Page 65

I nodded. Throat thick with emotion. “I am.”

His face crumpled into a frown. “I didn’t mean to be sick. I can try again. I’ll hold my breath this time. I read that the palate and the nose are connected, so if I—” He stopped, and his voice went very small. “Please don’t leave. People always leave after I ruin something.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” Yves reassured his son.

“Yes, I have,” Adrien insisted.

The hole in my heart, the one I’d been guarding at the price of everything, tore a little wider. For him.

“Listen to me,” I said. “My blood has too much magick in it. That’s all. But your father and I have a plan to help you get used to it.”

“So you aren’t going to leave?” he asked.

I glanced at Yves, and when I did, my breath caught. It was a dangerous look. One that made me feel like he hadn’t just made a space for me in his castle, but in his family. Just like I feared. He wanted me here, with Adrien, and with him, on his balcony.

I forced myself to look back at his son. I didn’t want to lead either one of them on about my intentions.

“I signed a contract with your father for one full year, and when a—” I caught my family name before it came barreling out. “When I give someone my word, I keep it.”

Adrien blinked, then offered me a weak, gap-toothed grin. “That’s what Allards say. Isn’t it, Papa?”

Yves nodded. “It is.”

I could feel his father watching us, and it did something to me that I hadn’t anticipated.

I told myself I was staying for the money. And for a place to store the relics. And for Della’s benefit. But sitting there with his cold hand in mine, I made the mistake of admitting the coin was no longer the whole of it.

Chapter 22

Désarmé

YVES

Icarried Adrien to my bed and tucked him in. Before he closed his eyes and fell back asleep, he had one last parting thought.

“I told Miss Ravenwood that I wanted her to stay. Promise me you’ll do the same.”

I’d told myself I couldn’t want her. I’d even told myself that wanting her was an insult to Emmaline’s memory. But how could Emmaline disapprove if Cora made both of us happier than we’d ever been?

“I promise,” I told my son.

Adrien closed his eyes and found the rest that vampires sometimes take when they are recovering from injury. I watched him for a long moment before finding my way back out to the balcony.

I grabbed two glasses and a bottle of wine, and took a seat, waiting for Cora to join me. I waited longer than I’d like to admit. Savoring glass after glass. Penning poetry in the marginalia of my journal between staring up at the stars.

But she never came.

Feeling slightly drunk and dedicated to making another bad decision, I selected a bottle of my favorite vintage from the cabinet, filled the glass still slick with her blood, drained it, then poured myself another for good measure. Sipping it slower this time, I made my way to my desk with my journal and flipped to a clean page. I intended to record something useful. What came out was:

Her blood tastes of the sea. It reminded me of who I was always meant to be.

The next morning, Adrien had most of his color back, which was encouraging.

Cora came to check on him and stayed to keep him company, taking up residence in a chair beside the bed. The faint aroma of her perfume set every one of my nerves on end. I tried to look busy, unaffected by her presence. But truly, having her in my bedchamber was a slow torment that was going to drive me mad.

I was in and out during the day, checking on the investigation, but word of The Devouring was hard to come by. So far, my only lead was a laundress who did the washing for the rooms above The Drowned Goose. When Severin tracked her down, her sister came to the door and said she had gone to visit family on the Isle of Markal. When he asked when she would return, she said she didn’t know.

I hoped the poor girl wasn’t dead. Severin thought she likely was.