Page 63 of The Villains of Winter

“Truly, he was my sovereign Jupiter. Whenever I was in need of him, all was taken care of for me. In return, I ensured I was his finest protégé.” She kissed the corner of his mouth softly. “Ask anything of me, beautiful Apollo. In your time of need, I wish to be your Minerva.”

“I don’t need you at the moment, but thank you.”

He raised himself from the waters as soon as she was finished. His mind was elsewhere. Her mouth fell open. “You-You don’t need me?”

“No, I don’t need you at all.”

She swayed, as though wounded. “You don’t need me at all?” Her voice was stricken.

He gathered the rest of his clothes, checking his watch when her back was turned. Distracted. He heard her retch distantly. He hadn’t realized the dire mistake he’d made. He hadn’t caught himself in the moment.

His mind was centered on Elliott.

11:24 AM. He frowned.

The train to Arkansas would depart at 5:00 PM. If airports didn’t require identification, he would’ve flown Elliott out of Connecticut. There were private charters and regional airports; he could’ve smuggled him out on a light aircraft, but none had a time-sensitive schedule for Arkansas. He could’ve taken father’s private executive liner jet, but it would’ve been patently obvious what it’d been used for. Not to mention his father would’ve been notified by the pilot immediately due to the Federal Aviation Administration air space authorization required. The pilot would’ve left a direct record of his flight. James could’ve asked a student to borrow their parents’ light aircraft, but the small planes were limited to 600-800 miles.

Connecticut and Arkansas were 1,300 miles apart.

Only a train would work on short notice.

“Truly, you don’t need me in your grief and anguish?” She asked, agape, as James dried himself. Her mouth was smeared with vomit.

“Thank you, but not at all.” James dressed himself, absent-mindedly keeping an eye on his wristwatch. He’d forgotten she was even there. “Keep me in your prayers.”

Tristful, she bid him farewell after the lustration with a dispirited reminder that he needed to return on New Year’s night to begin work on the fresh body. If there was anyone willing to deceive and lie on his behalf, it was Professor Ilaria. However, he didn’t need her for anything more than an eye witness.

If only he’d known then the error he had made.

​​ CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

JAMES BLUSTERED INTO THE WOODROW Wilson Infirmary from the chill, shutting the corroded doors carefully. James could hear the rustle of the nurses and their mittens and snow-dusted parkas as they stomped their feet clear of December slush. They set their keys in their purse and zipped it closed.

“The world is a blizzard out there. If the ceremony had been one day later, it would’ve been postponed.” The portable heater was set near Kitty’s face with dwindling heat that likely hardly kept her warm. “Hopefully the New Year will have mercy on us. The roads are salted and clear for now at least.”

The women conferred with fright and dread, before another voice continued on with concern. “Did you hear? The electors returned to town in the nude and nearly frostbitten to death. The rector’s protégé burned the orphan–”

“Linda! Hush!”

“What, Sylvia?”

The woman gawked as she realized Kitty was there. “Oh, goodness. Let’s talk upstairs.” The other women nodded as they huddled towards the stairwell, they always gossiped and chittered together after the hibernal, it was what everyone did.

“The state sends all these manufacturing town orphans here. It’s impossible.”

As soon as the women left to briefly converse on the upper floor, James sat beside Kitty in his well-cut wool coat stolen from Perseus Swann.

“He’s safe.”

Kitty cried out on her pillow, “He’s not safe. He’s dead.”

“No, he’s not.” James gently brushed her hair out of her eyes. “He’s safe.”

Kitty lifted her head, tear-struck. “But then…whose body burned?”

“Lucien.”

“Elliott killed him?” Her voice struck out loudly. James hushed her, then he signed the infirmary sheet under the complaint of a migraine. At the front desk, the receptionist handed him a medical slip and instructed him to wait as he was entered into the system. The infirmary was his next verified alibi.