Page 68 of Once a Villain
The bedrooms ran along a hallway, with views to the west of the estate. Joan walked slowly down the corridor, exhaustion making her legs feel lead-weighted. As she reached her door, footsteps sounded behind her—someone else was heading to bed too. They hadn’t been in the library; they must have come in from a walk outside.
It was Aaron. He paused for a moment when he saw her, and then continued on, avoiding her eyes as he walked past her.
Joan hesitated, a hand still raised to push open her door. For a second, she had the urge to just go into her room. To ignore the unsettled feeling that had been roiling in the pit of her stomach since Aaron had seen her and Nick on the hill. But as Aaron reached the end of the corridor, she found herself blurting, “Aaron,wait.”
He slowed to a stop and turned to face her. Along the wall, sconce lamps spilled soft light into the hall. It was otherwise an intimidating space, the wallpaper dark green with gold edges, the carpet plush and black. Aaron often seemed out of place when they were out on the street, but not here. He matched the wealth on display, the light turning his hair to burnished gold.
“Are you well?” he said stiffly. “Still grounded?”
Joan wished suddenly that shehadn’tstopped him. She’d wanted to clear the air, but it felt right now as if there was no air in the corridor at all. “Yes,” she said. “I guess I just needed to eat.”
His eyes roved over her face before dropping to the carpet. “You must tell me if anything changes. Even the most subtle muting of sound, or—or of touch, could be significant.”
Joan swallowed. He always looked out for her. It had taken her a long time to realize that. At first, it had seemed as if he was just paying off a debt, but then he’d kept looking out for her, long beyond that.
She thought again of his expression on that hill.Do you have feelings for me?she wanted to say. That had seemed so unlikely when they’d first met. She and Aaron hadn’t gotten along.They’d come from such different backgrounds—Joan from ordinary human suburbia, Aaron from the monster world and almost unimaginable wealth. Some part of Joan still thought it was unlikely. His wealth aside, his beauty was startling. She’d never seen anyone like him,in real life or in movies. Aaron could have hadanyone.
Lately, though, she’d begun to notice how his sharp edges softened when he was with her. How he turned to her first whenhe entered a room. And then on the hill... the way he’d looked at her...
“Aaron—”
“I do not wish to speak of it.”
She felt her chest spasm again, unexpectedly. “Okay.”
He shifted his weight, and she expected him to continue to his bedchamber without saying anything more. But instead he put a hand carefully on the wall as if for balance. “I am glad that you reconciled with him,” he said. His gray eyes lifted to hers again, and his expression made her heart wrench. “I heard everything that Eleanor said at the end. You and Nick were together in thezhenshí de lìshi. The timeline itself will always bring you back together. And... I’ve seen you with him; I’ve seen how you look at him. I have no illusions. I know that, for you, it will always be Nick. Even if he turns against us after we defeat Eleanor, it will always be him for you.”
Twenty-One
Joan paced the Olivers’ formal garden. It had rained all night, and the sky was splotchy and gray. Water dripped from the carved hedges: mermaids, swordfish, and spiraled shells. Joan’s head was still heavy with exhaustion. She took a deep breath of cold air, forcing herself to think. “If Jamie’s theory is right—that Eleanor will have to be close to the killings—”
“I’m right,” Jamie said solidly.
Joan nodded. “Then we need to learn everything we can about the colosseum. We need a map of the building. Blueprints.” It was possible that they’d crack the cipher in time and figure out how the counterparts would have accessed Eleanor, but they couldn’t rely on that. They had to form a plan of their own.
“The Court doesn’t leave blueprints lying around.” Tom was on a heavy stone bench, Frankie beside him, both seeming unconcerned about the wet seat. Jamie had an umbrella stem in his gloved hand, and Sylvie was tucked safely against his chest. There wasn’t a drop of water on him, or on Sylvie’s black fur.
“We’ll have to scout it out, then,” Joan said. “We’ll need to make a map ourselves.” The two-week timeframe ahead of them was feeling tighter and tighter.
“It won’t be easy to get in,” Tom said. “Security at the colosseum is excellent. The families take the gladiator matchesseriously—they’re paranoid about their fighters being sabotaged. It’s near impossible to get into the colosseum unless you work there.”
“Nick’s counterpart escaped,” Ruth pointed out. “Security can’t be as tight as all that.”
“He’s the only person who’s ever escaped,” Tom said. “And no one knows how he did it.”
Joan looked at Nick now. He was standing just outside the door of the conservatory. Not for the first time, she was aware of the muscled heft of him. It couldn’t have been easy for his counterpart to sneak out of the gladiator pens.
She bit her lip. “I could infiltrate as a worker.” To Aaron, she said, “You could assign me to work with the Oliver gladiators. If you can get me in, I’ll scout out the building.” It would take maybe three of their precious days, Joan guessed, to make her way through the whole building. But it would be worth it.
Aaron’s expression said exactly what he thought of that. “Next suggestion,” he said flatly.
“It’s worth the time! And I’d be overlooked as a human!”
“You’d be outside my protection!”
“You know... ,” Tom said, interrupting Joan’s next argument, “it’s actually not a bad idea.” He held up a hand as Aaron protested. “We don’t have to go in ourselves—there’s someone who used to work at the arena. Someone who’d trust Nick.”
Nick tilted his head in question.
