breaths of air. This was the second time today I’d felt nauseous, and I wasn’t enjoying it.
“I don’t know why she meets with him. He’s a snake.” Trey’s voice was grim behind me.
I couldn’t focus on that. I had to spend all my energy keeping my stomach in line. It was wasted effort.
I heaved, and heaved, and heaved some more. The pastries had decomposed into something grayish and clumpy as I threw them up. Right into one of the bushes.
I couldn’t see Trey, only the bush in front of me. The constant heaving made my glasses start to slip down, and I closed my eyes. With each successive attempt to purge everything inside of me, my eyes opened just a slit.
The pile of goo that had been in my stomach a minute before glowed with gold fire. Catherine had used magic on me after all.
Twenty-Seven
“What are you hiding from me, Braden?” Trey’s tone was gentle, but there was an unmistakable demand to his words.
It was a spell. My mind started unraveling it, seeing the strands of silver and gold that had been hidden inside the food. How had she managed to do that? And why hadn’t I seen it coming?
You never eat the food when you come to a witch’s house. Even fairy tales tell you that. Everything started falling into place. Jason had told me that Catherine had found a way to channel her power in a new way. It wasn’t in the food itself, but somehow woven into the crafting of it—an ingredient that wasn’t apparent in the final product.
It was some sort of truth spell. The magic was subtle, even in its current state. More Jason’s style than mine.
I had to know that the effects had worn off, to know that it was safe to open my mouth again. “I’m really a girl,” I muttered, my tongue shrieking with every motion.
When I looked up, I could see the shock in Trey’s eyes. “What?” His face had gone white, and if I wasn’t currently vomiting up my nonexistent breakfast, I might have laughed.
“It isn’t working anymore,” I went on. “Save your breath. And your questions.”
My gag reflex started to diminish, and I rested my head against the cool marble stone and practiced my breathing. My body was already starting to recover now that the magic was gone from inside of it.
“What are you talking about?”
Had he known? Why else ask me that question? “That was the point of dinner, wasn’t it? Give Braden the magical roofie and watch him spill his guts. See if he’s got any deep, dark secrets your mother can exploit, right?”
“You’re talking crazy. You’re just not feeling well, that’s all.” Someone had flipped a switch, and now Trey was all gentleness and smooth edges. Just trying to make sure I was okay. I wasn’t.
“I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea,” I raged. “She basically threatened me, and you don’t even see it.”
“Hey!” He grabbed the fabric over my shoulder and used it to yank me back up. “She wanted to get to know you. The least you could do is show a little respect.”
I struggled to get myself out of his grip, but the fact was that he was bigger than me. “Did you miss what happened in there? She tried to put a spell on me.” I shook myself. “No wait, she actually did put a spell on me.”
Trey was breathing hard, his eyes narrowed down as he glared at me. “Was she wrong? My mother’s not an idiot, Braden. You show up out of nowhere, start looking into Grace, and she’s not supposed to be suspicious? She’s worried you might be a threat.”
“Of course I’m a threat, you idiot.” I lashed out, striking him with an ineffective fist. He didn’t let go, and didn’t even budge. “It’s not like you’ve been honest the whole way through either, Mr. Lansing.”
If I’d thought he couldn’t get any more angry, I was sadly mistaken. His eyes burned like a gas flame as he pulled me forward. “This isn’t some stupid high school game. Jason’s always looking for a way to hurt my family. And he’ll hurt you if you don’t give him what he wants.”
People in Belle Dam had issues with personal space. “And what happens when she finds out what I can really do?” It was too bad the nausea was passing, because I would have really liked to purge myself all over his shoes.
Trey didn’t seem to care. He just kept pulling me closer, until we were nose to forehead. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he breathed. “We’re just trying to protect you. Jason needs to be stopped. You know he does.”
He was never going to see the truth. Catherine had raised the perfect little soldier. “Listen to yourself. You’re talking about violence.” Inspiration struck me. “People could get hurt. The last time there was a war between the Lansings and the Thorpes, they flooded the town! What, the serfs and vassals aren’t special like us so they don’t matter?”
It was the wrong thing to say. Trey shoved me back, finally releasing me. I stumbled, barely catching myself on the railing. “Of course you wouldn’t understand,” he seethed. “You’re just a kid.”
Just a kid? Trey didn’t have a clue what my life was actually like. Just being some spoiled kid would have been a blessing. I almost told him everything, right at that moment, until something drew my atte
ntion to a far corner of the house.
The house was shaped like a backward “L” from what I could see, and the rear part of the house looked much different from the rest. New siding had been put up, but it was clearly part of a much older structure. Above the house, a railing circled the roof. A widow’s walk. Standing against the edge, a finger pressed to where her mouth should be, a veiled woman with glittering eyes was looking down on me.
I reached up, not to pull off my glasses, but to make sure they were still there. The woman was transparent; I could see the old bricks of the cupola through her midsection. But I could see her, even through the glasses.
She didn’t speak out loud, but I could hear her just the same. Be silent, she said. Don’t act. This was the woman I’d glimpsed in the vision last night in the cemetery. Seeing her again was like an anchor, allowing the details to be dredged up. In all the confusion of dark magic, attacks, and adrenaline, I’d forgotten about her. True power locked away, keys that cannot be held or felt or seen. Torn into death, from one world to the next.
I wanted to protest, to explain that I didn’t understand. But Trey was still standing behind me, and I couldn’t just start talking to myself. I knew without question that he wouldn’t see the veiled woman. Grace.
I turned back to him. “You’re right.” I kept my voice quiet and low. “I don’t want any of this.” I walked past the railing and into the garden, following the side of the house back toward the front.
“Where are you going?” he shouted, still rooted in place on the patio.
I shrugged and kept moving. I’d been about to tell Trey the truth about everything—why I was here, and about Jason. Grace had warned me to stop. What I couldn’t figure out was, why?
¤ ¤ ¤
Jade was just getting out of Trey’s car when I reached the front of the house.
“What’s wrong?” she said cautiously, hesitating with the car door. Whether to shut it and move on, or get back in.
“I’m a threat to your mother’s evil empire, and your brother and I are fighting again.” My words were short and succinct, a rapid-fire summary of the afternoon.