Page 25 of All Hallows Trick

It was extremely awkward to talk to someone who thought we were alone, knowing there were invisible men listening in. Virgil stepped forward; I exhaled a rough breath of relief.

“Duncan, this is my brother, Virgil. Virgil, this is Duncan, my friend.” Who I got arrested because Nightmare held Virgil captive.

“I know absolutely nothing about you, nice to meet you,” Virgil said, ignoring the look I shot his way. At least he sounded like himself, not like he’d been captive and experimented on for weeks.

“Likewise, Virgil,” Duncan said with a rusty laugh. “Thanks for coming to bail me out, anyway,” he said to me, casting a look around the street the station sat on. The same street where I watched Virgil mutilate the florist while in beast form. If he was remembering that, he didn’t let it show.

“I…” I dragged a hand down my hair. “Duncan, there’s something I need to tell you. Poet, can you give us a little privacy on the way back?”

“Sure.” Virgil’s eyes lingered, weighing my mood.I’m fine,I said with a long look. I was tangled up with guilt, but I was better than Duncan; I hadn’t been locked up for days.

“What’s up?” Duncan asked when I set off walking towards the road that curved all the way up to Ford. It was hell to walk, but at least it wasn’t raining. Or snowing. I still couldn’t shake the unease I felt whenever it snowed, the reminder of the day I found Caroline mauled too fresh in my mind. I didn’t ask if Virgil killed her, or if one of the other subjects did. I didn’t want to know.

“The reason I asked Virgil to hang back is because…” I sighed, stuffing my hands in my pockets, brushing my thumb over the black card there, over and over. “Nightmare took him. Kidnapped him. Held him captive.”

“Jesus,” Duncan breathed, his eyes wide when he darted a look at me. “I’d never have guessed to look at him.”

“She…” I couldn’t look at him, could only look at the road stretching away in front of us, snaking its way up the hill to where Ford lorded over the whole island. “She said she’d kill him if I didn’t do what she told me to.”

He was quiet for a moment. I sensed him watching me, but I was too big a coward to look at him. “Did she make you kill someone else?”

He remembered me telling him about Darya. I shook my head.

“Then what?” he asked, his voice quiet and non-judgemental. It hurt, a direct hit to my conscience.

I forced myself to look at him, regret and apology making my eyes wet as I looked at him for a long moment, trying to find the words.

“She made you get me locked up,” Duncan sighed, figuring it out. “Yeah, that fits her twisted M.O.”

“I’m so—” I choked out.“Sosorry, Duncan.”

He shook his head hard, the lack of his hair still new and strange. He looked different, harsher. It fit everything that had happened to him since Halloween, I guessed. “She had you overa barrel. You weren’t going to let your brother die. I wouldn’t have, either. Not that my brother’s worth saving. But I’d have done the same for Orwell.”

“Your cousin,” I murmured, guilt choking my words. I still remembered the vacant look on his face at the Halloween party, his aubergine emoji costume a horrific contrast to the glassiness of his eyes. Nightmare had sucked the life from him. “I remember.”

I wasn’t just saying I remembered his name. I remembered him that night. Remembered his Death. Duncan’s shoulders hunched, his head down. Had he spoken to anyone about what happened? His friends had turned against him, Fashion Magazine doing a good job of slandering his reputation. Had Duncan processed losing Orwell at all? Had I processed losing Byron?

“Yeah,” Duncan said, a world of pain in that word.

“If you—if you ever need to talk about any of this shit,” I said haltingly, “I think it’s probably better to talk about it than let it fester. If you don’t hate me for what I’ve done, that is.”

“I don’t hate you.” At my surprised look, he added, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m angry. At you and at Nightmare. But I don’t hate you. How did you do it? Get me set up for murder?”

My stomach whirled as we climbed the hill until I felt sick. “She made me sneak into Ford House with the crossbow. I planted it in your wardrobe.” I couldn’t look at him. I was going to throw up.

He sighed. “That makes sense.”

I stared at him. “That’s all you have to say?That makes sense?”

Duncan shrugged, the movement drawing my attention to the shirt he wore. Shit, he must be freezing. “I wondered how it had ended up there. I had a lot of time to think while Iwas locked up. I knew it had to be Nightmare and one of her followers—”

“I amnotone of her followers.”

“We’re all a single threat away from being her followers,” Duncan sighed, frowning when I unbuttoned my coat. “I’m not sure it’s my style, Cat.”

“Shut up and take the damn coat,” I huffed, plucking the card from the pocket and putting it in my jeans pocket. “You look freezing; it’s making me feel cold.”

“As opposed to being coatless and toasty as fuck,” he drawled, giving me a beleaguered look as he accepted the coat and yanked it up his arms. It strained at his shoulders but he got a few buttons fastened. “Very chivalrous,” he remarked.

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