Page 111 of Blackwicket
“Some people just deserve to die!” My sister screamed, interrupting me, and the Drudge overcame her again, shifting her into the beast which gnashed its jaws, twisting its horrible head on its long neck. When she wrested control and regained her human form, she sank, the effort costing her too much.
I dove to catch her before she hit the ground, and the contact with her body cleaved my anger, reminding me I hadn’t lost everything, and had been given something precious back, no matter how broken. I helped her stand, and she leaned on me, gasping for a moment, crying small sobs into my shoulder. I’d become her protector, the last person in the world she coulddepend on. I needed to put my hypocritical judgment to rest and love her despite everything.
“At risk of being insensitive,” Victor chimed, his voice devoid of interest in Fiona’s suffering. “I need to clarify what crime Cora committed to invite your retribution.”
His callousness reminded me of the man he was capable of being when focused on keeping his own demons at bay. I hadn’t considered what it might be costing him to be in such proximity to Fiona’s Drudge. Still, my anger flared. Fiona answered him, preventing me from offering a rebuke.
“Cora was keeping track of Jack for the Authority,” Fiona rasped. “She used Thea to stay close, to ensure she didn’t do anything to disrupt their plans. They wanted to see what William would do, how he’d use Dark Hall children to change the landscape of magic in this world.”
“But you helped Grigori with that, before you killed him, you gave him a child from Dark Hall. You stole a boy to support Grigori’s plans to create Drudge soldiers.”
“Victor,” I snarled.
“That wasn’t what Grigori was doing, you fool,” Fiona said, voice thickening. “And I didn’t steal Roark from Dark Hall.”
This information interested both Victor and me a great deal.
“Where did he come from?” Victor demanded.
“I made him.” She spoke the confession with sober pride.
“You made him?” I repeated. “With William?”
She stared at me for a beat too long.
“Oh, Ellie. You really don’t know any of it.”
Voices raised from outside, Ramsey calling to us, urgent.
“Why is he here?” Fiona was suddenly on edge.
The door flew open, Ramsey barging in with Hannah close behind. They were agitated, faces tense, eyes sleepless.
“We found them,” Ramsey said by way of greeting.
“Then why do you look so afraid?” My heartbeat ratcheted.
“They’re locked in the Vapors,” Hannah said. She had a long wool coat clutched to her, yellow as daffodils, and she handed it to me as she said, “with William.”
“What the hell do you mean?” Victor roared, punctuating the stab of horror that momentarily crippled me. I clutched the coat as blood fled from my face, leaving me woozy.
Hannah chose that moment to notice Fiona, and she took hold of her husband’s arms, gripping them with the shocked strength of any woman who’d seen someone rise from the grave.
“Fiona Blackwicket?” Ramsey stared at her, disbelieving.
Fiona had leaned against the table for support, eyes fixed on the two of them with cold distrust.
“William’s dead.”
She enunciated each word as though saying them strongly enough would keep them true.
“We tracked their magic all night, finally traced it to the club,” Ramsey said, off balance by the sight of my sister. “It’s strong, they’re alive, but I’d recognize William’s noxious trail anywhere, and it’s there too.”
My shock had abated, replaced by a detonation of wrath.
“You’re lying. No one’s capable of tracking people by remnants of magic that way.” I said, the wicked creature in me expanding, glorifying in the wreckage my horror was making of my magic.
Hannah reached to put a hand on my arm, but I recoiled, finding Victor near, his steadying touch not to hold me up but to assure me he was on guard.
