“Somehow I doubt that.”
“Some returned for more, slaves to our plans, two returned just so they could take their lives on the premises. As some sort of statement. A deterrent to us? To me?” She waved a hand. “So messy, really. And the high lord was not pleased.”
“He knew?”
“Only that they stretched their necks, nothing more. And correspondence?” She motioned to the letter tray. “I receive it by the handful.”
I noticed an unopened stack in the corner and looked for the opener she always had at hand. A blade as damned as its wielder. I’d take the opportunity to destroy it when I was through.
She waved. “It’s been missing since last summer. I make Tom come in and open my mail.” Her mouth curved. “You should see what he can do with his tongue. Oh, Gabriel, even your disgustis beautiful, but Tom is twenty-two, plenty old enough to satisfy your absurd rules.”
I split the top missive with the back of a quill, mind racing.
“Your brother is nearing that age, is he not? Lucian was always so promising.”
“You are nothing if not clever, Melissande,” I said calmly. “Say another word about Lucian, and I will complete the Vein Ripper’s final task for him without even needing his weapon at hand.”
I read the first line of the note from some fawning admirer, expecting her to retort. When she didn’t, I looked up. Her face had gone white. A discordant note pulsed through the wards.
Her fingers shook as she ran a hand along the side of her hair, smoothing the imaginary escaped tendrils. “What type of list did you say you needed?”
I twirled the quill and leaned back, unsettled. “So compliant, all of a sudden? You’ll make me think you cowed. Melissande Nightshade, cowed.”
“Mind your manners, Gabriel,” she said, her voice almost steady.
“Melissande, you don’t hold the power here. How inconvenient for you.”
“I can tell the world about what a little whore you were. How you begged for it, beneath my blade. The great Gabriel Noble, defender of puppies and waifs, just another prostitute clawing and sleeping his way up the ranks of the elite.”
“Desperation is such an ugly look. I rebuffed your blackmail attempt when you first found me again. It will hardly work now. I can simply play your game. That I took what you so kindly ‘offered.’ A sixteen-year-old boy? Who would believe otherwise?” I smiled around the ash-filled words—a stock smile I had learned from the master, one full of innuendo and guile. “Easy enough to make you the deviant in this story. Especiallysince all of your co-conspirators are dead with their journals left behind.”
“Their journals—”
“I wonder how much gold they might bring?” I idly twirled the quill again, not feeling the ease I was trying to project. “No doubt the high lord will take notice for once when they are splashed on the press. Their words are no credit to you. There is little that could be, when it concerns you.”
Her lips tightened. Fear and anger made her deceptively lovely face twist into petulant lines.
I tossed the quill on the desk. “I grow tired of this. Whatever your ignorance of your deadfriends, you have obviously heard of the Vein Ripper, judging by your reaction. I’ve never seen you so scared, high lady.”
“I’m sure you are enjoying the moment, Gabriel.”
I tipped my head back. “It would surely behoove you to think so.”
The dark thought wouldn’t leave: I was doing exactly what Marietta had accused me of—using the hated tricks I had learned. “Now give me the list.”
She picked up a spare quill and dipped it. “I was so disappointed when we returned from Gildon and you had disappeared. The club was never quite the same.”
“Good.”
“Your father was never the same either.”
I didn’t respond.
“I always suspected he helped you and your brother leave. I punished him for it. I told you that I would.”
“He accepted the consequences.” Hard memories spurred—the conversation, Father’s anguish, my own mortification and anger, pushed onto a new target. There was still a part of me horrified that I hadn’t stayed—one victim to take the place ofmore. I had tried to make up for it by ruining them as quickly as I could when I’d gained enough power.
“Your father was the one person I couldn’t directly touch.” She smiled humorlessly at my surprise. “A bit of a bluff on my part. He was too close to my husband. Relied on far more than I,” she said bitterly. “Still, I made things…uncomfortable for him. I’m quite good at that.”
