Another part of my heart softens toward Clarice DuBois. Dammit. She islikable.
She points to Nirav. “You. Child. You get my portion of the take. Don’t let anyone else have it, okay?” Nirav nods.
Spirit shows me a jack-in-the-box, the image it uses for a surprise.
Clarice whirls on Pax. Spirit changes the image it’s showing me to that of a hawthorn flower—lacy, lovely, white flowers, protected by spiny thorns.
“And you,” she says, her voice level and icy. “Give me your cash.”
Pax chuckles awkwardly and his eyes leap to each of us. I can only shrug and suppress a grin.
She motions to him in agive it heremovement. As he reaches for his money clip, she says, “You’ll be making regular payments to me to keep your stupid foiled plan a secret.”
William licks his teeth, and I can’t tell if he’s uncomfortable or withholding a smile. Nirav shifts. I decide not to make direct eye contact with Clarice right now. It feels as if I would be looking directly at the sun.
Pax squints but hands over the wad of bills from his wallet. “Regular payments?”
His suspenders shift as he leans against the wall. How does he manage to look irresistible even as he’s being blackmailed?
Clarice tucks the roll of cash in her brassiere. Her face is suddenly light and sweet again, the soft, lush petals of the hawthorn flower rather than the spike. “Oh, I won’t rob you blind. I’ll just… pop in, whenever I could use some funding. You know. Think of me as, oh, say, the kept mistress.” She tosses her head back and laughs, her glossy blond hair gleaming, her laughter a mixture of bubbles and gravel.
Pax looks deflated and finally levels with her. “That gun… I thought that’s what I needed.”
Clarice leans in close and whispers something meant for only Pax’s ears. He gazes at me with sleek silver-green eyes and looks away. Huh.
She sashays to me. She reaches out like she’s going to touch my face, but she stops herself. “And you. You don’t have to worry. I believe that you didn’t know his plan, and I won’t turn you in. If it comes to that.”
I exhale.
She leans toward me, and she smells like clove cigarettes and French perfume. It’s intoxicating. “I’ve never seen anything like that show you put on last night,” she whispers. “It was…beautiful. And it was scary as fuck.You, I won’t be messing with.”
She gives William a quick hug, flashes herself a brilliant smile in the gleaming bathroom mirrors, squares her shoulders, and departs.
We’re quiet in her absence, until William chuckles. “Well,congratulations, Pax. You are finally part of the New York social elite.”
Pax wears a quizzical look, and Spirit flashes an image of a wide-eyed puppy cocking its head. “What?”
“You’ve made it. You’re being blackmailed. Nothing says social elite like extortion.”
THE STAR
THE 17TH MAJOR ARCANA CARD
The card features a large star overhead, and below, a figure much like Aquarius: a woman pouring two jugs of water.
Upright: pause, reflect, ponder, inspiration, healing, contemplate what’s precious
Reversed: arrogance, haughtiness, hopelessness
What Clarice whispered to Pax: “Wake up, you fool. What you need is right over there waiting for you.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Pax hails a carriage to Times Square. The carriage bumps and jolts and adds to my sense of reeling, rattled to my bones. Silence hangs over us like a black velvet cloak, heavy and smothering. I feel Pax’s eyes on me as I once felt his hands on me—gentle but firm. Pleading.
His voice cracks though the silence, like coffee over ice. “I feel sick with wrath. How do I letall this ragego?”
His agony surprises me, and it guts me. I ease my hand toward his. He lifts our knotted fingers to his lips. I lean in and place my forehead against his. We share our breath.
