Page 100 of A Killing Cold

“Bullshit. He could have lived if he’d gotten help,” I say. “Nick watched us. Liam fell and he wouldn’t get up and I didn’t know what to do, so I stayed with him in the snow. And I could see Nick standing there. Waiting for us to die.”

Louise’s hands flutter, as if attempting to grasp at something invisible. “Magnus,” she says again, as if she’s pleading with him to deny it, but he looks perfectly calm.

“It was over when I got there,” Magnus says. “I did what I could to limit the damage. Including not sharing information that would only hurt people.”

“But telling Alexis that her dad killed himself because of her, that was fine?” I shoot back. Magnus interlaces his fingers before him and offers no answer.

Louise lays her palms firmly on the arms of the chair. She stares into the distance for a long moment, and then she squares her shoulders. “None of this changes what we need to do,” she says deliberately. “We have to protect our family. We need—”

“Oh, fuck you, Grandma,” Connor says. The whole room falls to shocked silence. “Protect our family? You mean protect our reputation. Protect a killer.”

“I mean that we need to protect your sister. Alexis,” Louise says.

Alexis is still kneeling, but she’s upright now. Paloma’s arms are around her loosely. Alexis’s eyes are fixed on the floor. Her jaw clenches. I can imagine what she’s thinking. She’s not her grandmother. She doesn’t want me dead. But still, there’s that voice, that instinct for self-preservation.

She killed someone. You don’t just get to walk away from that.

“If we make the right decisions here, this is a tragedy, not a disaster,” Louise says. “Think about the consequences if all this gets out. Or we all agree on what happened, and—”

“No,” Alexis says. Her eyes look sunken, ringed with dark circles. “I’ll confess. I’m not going to go along with it any longer. I never should have.”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Louise says. “To your family. You—”

“Lou,” Magnus says. She falters. He stands up. Connor tenses, but Magnus only puts his hands in his pockets and looks around at everyone, as if taking in the scene. “I’d like to speak to Theo alone.”

“Like hell,” Connor says.

Magnus meets my eyes. I think part of me has always understood Magnus, the way that he has always understood me. “It’s all right,” I say. Connor looks bewildered, but Magnus nods. He holds out a hand, a genteel gesture to usher me out of the room.

“We can speak in the study,” he says.

“Theo, what are you doing?” Connor keeps his voice low. I squeeze his hand once.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be right back,” I tell him.

He doesn’t stop me. Neither does anyone else. Behind us, the room is deathly silent as I exit, Magnus following behind.

46

Magnus says nothing as we make our way to the study. I step inside and pause; he closes the door and walks past me, to the sideboard where a decanter of Scotch sits.

“Drink?” he asks.

“Is this one drugged?”

He laughs. “A little late for that, don’t you think?” He pours himself a measure, sips, and then stands tilting the glass to examine the liquid. “I used to hate Scotch, you know. I drank it only because it seemed like it was what I was supposed to do. Part of the businessman image. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that I didn’t like it.”

He pours another glass and holds it out to me, but I don’t move. He shrugs.

“Suit yourself.”

“Why are we here, Magnus?” I ask.

“I did try to save you, you know,” Magnus says.

“I know. You sent me those messages. Left me that gift,” I say.

“And I didn’t tell a soul. The only people up here who knew you survived were myself and Mr. Vance, and I knew I could trust his silence,” Magnus tells me. “Louise wouldn’t have allowed it. Nick certainly wouldn’t.”

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