“Well,” Nadine said thickly, “I think all of us can agree that we hope she turns up. Right?”
“Oh dear.” His mother laughed nervously. “Of course, Nadine. She was family.”
Strangely, this was the final straw. Nadine withdrew from them completely, gradually losing her light. It was like watching a sunset become engulfed by the night.
“Are you sure you won’t join us in the parlor for a glass of port?” his father pressed, his lips a curve of satisfaction.
Nadine shook her head and got to her feet unsteadily, all but running from the room. It sounded like she was hitting every loose board. Cal could track her progress all the way to the upstairs hall.
With a sense of numbness he could normally only achieve with rum, Cal followed his family into the parlor as his mother peeled off and drifted away silently upstairs. His father went to the liquor cabinet and produced four snifters, which he began filling with the good port he had imported from Portugal.
Cal sipped his slowly, each swallow a heated burn in the back of his throat. His father was complaining about the various intractable vendors, throwing their respective wrenches into his grand plans. Ben, seeming to talk in parallel, was ranting about a demolition job that was being postponed because of a labor strike. Concerned that the dynamite might be stolen, he had, foolishly, brought some of it back to store at the house, rather than leaving it at a fucking warehouse.
“You brought explosives to a Victorian house in a town where everyone hates us?” Odessa demanded, sounding both thrilled and horrified. “If this place goes up, they’ll be roasting hotdogs.”
“They’re in a safe place,” Ben said. “And who knows, they may come in handy.”
He exchanged a glance with his father, so fleeting it might be missed in a blink.
But Cal noticed. And so did Odessa. “Don’t blow anything up withoutme,” she said.
“Nobody is blowing anything up,” Cal said. “And I suggest you refrain from making such comments when your mobile devices are in easy reach.”
“Ah, Cal.” His father twisted the delicate crystal in his fingers. “Where would we be without all your useful advice? And yet, for all your knowledge about rights of inheritance, you seem to have staked a claim on something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“If someone were incompetent enough to mislay their property, one could consider it effectively abandoned and stake a true claim for themselves,” he murmured.
“Oh, fuck you, Cal,” said Ben.
“I’ve marked her,” he said. “I’ve claimed her. You can try to take her from me, but I won’t be giving her up willingly. Not until I’m finished having my fun,” he added.
His father appeared disinclined to comment, which was surprising. Warily, Cal watched him reach for the brandy, moving up to stronger spirits. Ben eagerly moved closer to join him.
Odessa rolled her eyes and got up to leave, and Cal moved to do the same rather than join his father and brother in their quest for oblivion.
She looked at him, slowing her pace as she tilted her head, causing her braid to swing over one shoulder. “And where are you off to, Baby Cal? A little nocturnal hunting?”
“Not for want of trying,” he said. “And you aren’t exactly helping matters, by the way.”
“She saidnoto you.” Odessa laughed gleefully. “Just when I think I couldn’t like her more, the shrunken violet goes and proves herself a cutting judge of character.”
“Yes, well, if you like her as much as you claim to, perhaps you might stop hindering my every move,” Cal said. “Father plans to give her to Ben as consolation prize. She’s not as weak as they think she is but a fate like that would end her.”
“And you think she’d accept you?” she asked skeptically.
“I think she could be persuaded.” He ran a hand over his unshaven jaw, sighing. “She is becoming entirely too comfortable within these walls. And with me.”
“But that’s what you wanted,” she pointed out.
“She should leave. But I don’t trust myself to let her go.”
“Then scare her. You’re good at that. That’s why you became a lawyer, isn’t it? Reason it the absence of baser human emotions so you can lord your superior logic over all those quivering hysterical peons like a raven preening on his perch?”
Cal grimaced at hearing his plan spoken of aloud in such mocking tones. It sounded even worse coming from his sister’s lips. “You paint a flattering portrait, though I’m not sure how closely it favors me.” Still troubled, he frowned. “And on that note, where are you off to?”
“I’m going out.” She flicked the hem of her dress. “Ask me where.”
“No.”
