Page 21 of What Is Dark Within Me

“Business?” Laurent stuttered.

“Answer her questions and we’ll talk. No lying. I’ll know if you do, and you’ll never see me again,” Nicolas said, directing Laurent to the couch. The older man sat with a plop and ignored the coffee spilling over his knuckles.

Aleja took a sip of her own. It was bitter, too strong even for her. She wished she’d spent the drive thinking about what she wanted to ask Laurent, instead of seething about the man next to her, but the words came easily as she pictured Violet’s face.

“A young witch met with the Diabolos Society earlier in the year. I need to know everything about her. Why she approached you, why she might have wanted to keep it a secret from others, and where she could have gone afterward?”

Thierry Laurent took a sip of coffee and made a disgusted face that did not go away when he spoke. “Violet Timmons,” he said. The sound of her name made an electrical charge pass across Aleja’s heart. Across the room, Garm’s tail thumped against the bare floor. “She was Agnes’s pet project. You should ask her.”

“Agnes Flanders is dead,” Aleja said.

Thierry’s hands shook so much that his mug clattered to the floor. It did not break, but coffee ran between the floorboards, disappearing into some cellar underneath.

“Violet brought something with her. Something inside of her, something dangerous. I wanted no part of it, but Agnes wouldn’t stop talking about the girl, even after she hadn’t shown her face for months.”

“What did Violet want from her?” Aleja asked. A long silence followed. Garm lifted his head, both ears flopping to the right. The gesture seemed innocent until his tongue darted out to lick his chops, revealing enormous teeth.

“Youwillanswer her,” Nicolas said.

Thierry grimaced. “We mostly got together to drink, to be honest. Sure, all of us might have dabbled in the Silent Arts, but we were old. Far past an age to be summoning hellhounds or lighting the black candle.”

Aleja raised an eyebrow.

All right,” Thierry admitted, “Perhaps I still light one every now and again, but I truly expected nothing. And when Violet Timmons approached the renowned exorcist Agnes Flanders, I warned her to ignore the girl.”

“You welcomedmeinto your home, but you were afraid of a girl with what, some lesser Otherlander attached to her?” Nicolas asked.

“Violet wasn’t the usual kind who sought Agnes’s help. They were mostly people who wanted out of their bargains with the fey, or who’d inadvertently attracted the attention of a spirit. Violet’s problem was unique. A piece of her had been removed and replaced with something else. It was certainly not a typical case of possession.”

“I don’t understand. Violet was a decent witch. Why couldn’t she shake the spirit off by herself?” Aleja asked. Her eyes found their way to Nicolas, whose face was no longer impassive. One of his hands curled beneath his chin, his mouth in a stern line. The dimming embers reflected off his silver eyes, making them appear to be filled with fire.

Outside, it continued to snow.

“It wasn’t simply a spirit, Miss Ruiz,” Thierry said. “The Otherlanders bargain, they cheat, they hitch rides in human bodies to make mischief. But whatever cut a piece of Violet out of her was more powerful than… well, anyone except for you, Knowing One.”

Aleja jumped to her feet, realizing her hands were balled into such tight fists her palms were damp. “But what happened? You must know something else! Where would Violet have gone if Agnes couldn’t fix her? I have these pictures, look—”

“Is that why there was a binding circle in Flanders’s basement?” Nicolas said, ignoring her outburst. Aleja was too busy fumbling with the camera to look up for Thierry’s answer.

“Binding circle?” he said, “Ah, yes. Agnes mentioned that. It was meant to make Violet whole once they’d banished the being inside her. Agnes seemed excited about the changes Violet had proposed to her usual exorcism rituals, but of course, it didn’t work.”

“Please, look at these pictures Violet took. She might have taken them somewhere around here,” Aleja began, but Nicolas interrupted.

“So it wasn’t you that drew the circle?”

“No,” Thierry said, looking from one of them to the other. “That girl was a monster. Threatened to unleash a hellhound on us should we decline to help. I wanted nothing more to do with her.”

“A hellhound? He must mean me!” Garm said. His tail wagged, fueling the fire behind him.

“She threatened you? That doesn’t sound like Violet,” Aleja said, shoving the camera in Thierry’s face. It was dim. She should have charged it before she left the apartment, but to be fair, she’d been playing host to a hellhound and the most powerful of Otherlanders.

Thierry glanced at the screen and looked up with faint alarm. He’d been excited—ecstatic—to welcome the Knowing One in, but it was Aleja who he cowered from on the stiff wooden bench.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recognize anything.” Thierry glanced at Nicolas, as if he expected the Knowing One to save him from the witch shoving a camera in his face.

“Tell her whatever else you know, or any proposal you have for me is null,” Nicolas said.

“Violet claimed she had been given a gift but felt the price she paid was too high,” Thierry stammered.

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