And when I think of home now, it’s not a place that comes to mind, but a person, a pair of bright blue eyes and a head of copper curls.
My breath catches in my chest, and I pound on the door before I can let that thought run away with me.
Harold calls for me to enter, though I can barely hear his voice.
I push through the door, unsure exactly what I’m going to say. I hate this woman he brought into our lives to destroy everything he’d so carefully built. I hate that it has to be this way, and I hate him for ruining what was once my home.
But all that anger fades away the moment I see him.
Harold MacVeigh is a proud man, a handsome man. A performer and an entertainer and our fearless leader.
The man who sits before me is broken and bent. Quite literally, as he’s slumped over his desk, his head held up in his hand.
I rush to his side, placing a hand to his forehead but finding no fever. “Harold, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” I go to move to the door. “Let me get Bianca.”
Harold’s fingers clasp around my wrist, pulling me to a stop. “I don’t need Bianca. There’s nothing wrong.”
My hands fall to my hips as I stare down at the wreck before me. “Harold, be serious. Something is beyond wrong. Look at you.”Look at what she’s done to you.I manage to keep the words in, but I’m sure he can hear them anyway.
He lets out a long sigh and gestures for me to sit. “There’s nothing physically wrong with me, how about that?”
“What’s going on?” I ask again, Andra’s dire prediction racing to the front of my mind. With everything going on with Callum, I haven’t had much brain space left to ruminate on her vision, but now, seeing him here before me, I can’t help but think that his current state must be tied to what she’s seen, the atrocious act he is close to committing.
“I have to do something, Cate. Something that doesn’t sit well with me. Something that has been haunting me.”
“Then don’t do it.” I lean forward in my seat. “You don’t have to do it, Harold. Everyone at this club will support whatever decision you make.” Certainly no one would fault him for deciding not to commit murder.
“Even if it means the club closes?” His tired eyes meet mine. “I know you’ve managed to find a way out, but what about the others. Where do you think they’ll end up if La Puissance shuts down?”
“So Lady M is forcing you to kill King James and if you don’t she’ll pull her funds from the club?” Just when I thought I couldn’t hate her any more, though I probably should have foreseen this. Harold did what needed to be done for the Uprising, but he always preached for nonviolent means and certainly never participated in the violence himself.
“Yes.” He seems surprised by his own admission.
I reach across the desk for one of his hands, noting how thin and frail he’s gotten even over just the past few days. “Then let me help you, Harold. If all of this is causing you distress, you know I can help ease it.”
I’ve never used my Gift on Harold. He’s never asked, and our relationship has never veered into sexual territory. But Harold has done so much for me. If he needs my help, I’m willing to do whatever I can to provide it.
He yanks his hand away from me, shaking his head. “No. I could never…we could never…”
“There is another option, you know.” I check over my shoulder, as if Lady M could have somehow materialized in the office without me noticing.
He sighs, the breath sounding ragged in his chest. “And what is that?”
“We both know Callum Reid is planning on becoming the Scotan candidate.” I wait for Harold to fill in the blanks, but he just stares at me vacantly. I lean forward in my seat. “So we let him, Harold. Callum is a good man. He will be a good leader.”
“And you’ve discerned this over the course of what…fifteen hours you’ve spent with him?” His voice takes on a tone he’s never used with me before, like I’m a naïve fool.
“I could discern that much of him in less time than that.” A small smile tugs on my lips at just the thought of him. “Callum…well, he’s everything we could want in a leader, Harold. He’s everything.”
Harold watches me closely, studying me so intently I shift uncomfortably under his gaze. The way he is looking at me, it’s like he sees through to the heart of me. And like what he sees might hurt me.
“You need to be careful with him, Cate. Guard yourself.”
I just barely manage to keep from rolling my eyes. “You know as well as I do that I don’t need much time with a man in my bed to know his true character.” I place my hands flat on the desk between us. “This isn’t you, Harold. You don’t want to rule this nation, and you certainly don’t want to kill.”
Harold sits back in his seat, letting the desk divide us. “The plan is already in motion.”
My blood chills in my veins. “What do you mean? The window doesn’t open until midnight.”
