She wants her house back.
So why not come and take it? Why not go to the press and expose herself? Why go after Brutus? Why break his legs? What did he have to do with any of this?
I’ve lived in Mackenzie’s skin for four years. I’m dating a guy who’s been in love with her for far longer. We’re both happy to spill blood to obtain our ends. Yet I still can’t get a read on her. It takes one psychopath to recognize another, but Mackenzie is next level.
“One thing we know for sure – she was living here alone.” Noah’s dark eyes sweep the room. “I can’t find any trace of Howard or Ainsley Malloy. If they’re still alive, they’re not with her.”
We trudge back down the hill and pile into the car. No one speaks as the van winds through lush forests and rolling farmland dotted with picturesque storybook houses. We park the van on a narrow lane and walk up the hill to pass through the defensive wall of the old Imperial Free City of Rothenburg.
I gasp as my feet touch cobbled streets and we slip back in time – half-timbered dwellings with turrets and gothic carvings lean down on us from above the narrow streets. We come to a stop in the middle of a bustling square, surrounded by patrician houses and an ornately-carved town hall. Even though it’s the middle of winter and snow gathers in the corners and dots the roofs, people crowd the Christmas market, their faces lit by twinkling Christmas lights as they look at the sheepskin slippers, wooden tree ornaments, and delicious-smelling cookies and hot drinks on offer.
It’s magical. It’s perfect. It… makes no sense.
“This is the absolutelastplace I’d expect a spoiled Valley-Girl princess to end up.” Antony rubs his bare arms.
Eli frowns at the bright lights and cheerful people. “He’s right. I can’t see Mackenzie here.”
“Maybe that’s why she chose it. Because no one would think to look for her here.” I’m trying to convince myself. Nothing about Mackenzie makes sense. I remember what Brentwood said about her being a murderer. We haven’t even figured out what it means yet. I turn to George, who’s scrolling through her phone. “Where should we start?”
George points to a bar in the corner of the square. “The latest sighting of Mackenzie was in that pub.”
Gabriel wipes grime from the front of his jacket. “Good. All this sleuthing has me parched.”
This pub is tiny, with long shared tables lit by flickering lanterns and a fire blazing from the hearth. Wait staff bustle from a busy kitchen, carrying enormous plates of sausages and schnitzel. At any moment, I expect a hobbit to leap onto a table as the whole place erupts into medieval song. We head up to the bar. Gabriel pushes ahead and orders steins of beer and pommes frites for all of us.
As the waitress pours our beers, George leans over the counter, holding out her phone. “Hey, this might sound really weird, but we’re looking for a girl who—”
The woman looks up at George. I’m standing right behind her with my hood pulled up. She catches my eye over George’s head. Her entire face goes pale. She spins on her heel and grabs the guy serving the other end of the bar. He’s carrying two full steins in his hands. He starts to snap at her in German but then he catches sight of me.
“You.” His fists shake. He slams the steins on the counter and stalks over. “How dare you show your face here.”
“Excuse me?”
I’m aware that the hum of conversation behind me has dried up. My back itches from the weight of eyes stabbing into my back. The bar is so silent I can hear Gabriel slide his stein off the bar and sip at the foam.
“You were told never to return.” The man turns to Gabriel. “I feel sorry for you. You are handsome and you seem nice, so I think you will be her next victim. Consider this your warning. This bitch worked in my bar for six months. She stole money. She spat in food. She blackmailed my sister. She is evil, I tell you. Take her away from this place.”
Gabriel looks at me like he’s trying not to laugh. But it’s not funny, not at all.
I open my mouth, but I can’t find the words. Whatever Mackenzie did to him, I’m not going to be able to fix it.
“Leave,” he hisses. “Schnell, schnell!Or I call thepolizei.”
Noah grabs my arm and drags me outside. The others follow. Gabriel tosses back his head and swallows as much of his beer as he can in one gulp before slamming the glass on the counter and running after us.
We huddle together in the square, bracing ourselves against the icy wind. George rubs her hands together. Two red spots appear on her cheeks. “That guy was so angry.”
Gabriel cracks up laughing. “I think we can safely assume that the Malloys have made their mark on Rothenburg.”
“I don’t think we should be out here anymore.” George looks over her shoulder. I follow her gaze. The guy from the bar storms over to a nearby restaurant, yelling angrily in German at themaître dand pointing toward us.
I shiver. “Agreed.”
I don’t know what I expected to find in Germany. But it certainly wasn’t a dead body and the fact that an entire medieval village wants me to die in a fire.
* * *
Word of Mackenzie’sarrival spreads through the tiny village like the bubonic plague. By the time we’ve trudged back to our pension, a cruel-looking woman blocks the doorway, slapping her heavy rolling pin against her palm.
