Page 69 of The Seven Rings
He interrupted in a tone so cool she felt the chill from feet away. And her hackles rose with it.
“You agreed to call me, Sonya, when there’s trouble, and I need to trust you will.”
“And I would have except for two reasons. The most important? We handled it. Which I’ll explain if you just listen to the whole thing before getting mad. And second, which matters to me, you and Owen had a night off.”
“From what?”
“From looking out for me, protecting me, which is why you left to come here when you knew Cleo was meeting Owen and your mom. As much to look after me as to help me go through all this—this stuff.”
“So now I need a night off from you, like you’re a chore?”
“No. Jesus.” She laid the dress on a table, then shoved her hands through her hair. “You know that’s not what I meant, and you’re harassing the witness. I would’ve called if we’d needed you, and if you’d let me finish, I’ll explain. You can cross-examine me after.”
Now his tone heated up, and his hands went into his pockets. “This isn’t a trial, and I’m not in lawyer mode.”
“Sure feels like it.”
“Damn it, Sonya. You’re telling me, now, that you and Cleo were being attacked, that you were trapped with the goddamn house falling apart around you, fire, flying glass, and no way out of the studio.”
“But none of those things were real.”
“And you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t mean those things couldn’t hurt you.”
“But they didn’t.” She threw up a hand before he could speak again. “Just let me finish. Were we scared? Absolutely. It did seem like the house was falling apart, burning. It did seem real. Then Dobbs, she just, just glided down the hall over that freaking pit of fire.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“She started to cast another spell, I think. Or maybe she just likes talking in rhymes.” Now she paced as she spoke while Trey stood still and annoyingly controlled.
“My death in fire and blood, she’s going to wash away my bones in a flood, blah blah. And she ends with the house is mine for all time. Hers, I mean. It really pissed me off. I grabbed one of Cleo’s rocks and threw it at her.”
“You threw a rock at a dead, insane witch while the house was burning down.”
“Yes!” Her fuse, not nearly as slow-burning, reached its end as she spun around to face him.
“Was I supposed to just stand there and goHelp! Help!And it fucking worked, okay, so you can stuff your condescension. Cleo said it’s a hag stone, wards off evil and whatever. Maybe, given thelogicof the manor, that’s why that particular rock came to hand. But it hit her, square in the chest, and it hurt her. It shocked her because she expected me to just stand there, helpless. It shocked her, and it hurt her, and she vanished. She vanished, and it all stopped.”
He said nothing for a moment, then, “I need to see this rock.”
She pulled one out of her pocket. “This is one like it. Cleo’s keeping the other because we think it may have some of her blood on it.
“It went right through her,” Sonya murmured as Trey took the stone and studied it. “It hit. I saw it hit, then… It was there on the floor in the hallway after.”
She put it back in her pocket when he handed it to her.
“It’s not very big, but it did the job. And ask yourself this, because I did. Why didn’t she press the advantage and come at us in the studio?”
“Because she can’t.”
Now she took a moment. “You’d already figured that out. Good for you. Whatever Cleo’s got going in there must work.”
“Add that’s where you’ve found the portraits. I don’t diminish Cleo, but I think she’s got some help there.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She took a breath. “That sounds true.”
He walked over, all the way to the attic windows, and threw one open. For the sea air, Sonya supposed. For a little cooling off.
She didn’t think the same would work for her.
