Page 3 of By Any Other Name

There’s another unintelligible shout inside the office, and I jump as I feel pressure on the top of my head. It takes me a moment to realize Roman is resting his chin there. I feel him chuckle and I can’t breathe. I don’t know whether to elbow him in the gut or sink backward into his chest.

“It’s not funny,” I choke out.

“Come on, good girl, you have to admit it’s kind of funny. They’re not really going to do anything, they never do.”

“The blood all over the auditorium begs to differ.”

“Touché.”

A tiny laugh escapes me, surprising us both. He laughs too, and for the briefest, tiniest second, it seems like we’re on the same side. Like we understand each other, on this side of the door, and it’s not my family versus his family, but it’s them versus us. Like maybe we’ve reached some common ground. Like maybe things might change between us.

Except Roman is wrong; our parents are serious.

And I’m both right and wrong; things do change. They get worse.

So, six years later, when I’m lying beside Roman in a crypt, because all we wanted was to stop the violence, I’ll wonder if he still thinks the feud is funny.

Act One

ChapterOne

ETTA

PRESENT

I’ve always thought of roses as funeral flowers.

It’s funny how an image can stick in your mind; how you can make an association once, and never be able to banish it. Like, how the scent of tequila can still make you sick, years after the first—and last—time you drank it, or how a particular song will always make you think of your first kiss.

To me, red roses aren’t romantic. They’re ornaments of the afterlife, with petals like drops of blood on icy February snow. Apparently, whoever chose the flowers for this year’s arcane auction doesn’t agree.

I scowl down at the macabre arrangement on the cocktail table before reaching out to touch the nearest bloom. Bone-deep pain lances through my middle finger and I hiss, pulling my hand back from the stem as blood wells where the thorn pierced me. Gods. I should have known better. Pretty and vicious. Just like this event. Just like this entire town.

I suck on my finger for a moment before inspecting it. “I guess I’ve just paid my blood debt for the year.”

“Is that what you’re trying to do? I thought you were just stealing the decorations.”

I look up to find my best friend, Catalina Minola, striding toward me across the crowded castle ballroom, the heels of her Mary Jane pumps clicking against the white marble floor.

Behind her, half the town stands around, chatting and drinking. A string quartet plays in one corner and there’s an open bar in the other. Towering, floor to ceiling windows on one side of the room look out over the twinkling lights of the harbor, and on the other, over the tops of the Elsinore University buildings. Blood-red flower arrangements, which only so recently maimed me, cascade from every surface, contrasting with the bright white marble.

“Something like that,” I say as Cat reaches me. “What are you doing here?”

“I bowed out early, I thought you might need some back-up.” She rolls her eyes and leans back on her heels. “I would have been here sooner, but they stopped me at the door. It’san auction. What do they think I’m trying to do?”

I hide a smile. I’m guessing her trouble was less about security and more about her outfit, since she’s wearing a brown plaid vest over a ribbed turtleneck with a calf-length pleated skirt. It’s a great outfit, but not for a black-tie event. Not that I’m doing much better on the opposite end of the spectrum.

I hadn’t planned to attend tonight and had no time to find a dress. My black lace evening gown would have been fine last year, but this year it’s several sizes too small in the chest area and I’m attracting more than a few sideways stares from men old enough to be my father.

Champagne problems, but painful, nonetheless.

I nod sympathetically. “Mmm. Who’s manning the door?”

She waves her hand as if to say she doesn’t care. “I don’t even know, but you watch. I’ll fucking curse him and his whole damn house.”

My smile slips. “Stop, that’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny,” she says, even as she snorts a laugh. “Anyway, I think you’ve got the market cornered on family feuds all on your own.”

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