Crane closed his eyes in acknowledgment and pain. I felt behind me for a knife—not that it would do much good against a bullet.
“Lucian sent you a note, I presume,” Gabriel said.
“I didn’t need a note after reading the papers.”
Gabriel cocked his head. “No, I don’t suppose you would have.”
“You knew I would show.”
“There was little I could do about it.”
“You could havetoldme.”
Definitely pain this time. Crane practically exuded genteel pain.
“There was no need,” Gabriel said, carelessly leaning against the doorway as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “What was there to say? I ruled you out as the murderer a week ago.”
Ruled him out as—what?
The man took a deep breath and drew himself up. “I see. I suppose I should thank you for your confidence, if not for your consideration.”
Gabriel inclined his head. His eyes met mine, my wrist pulsed, and my hand froze its search for a blade. “A veritable meeting of the damned. Shall we sit and discuss this like proper citizens, or begin shooting and stabbing?”
Crane’s pistol lowered and he sat. Lucian shifted before sitting across from him. Gabriel continued lounging against the door. “Well, Marietta, what will it be?”
“I hardly have a pistol with which to start shooting.”
“No, no you do not. I can’t allow it, I’m afraid. Sit. There’s no reason to be afraid. Unless there’s a killer in the house.” His smile was all teeth and sneer. His eyes held a wound that had no reason to be there.
I sat at the end of the table, as far from the others as my position allowed. Gabriel dropped into the head seat.
“Well, isn’t this a happy scene.”
“Gabriel—”
“A happy reunion, no?” Gabriel said, cutting Crane off.
He looked like a vengeful god. Lucian like a battered one. Crane’s brows creased, just like Gabriel did when he…
The tabletop iced.
“Figured it out, did you?” Gabriel waved his hand and the ice melted and flew into the sink.
“Gabriel, leave her be.”
I barely registered either remark.
“Absolutelynot. I saw and heard what was happening before I entered. Answer the question,Lady Winters.”
“He is your father,” I said, vision wavering. “The main butler at the Steelcrest estate. The reason you would have recognized Thorne Worley. You worked there with him.”
“A mere servant. Did I detect that realization in your voice?” Silky, dark, dangerous.
Lucian shifted. Orion Crane’s gaze never left Gabriel.
“No.”
“Mmm, I think I’m not the only one caught in a lie.”
