Page 49 of Black Hearts

16

Celeste

My heart dropped as jaggedblack terror ripped through me.

I slowly turned to look at Bill, praying it was nothing and that he’d take his wrinkled hand off my shoulder any second now; praying he wouldn’t notice the stark horror in my eyes.

He pulled his hand back and stared at me, leaning on his polished wooden walking stick with his other arm. He’d never needed one in the past, but I’d noticed earlier that his left leg seemed quite stiff now. I guess his age was finally starting to catch up with him, and he couldn’t walk or run like he used to. Unfortunately, that little fact wasn’t going to help me one bit if he’d figured out who I really was. He didn’t need to chase me down; he was already standing right here, only inches away.

“More whisky,” he demanded curtly, gesturing toward the service cart.

Thank god….

My pulse still racing like mad, I leaned down to retrieve the Lagavulin from the cart’s second tier. I filled a clean glass for Bill, my hand trembling the entire time.

His cold blue eyes didn’t waver from my face for a second. “So where do you think you’re going?” he asked after I’d handed the drink to him.

In that moment, I sensed pure danger, cold and clear as ice. He knew my voice, so I shouldn’t speak to him, but at the same time, I could hardly ignore him and walk away without responding.

I tried to make my voice lighter and airier than usual so he wouldn’t recognize it. “To get another tray of drinks,” I said. “And to see if I can get some more help in here. One serving maid doesn’t seem like enough for all these people.”

My trick to try and change my voice didn’t work. Something immediately flickered over Bill’s face, a wary twitch tightening his lips and nose. He stared at me intently, looking past the makeup and the hair and the lenses, finally seeing the real me for the first time. “You,” he said, his tone quiet but deadly. He moved around the cart, blocking the door. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

My luck had finally run dry.

“Fuck. You have to leave!” Alex shouted through my earpiece. “Try and lock them in there any way you can. You can’t let them out!”

He was right. Now that I’d been made, Bill and the others would obviously come after me. I had to get myself out and block the doors before they could do that, or else they’d escape the house and therefore the fate we’d decided upon for them. I couldn’t let that happen. Not when we’d already come so far.

Blood pounded in my ears, and my body went into some sort of strange autopilot mode, doing things before I even realized I was moving. I kicked one leg out at Bill’s cane, sending him flying to the ground, and then I grabbed the stick and held it tightly.

The guards by the fireplace sprang into action, sprinting toward us. The other Circle members had also noticed that something was happening by now, and they were staring over at us with dark, uneasy looks, presumably wondering why the hell a maid had just dared to attack their dear leader.

I stared down at Bill. I knew I could use the cane to smash his face in if I wanted to, even though it wasn’t the reason I’d picked it up. A red mist seemed to descend over my vision at the thought, and I pictured myself jabbing it into his eyes, watching and smiling grimly as the blood spurted out. Then I saw Evangeline’s young face flashing in the forefront of my mind, shuttered and tormented, and I wanted to hurt Bill even more. I wanted to feel his bones splinter under the cane, wanted to feel his flesh explode into pulp.

Alex’s voice drew me out of my haze a split second later, yanking me back to reality. “Celeste, get out!” he shouted into my earpiece, his tone fraught with fear for my life. “Now!”

Bill was still lying prone on the polished parquet floor, yelling orders at the fast-approaching guards. I leapt over him and pushed my way through the doors before closing them as fast as I could. Then I used the cane for the purpose I initially intended, shoving it horizontally through both ornate door handles. Now, no one on the other side would be able to push the doors open. Eventually, they’d be able to smash their way through with sheer brute force, but it would take a while.

I stared at the beautiful, terrifying doors for a few more seconds. With them sealed like this in real life, they were slowly sealing in my mind as well. Somehow, from this moment on, I knew I’d stop having those dark dreams and flashbacks about them opening. My mind would never again wander into that opulent ballroom beyond, with all its lavish wonders and chilling horrors.

Gulping down a deep breath, I turned away and ran like hell.

As I dashed through the long halls and headed toward the front entrance, it occurred to me that this was the first time I’d been able to run with zero back and shoulder pain in over a year. The aching, burning nerve pain had vanished, and all I felt was the adrenaline flying through me in great white-hot bursts, just like it did when I used to run for exercise in Frick Park.

I finally flew out the main entrance, and I ran right into Alex’s waiting arms. But there was no time for relieved hugs or sweet words. He pulled back, took my hand and drew me toward the marble fountain that lay twenty yards from the door in the middle of the driveway.

He handed me a lighter and gestured toward a long roll of cotton wool that lay on the ground. It was soaked through with diesel fuel and drawn out to its full length, wrapping around the top of an enormous newspaper pouch which sat up by the front entrance, where I’d just run away from. I couldn’t see inside it, but I knew the pouch was filled with ammonium nitrate fertilizer; more than enough to raze several thousand square feet.

I flicked the lighter on, watching the tiny orange flame dance in the darkness. Alex nodded and put one hand on my shoulder. “Do it.”

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