Page 80 of Us in Ruins

“He’s the one with the heart of stone—with or without some curse. He’s a thief, a cheat, a nobody who faked his way here. He’s—”

“Standing right here,” Van said, irritation coating each word.

Astrid disregarded the peanut gallery. “And then he stole our family legacy. Well, now he’s going to make it up to me by getting me the treasure and getting rid of you.”

Margot had been completely taken advantage of and she hadn’t even realized. She’d tried to extend an olive branch—tried to make Astrid like her, tried to win her approval. It never mattered. Astrid was as conniving and manipulative as her ancestor. She’d been pulling Enzo’s marionette strings the whole time, just so that they could end up right here.

“Funny,” Astrid mused. “I had planned to sacrifice Enzo, so you have Van to thank—it was his idea to send you that letter.” She smirked when Margot flinched like she’d been backhanded. “He told me you’d come running, and he wasn’t wrong. It was going to be such a hassle otherwise.”

Margot turned to Van—Van, who needed to be where the Vase was. Instead of searching aimlessly for Enzo, he’d gone straight to the puppet master, not caring that Margot was the one who got tangled in her strings.

“How could you?” Margot asked Van. Fury coiled in her lungs, a viper in a basket, ready to strike.

“You can have your lover’s spat later,” Astrid said. She paced the alcove’s archway, blocking Margot’s exit. “Let’s go.”

“What about me?” Enzo balked. Without the shards close enough to reanimate him, Charon didn’t seem inclined to let him go... ever.

Astrid pinched the bridge of her nose. “After you botched your one job? I don’t think so.”

“Someone still has to turn to stone,” Margot argued.

Enzo blanched. “Never mind. I’m good.”

Margot’s mouth opened to retaliate, but Astrid held up a shushing finger. “Van, it’s time to take me to the temple,” she said.

The muscle of his jaw twinged, teeth clenching.

“Oh, my god,” Margot said. “You’re seriously going to help her.”

“I don’t have a choice.” Each word was serrated. He shook his head, a statement in a single movement, and Margot’s heart sank like a skipping stone after its last splash.

Astrid’s smug smile returned. “No, he doesn’t. I know I was right about the inscription—Aureus, amor aeternus et cor lapideum. Golden, eternal love with a heart of stone. But you finally figured that out, didn’t you?”

Margot glanced toward Van, toward the death grip he had on his single shard. One piece of the Vase would keep him from succumbing to the curse. He could run, right now, and never look back.

For a fraction of a second, she let herself imagine what it might have been like—walking out of the ruins together, him cramming into the seat next to her on the gazillion-hour flight back to Georgia and carrying her suitcases up the front porch steps: coming home with her, fitting into her life like a long-missing piece.

As long as he had that sliver of clay, he could be there with her, anywhere. Whole and human and hers. But the curse Venus placed on the Vase wouldn’t just evaporate. They’d be haunted by it. Always triple-checking, worried that someday she’d look over her shoulder and he’d be stone. If they re-formed the Vase in the temple, maybe he could break the curse for good.

And even if they didn’t, even if another Ashby turned him to stone in search of treasure, even if he literally had a chance to do it all over again, Margot knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Walking away wasn’t an option for him.

With a grimace, Van said, “Follow me.”

Margot had given up on him once before. She wouldn’t do it again. Dr. Hunt was right: she had to finish what she started.

“If you’re really going to do this, then I’m coming, too,” Margot said.

Van, not Astrid, objected. “No, you aren’t. It’s too dangerous.”

It was cute, the way he was trying to be protective. Cute and useless. He’d forfeited his right to cuteness the minute he started working with Astrid.

This was like one of the trials, a puzzle she could solve. Astrid’s white-knuckle clutch on the linen bag holding the first three shards wasn’t going to loosen, so coaxing her into the temple was the only way to take them from her. Still, negotiating with Astrid felt like striking a deal with the very blonde devil.

“I’ve got the last shard,” Margot said. “And I’m coming with it.”

Astrid tugged her eyebrows in tightly as she thought. Then, she yanked open her linen bag and said, “Only if you hand it over. Now.” She glanced between Margot and Van. “Both of you.”

---