‘So you’re not planning on telling them. Because you don’t want to alarm them or because you’re trying to protect me?’ My voice had grown quieter, my heart louder. I was drifting off topic, asking questions about what Iwantedto know rather than what I needed to.
His eyes smiled, but his mouth remained a straight line. ‘Which answer would frighten you more?’
‘I’m not frightened of you. I told you that before.’
The smile deepened, nestling into the dimples at the corners of his mouth. ‘Which is precisely why you’re so dangerous, Mabel.’
‘No more dangerous than you, Blake.’
A strange look crossed his face. Drawing back, he looked at the water. ‘Don’t call me that, okay?’
‘You prefer Cliff?’
‘Yes.’ He smiled sadly, almost hauntedly. ‘And no.’
‘You’re a mystery to me,’ I said flatly.
He laughed, only briefly, but the sound slipped deep into the crannies of my memory–it was so warm, so soft, so at odds with how serious he always seemed.
‘Good. Because you’re a mystery to me too.’
We fell silent for a moment, while I tried to organise my thoughts. Blake hadn’t confirmed the existence of the League, but nor had he denied it. That might mean it was real–or simply that he wanted me to stop digging before I got to the actual truth. Or, of course, that he didn’t care either way. I was still none the wiser, and it was frustrating. Talking to Blake was like reading an old book, a classic I didn’t fully comprehend. I understood the words, but I couldn’t see through all the layers of interpretation to reach the meaning at its core.
‘Maybe I should just start calling you Heathcliff,’ I muttered, vaguely annoyed.
‘FromWuthering Heights? Hardly the most likeable character.’
‘He’s the archetype of the tortured hero, often a loner born into wealth. Usually hiding a dark secret. Ruthless, too.’
Blake raised his eyebrows sceptically. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’
‘June Owens,’ I replied, making a sudden decision. I had come to him for answers: I wasn’t going to leave empty-handed. ‘I know she was at your parties, I saw her. With Victor.’
Blake’s face tensed. ‘What are you insinuating? That he pushed her off the roof?’
‘No. As far as I know, she was up there alone. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved. That…youweren’t involved.’
My heart felt empty. The words, too, somehow. Blake’s expression hollowed them out until they fluttered thinly in the air between us. ‘If you really believe that,’ he said emotionlessly, ‘then why are you here?’
I could have dodged the question, but his gaze bored so deep that it cut partway through the layers of distance and defiance I’d built up over the last few years. ‘Because I don’t think you’re like your friends. You’re not as indifferent as they are, you… care about other people.’
‘You’re wrong. And in any case… they’re my family.’ He made to stand up, but I grabbed him. His pulse was strong, his skin still warmer than I’d have expected in this cold.
‘You can love something, you can cherish it, and it can still be bad for you. That goes for people just as much as for the life you lead.’
Blake closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. When he met my gaze again, he seemed earnest. Genuine. ‘Victor didn’t rape June, if that’s what you’re thinking. He never slept with her or pressured her into doing anything like that.’
I swallowed. ‘Can you promise me that?’
‘Yes.’ Blake hesitated, then took my hand off his arm. ‘Victor isn’t always easy, but he’s not that much of a… monster.’ For a few seconds his eyes rested on his fingers, which had closed around mine. Then, as if seeing something I had missed, his cheeks blanched. He let me go and jerked his hand back, shifting slightly to the right, away from me.
Confused and embarrassed, I tucked my hand under my thigh so he wouldn’t see it trembling. ‘Okay, I believe you. But I still think there’s more you’re not willing to tell me. Or twitter at me.’ I gestured to the feather he had slid into a groove in the wood.
Blake sighed. It was astonishing how quickly he regained his composure–the colour was even coming back into his cheeks. ‘If this society you’re talking about really does exist, and if we’re members of it–and I’m sayingif–then there’s nothing very special about that. Societies exist so people can network. You build a community, put people in touch, help each other out. That’s all.’
‘There’s just one problem,’ I replied with a sardonic smile. ‘Normally, clubs like that do everything they can to make sure they stick in people’s minds. You, on the other hand, try to keep it quiet. And having met a couple of your friends, I’m pretty sure that modesty isn’t the reason why.’
Instead of replying, Blake got to his feet with a regretful nod. ‘I have to go now. You know, feed a few birds.’
