“No more of it, then. Open the shutters of your heart and let in the light.”
“What time is it?” Selene reached for her pocket watch, then remembered it was gone. She’d lost more than an hour. “I have to go, Victor.”
“Can I come back tomorrow?” Victor said.
“Tomorrow is L’Opéra du Magician.”
“You’ll need to eat.” Victor smiled.
Selene wanted to see him again. She knew tomorrow would be an endless whirl. But she wanted to know there was one person in this world who cared about her.
“We’ll have to be quick,” she said.
“I’ll take a minute; I’ll take a moment.” Victor caught her hand and brought it to his lips.
And with a few steps, Selene could have closed the distance between them. Crossed the years and gone back to a time when her love for Victor was a slice of sunshine. When he was the bright spot on every day. But the night had come, and Selene couldn’t remember what it was to be happy the way Victor wanted her to be happy.
“You can’t be caught here.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
The ghost might sing you into the dark and you’ll never want to leave,she thought.
“Let’s not tempt fate.”
He hastily packed up the picnic. Selene blew out the candles with a brush of wind. The wax splattered like blood against the stone floor. She took his hand and showed him the way back to the light, up the stairs and to the door.
“I trust you can find your way,” she said.
“I am capable of many things.”
She pulled her hand away, dropped into a curtsy. Selene escaped through the still-locked door, the hinges swinging. Her skirts moved around her like water, and she could feel Victor’s eyes on her back. Once she was almost out of sight, she dared a glance over her shoulder. Victor crouched down and sang the metal pin back into the hinge. His voice was clear and easy and untrained. She could think of a dozen ways to make it better: lift the soft palate, control the breath, let the vibrato resonate through the mask of the face.
She could teach him to be a better musician, and a better mage. But she didn’t need that from him. She liked the sound of his voice and the way it felt to fall into step with him. She liked that he was here, in spite of herself. Victor Chastain had swept back into her life and she would be damned if she didn’t enjoy it.
“Victor?”
He looked up, a wave of copper hair falling into his face. “Selene?”
“Thank you.”
“Oh no.” Victor leaned away from the door. “Don’t start with that.”
“Gratitude?”
“Politeness.” Victor shuddered. “Can’t we be friends, you and I? Without the conventions of society getting in our way?”
Selene wasn’t sure if they could ever be friends, not the way they had been. There was something between them. There were so many things she might say.
“I’ll be indecorous, all decorum lost.”
“That’s all I ask of you.”
Chapter 33
Selene waited until Victor left through the great doors and rode down the street. She didn’t have a plan. All she had was the glass rose and a way in. She gathered her sheet music and the box, desperation clinging to her skin. This had to work. She could throw together another song, but it would pale in comparison to what she had written with him. That was a remarkable piece. Anything else would be less. She couldn’t take the risk.
She used the trick with the hinges on the first door and then again on the second. Victor served his purpose. With the box held against her chest, she tried not to linger on the memory of his skin and the softness of his mouth. She could give this up. She could give up anything if it meant winning. She’d already lost so much in pursuit of her art. The shadow boat took her across the water. This might be the last time she’d trace through these arches, the last time she’d see herself in the dark water. The mirror reflected the phosphorescence in all its glory. This was the moment, her triumphant return.
