He smiles. “What did she say?”
“That she was young and stupid.” He wants me to tell him Lilith’s been brainwashed into believing it never happened. We both know that will never happen, but his face lights up all the same, on hearing that she’s accepted that the truth will remain buried forever.
“Splendid.” He swallows the last of his champagne. The same guy who poured ours rushes over to fill his glass, before the Head has even set it down.
“She was caught off guard.” It bothers me, I think. I can’t be sure of it, but deep down, something inside me doesn’t feel right.
“It was meant to. Playing nice would give her the means to obscure the truth.”
There isn’t time to waste. Lilith and her mother could return at any moment, and there are questions and statements that must be made before they do.
“She’s been a liability from the beginning,” I say, shifting my gaze to some far-off corner of the room. “Now they both are.”
“Pray share your infinite wisdom with me?” The Head rolls his eyes, amused by my concern.
My jaw clamps down tightly at his mockery.
“She saw me.”
“No.” He shakes his head and waves at me dismissively. “She saw the Ghost. Now, she sees Colter.”
“They are one and the same.”
His face brightens with a sickening, sinister grin. “Ah, I see what this is. Youfeltsomething.”
Wrong choice of words. To have felt would mean I’m not feeling it now.
I won’t lie to him, so I choose not to respond at all.
“Your face says it all. That cold, shriveled prune you call a heart is beating faster, isn’t it?” He snickers to himself. “I should’ve seen it sooner. That obsessive gaze, the way she made your skin crawl… positively delightful.”
“That’s not what this is about.” I snarl, fury biting at every nerve. “I don’t trust them.”
“Of course.” He folds his hands, one over the other on the table. “But if you get the foolish notion that it might be, I’m putting a stop to it. The Veil requires her mother.Nothing more. We especially don’t need our Ghost failing in his duties because he’s pussy-whipped by the first piece of ass that comes into view.”
“We shouldn’t have brought her here,” I say, finding it tremendously difficult to keep my composure.
“Why not?” He rolls his hand in a silent gesture for me to continue.
“She’s…” Nothing comes to mind.
“Pure? Innocent? Delicate?” The Head urges me on. “Who gives a fuck? The Veil needs a Spirit, and Maybelle wants her in.”
My muscles tighten and flex at the way he says that.
Luckily for me, the door swings open and the Whittaker women return, before I have a chance to say something regrettable.
“Now, play nice, Colter. I won’t repeat myself,” he says loud enough for both of them to hear. Turning a conversation of his wicked designs into a scolding to win Lilith’s trust.
“Crisis averted, gentlemen,” Maybelle says, brushing a hand over my shoulder as she passes by.
“I hope everything’s okay?” Father asks, his face softening as he awaits an answer.
I’m surprised by it, although I shouldn’t be. Alistair Crawford is a man of many masks. He can pass from cold and ruthless to kind and caring at the drop of a hat. It’sremarkable. It’s also a skill I wish I could learn, but one that has always managed to elude my grasp.
“Perfectly so.” Maybelle reclaims her chair and leans in to whisper an explanation of what happened.
He chuckles and responds. “You know how boys are.” Loud again, another attempt at a public shaming of my transgressions.
