Page 83 of Dirty Little Saint

He lifts the lid and pulls out a shiny gold skeleton key. “I’m giving you the estate in the woods. The deed has already been transferred into your name. It’s the one thing I own that your father didn’t steal from me.”

My fingers tremble around the key as I take it from him. The cabin in the woods is my safe space. Which is why I was so furious when my father showed up there that day to threaten us. “Thank you, Uncle. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

He pulls me in for a hug, patting me on the back. “You have to win, Val.”

The affection almost brings me to tears. It’s not something I’ve had a lot of in my life. “I promise you, we will.”

He clears his throat to stifle the rising emotion in his voice. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I find out when the meeting will take place. Be ready.”

I stalk to the door to leave, but something else needs to be said first. I turn around and see that he’s holding his composure together with a short thread. “I’m happy you have Jessamine now. You deserve to be happy too.”

I don’t wait to hear his response lest we both collapse into piles of sniveling sobs.

With only a week away from the Spring Equinox Ball, the compulsion to be done with all this grows. Spring means the end of the semester. And a long summer break. I’d like to spend that break between Maureen’s legs and not looking over her shoulder to make sure no one is about to stab her in the back.

I text everyone to meet me at Nocturnus House before throwing Mary Shelley into drive.

We’re so close now.

Once I have everyone at the dining room table, I tell them everything my uncle shared. Riot paces around. He’s quiet and pensive. I can practically see the wheels in his head spinning. Felix fiddles with the tattered pages of his copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s collected works. The cover is so faded he must have read that book a thousand times. Atlas’s eyes glow bright like seafoam, like a deadly storm about to wipe out an entire country.

“So we wait to hear back from Julian.” Maureen is the first to break the silence.

Atlas slams his fist down on the table. “And if we don’t? We should retire them one by one now. Get them alone.”

I shake my head. “They’ve been expecting that. I would. But to ambush them when they are all together? They won’t see that coming. We’ll catch them off guard.”

“Men are cocky that way. It’s always been our downfall. History has proven that time and time again,” Felix drawls. He looks very much like a professor today with his tweed jacket and brown slacks. He takes his reading glasses off and rubs his eyes. “When you say retire… what does that mean? Murder?”

Riot leans over the table toward him, their faces inches apart. “Death is too easy, my new friend.” He pushes up his sleeves, displaying his recent marks. “We will strip them of their sigils. Carve them right the fuck out. It’s a worse fate.”

Felix’s eyes light up. “Like returning a canvas back to its original state… Fuck, that’s beautiful.”

“Yes, very poetic. And painful and messy. I’m going to enjoy every second of it,” I snicker.

“So am I,” Maureen snarls. “I can’t wait to see the look on Holden’s face when I’m the one standing over him with a dagger this time.”

Atlas’s chair groans as he stands up from the table in a rush. “If we’re going to ambush them, then I need to start working on a new batch of poison. I’ll be in the greenhouse if you need me.”

Maureen rushes over to him and grabs his arm. “I’ll come with you. You can teach me some more.”

The hardened look in his eyes softens the second she touches him. He can’t say no to her. He doesn’t want to. I can see it in the way his body angles toward her like a magnet.

Atlas takes a deep breath and presses his forehead to hers. “Okay, pretty girl. Come on.”

They clasp hands, giggling as they saunter off.

I also notice the way Felix watches the whole exchange. “You will have moments with her too,” I say.

He chuckles in disbelief. “She’s barely spoken to me since the night of my initiation.”

Riot sits down across from him and leans back in his chair, exhaustion taking over his face. “You make her nervous. Maureen doesn’t trust that easily. Just give it time.”

“Seduce her with more poetry, Professor,” I tease.

Felix smiles, but there’s a sadness that lingers in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll try that. Thanks.”

Poor guy. He looks like a wounded puppy every time she’s around. So different from how the rest of us were when we met her. To be fair, we initially hated her for being a Blackwell. But still, Felix might be more obsessed with her than we are.

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