Page 554 of Flirting with Darkness

It did not worry him particularly, but he believed in providing himself with options in the event his father turned out to be cleverer than most. Ghost had been in sticky situations many times before. Moreover, he found rich people tended to be sloppy and foolish when it came to other rich people. He doubted Count Aslanov would be any different.

Still, it was best not to underestimate one’s opponents.

That was particularly true when one knew very little about them.

Ghost had to admit he reallydidn’tknow very much. Most of what he learned came from the gossip pages, and from whatever rumors and whisperings he could pull from his rich friends in England and France.

When she appeared in the seat across from him, he didn’t notice at first.

He did not see her sit down.

That should have been enough to create some alarm.

Somehow, it did not.

She didn’t disturb his reading. She moved in a way so unobtrusive, so silent, he didn’t even look up. He simply sat there with her, for some unknown span of time. Even once hehadlooked up, he didn’t flinch, or gasp, or even startle.

He scarcely reacted to the strangeness of her being there at all.

He looked up from the book. He blinked.

She smiled at him.

It only occurred to him later that the train itself vanished behind her.

Behind where she sat, he saw only writhing darkness.

He didn’t react to that either.

The other train passengers disappeared. He’d noted about ten who had gradually filtered into the car with him, drinking wine or sherry or tea, eating pastries, chewing on loaves of bread, eating custard or charcuterie, chatting with other passengers.

He could see and hear none of it now.

Still, he did not react.

The full moon shone in the sky above her head.

Strange symbols floated there, glowing in amber and green light. Orange and red flashes of fire lit the undersides of heavy clouds.

He watched her smile at him, one dark eyebrow cocked.

“It won’t be enough,” she told him.

He blinked again. He stared at her.

He had not seen his grandmother or his aunts in years, could scarcely remember their faces, anything about what they looked like, but he found himself reminded of them now.

It couldn’t be his grandmother, of course. It couldn’t even be his aunts.

This woman was far too young.

Besides… his grandmother was dead.

“It won’t be enough,” she repeated.

She reached out, laying small, dark fingers on his arm. “There be a reason no one can touch him, m’love. Why no one’s gotten near him all this time, despite his many cruelties and crimes. You won’t beat him in the usual ways, Laz… you must stop thinking this way. This is not a lark. You are too old to play at such things, in any case.”

He flinched for real that time.

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