Page 90 of The Scarlet Veil

“AndIremain unconvinced that you aren’t a blackhearted, sadistic madman intent on destroying all that’s good in the world. You might not have killed your sister, but you’ve certainly killedothers. I would no sooner trust you than trust an adder.”

“Hmm.” He considers me for a moment—his expression cool, calm, despite his smoking hand—before tipping my tumbler of absinthe back and pocketing the silver cross once more. He shakes his head in disappointment. “Such a pity. To think, I was going to take you with me.”

I wrench my gaze away from his charred palm. “Where?” I ask suspiciously. “Why?”

“It doesn’t matter now, does it? I’m a blackhearted, sadistic madman who can’t be trusted.” He tilts his head. “Though, curiously enough, I haven’t tried to destroyyou. Do you not consider yourself among what’s good in the world, Célie Tremblay?”

“Stop twisting my words.”

“I would never.” Then— “Tell me everything you know about Cosette Monvoisin and Babette Trousset.”

My eyes narrow at the unexpected turn. “Excuse me?”

“Cosette Monvoisin,” he repeats, his own eyes glittering with sudden malice, “and Babette Trousset. You wanted to know why I brought you here, why I want you to accompany me off the isle. I need information on their relationship. Specifically, I need to know why Cosette would’ve stolen Babette’s body from the morgue.”

“You think... Coco stole Babette’s body—?” But the words die swiftly, and realization bursts to life in their wake. “You really are insane. Coco wouldneverimpede a murder investigation by—by running off with Babette’s corpse—”

“Blood witches have peculiar burial rites, do they not? Called ascension?”

“Well, yes, they burn their dead and hang the ashes in secret groves throughout La Fôret des Yeux, but Irepeat: Coco would nothave taken Babette’s body without permission.”

“Is it true that they believe a witch’s soul remains trapped on earth until they ascend? Would Coco wish to subject Babette’s soul to such torment, even temporarily? You said they were lovers.”

I scowl and lift my chin. “Anyonecould have moved Babette’s body. Just because you have a personal—and extremely misplaced—vendetta against Coco doesn’t mean she is guilty. Perhaps therealkiller returned for her body. Did you ever consider that? Perhaps the healers missed something in the autopsy, something that would’ve implicated the killer, so he returned to destroy the evidence.”

Michal spreads his hands, leaning forward upon his desk. “Enlighten me, please, mademoiselle. If not Coco, who?”

I glare at him, opening and closing my mouth like a fish. Because obviously I don’t knowwho. No one in the kingdom knowswho—not even him—and that is theentiregodforsaken problem.

“I have two viable paths before me, Célie Tremblay.” Straightening, Michal clasps his hands behind his back and strolls casually around his desk. Except there is nothing casual about Michal. Not ever. Each step falls precise, ominous, as he draws to a halt before me. “I can either investigate Cosette Monvoisin, or I can investigate Babette Trousset.” His face remains deceptively calm. “Perhaps your friends are innocent. Perhaps they are not. Either way, Iwillavenge the death of my sister, and I pity all those who stand in the way of that vengeance. Now,” he says, softer still, “which path will it be?”

A beat of silence.

Dimitri, I almost say, but I catch his name on the tip of mytongue. I have no real evidence that Dimitri killed Mila or anyone else, and until I do, I cannot betray his friendship. Michal tolerates Dimitri’s tangential involvement in Mila’s death; if I tell him that Dimitri actuallykilledher, Michal won’t hesitate. He’ll tear the beating heart from his cousin’s chest without waiting for proof.

Neither can I betray Coco.

Michal continues to wait, clearly expecting an answer.

“You don’t needmeto tell you anything about Babette Trousset.” Frustration spikes, sharp and sudden, at his complete and utter obstinacy. “You can compel any one of the witches in her coven to tell you everything you need to know about her—not that it matters. We have a greater chance of finding a needle in a haystack than finding her body now.”

“Let your idiotic brethren find her body. Her body isn’t important. What we need to know is why the killer returned for it and not the others.”

“They arenotidiotic,” I say hotly.

He waves a dismissive hand. “They are inept. For months now, they’ve skirted around the periphery, searching for our mystery killer without unearthing a single suspect. In a week, you’ve managed to position yourself in the very heart of this investigation—as well as learned how to kill vampires, walk through the veil, and communicate with the dead. You also have a unique knowledge of witches, mermaids, and—unless I’m much mistaken—werewolves, all of whom call you friend.”

My cheeks flush at the unexpected words. I stare at him, confused, as his praise washes through me in a hot wave. I’m not quite sure if I’m floating or drowning in it, however. Never before has anyone been so—soflatteringto me, yet from Michal, it somehowisn’t flattery at all. By his curt, matter-of-fact tone, we could be discussing the weather. “I”—I blink stupidly, unsure how to respond—“I don’t think—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupts. “Youthink, which is why you’re twice as valuable as every huntsman in Chasseur Tower. I will not force your hand, however. If you don’t wish to join me, I’ll return you to your room, and I’ll personally ensure you remain unbothered until All Hallows’ Eve.” A pause. “Is that what you want?”

The softtick, tick, ticks of his maiden clock are the only sounds that punctuate the silence. And my heartbeat. It beats a treacherous rhythm in my chest, threatening to burst forth and ruin everything.Is that what you want?No one has ever asked methatquestion before either, and I—I stare at him helplessly. In a handful of hours, I’ve gone from plotting to kill Michal to—towhat? Absolving him of guilt? Seeking his praise? I nearly weep with frustration at the impossible choice before me.

If I agree to join Michal, we might find the killer.

If I agree to join Michal, I’ll be helping one too.

“Promise you won’t kill anyone,” I whisper. “P-Promise you’ll let the Chasseurs have the killer if we find them, and promise you won’t interfere with their sentence.”

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