Page 59 of Blackwicket
“In the end, her loss was our gain.”
“Youkilledher.”
“I believe you did, Ellie.” His use of my childhood nickname nauseated me, and my rage finally became action.
Giving in to an inescapable urge, I kicked his cane out from under him. I’d intended for him to fall, to tumble to the ground and give me room to run to the house, but although the tip slipped across the frozen dirt, he remained upright, steady on hisfeet. A laugh preceded the rage, which broke across his visage like a storm crashing to shore. He brought the tip of his cane down between my ankles and, in a single smooth motion, twisted it so it caught my left heel. With a solid shove of the hard wood against my thigh, he knocked my feet from beneath me, and I hit the ground on my hip.
William pinned the layers of my skirt to the frozen earth between my calves, forcing me to remain in an awkward sprawl. To free myself, I’d have to roll onto my stomach and crawl away. A thing I would never do for William.
He towered above me, the monster Thea and Mr. Farvem were afraid of, the one Fiona had eventually seen and recoiled from.
“Now there’s a pretty view,” he intoned, the edges of his voice regaining their charming, harmless shape. “I won’t make you apologize this time, but let’s remain civil in the future.”
He crouched close, running his gaze purposefully along the curve of my hip. Had I not been twisted in such an awkward position, I would have leaned in to bite the nose off his face.
“This is all so unnecessary,” he said. “I’ll tell you everything, Eleanora. You just have to cooperate with me. Let me show you what power tastes like. No more fear, no more running. Do what I ask of you, and I’ll be at your mercy. You’ll be the most powerful woman ever to walk this earth.”
“Is that what you promised my sister?” I growled, then spat in his face.
He barely flinched. I expected him to raise his hand, to further attempt to degrade me, but he only wiped the spit from his cheek, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“What can I say? A Nightglass man can’t resist a Blackwicket,” he replied, even and jovial, rising to his feet. He released my skirt, and I adjusted myself, hastily standing, soaked with snowmelt, as he watched on. I rejected the urge to throw apunch. William was more than he seemed, and I was already in plenty of danger.
“Leave,” I commanded, and my voice quavered, frightened and brittle.
“Of course.” He pressed a hand to his chest, offering a slight bow, a gentleman again. “Thank you for accommodating my request to bid farewell to Fiona. I’m sure you have things to tend to.”
He began his trek to the waiting car, and I watched him go, clutching the collar of my coat closed just to have something to hold onto, shivering from more than the cold.
“I’ll be in touch, Eleanora,” he called back. “And we’ll continue this chat. Perhaps at the next High Tide.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Once William was out of sight, I bundled my rage close and set into town, not bothering to change my wet clothes. I was so distraught that even as I pounded on Darren’s hotel room door, I couldn’t remember arriving or asking for a room number.
I raged against the barrier between me and the object of my fury, bruising the soft edge of my hand on the wood, the glaring gold number 15 rattling from the force. My magic was turbulent, and it snapped under the sleeves of my blouse like static electricity, small sparks flying as I continued to beat the door. Just when I thought the skin of my pinky knuckle might split, the door was yanked in, and there stood my father, in grey trousers and a rumpled undershirt, dark circles beneath his eyes.
“How much did he pay you?” I demanded.
“What?”
“You sold me to William Nightglass!” I was shouting with the wrath of a hurricane fallen to shore. “How much was yourown daughterworth?”
“Woah, woah!” He reached to pull me inside. “You can’t be out here screaming stuff like that.”
He checked the hallway for anyone sticking their head out to investigate what was going on before he shut us away. The room was a damn sight better than where he’d hidden me in Devin, clean and more modest than other Nightglassaccommodations likely had on offer, but I knew what money had paid for it and couldn’t appreciate his frugality.
“But it’s true, isn’t it? William arranged everything in Devin, the disaster at Galton’s. He’s the reason that woman and all her children are dead, and you played along to get to me. So I want to know how much money he dangled in your face to make you stoop so low.”
“You’ve got it all wrong!”
When I opened my mouth to interrupt, he did something he’d never done in my life. He shouted in return.
“Would you shut up for just a second!”
I pressed my mouth into a thin line. Darren ran a hand through his hair, unbrushed, several day’s worth of beard on his chin. He looked as though he hadn’t been sleeping, and I could smell the tang of old brandy on him.
“I knew nothing about that dame with the curse until after the fact,” he said. “Fiona was dead, and yeah, William offered me a pretty decent sum to convince you to come back here.”
