Paxpshaws this. “William Stead left me a pile of money. I’ll pay your rent.”
I can’t possibly be indebted to someone as steeped in wrath as Pax Princip. “Absolutely not.”
Pax licks his lips. His face has softened slightly, but there are still hints of the wolflike anger from just moments ago.
He inhales deeply, and I sense that he’s forcibly softening his exterior. He smiles his extra-electric smile at Nirav.
“Nirav, is it?”
The boy nods. He’s leery of Pax, but he’s listening.
“I’ll pay for a room for you in the same house as Stella here. Would you do that? No strings attached. I promise.” He lifts his palms as if surrendering.
Of all the dirty—
Nirav’s eyes narrow on Pax. He’s smart enough not to agree right away. But he’s also smart enough not to pass up free, if temporary, housing. People like me, Nirav—we live day to day.
Nirav slips his hand into mine and squeezes it, tight. It obviously pains him to do this, to make contact with someone like me who is currently feeling so much anger, sadness, confusion. Nirav’s eyes meet mine. His eyebrows raise:We should do this.
I am furious that Pax would use a kid in this way, but I cannot deny Nirav a roof over his head and food in his belly. He was sleeping on a pallet in a stairwell. I can do this for him.
I agree through gritted teeth. “If you house both of us.”
Why am I agreeing to this? What are we plotting, exactly?
I blink at Pax and I know the answer to that. His eyes are knives. He’d draw and quarter that Blanck asshole if he could. Shadows ooze up through the floorboards of Pax’s apartment and rise slowly like smoke.
Pax paces more. “We’ll need a storefront as cover. A headquarters for meeting, planning. Probably need to do a few high-profile readings, build our name. And research, of course. We have to find Blanck’s Achilles’ heel.”
My skin feels like it’s blistering. Smoke fills my lungs. “I—I can’t—”
Spirit, you’ve been awfully quiet about all this.
Is it permission to proceed with the ultimate revenge? Am I to murder the murderer? Isn’t that justice?
Yes.
The shadows wrap tight around my ankles, slither up my bare leg.
But… no! Those were questions. Who’s answering me?
And he’s there, right beside me, closer than he’s been in over a decade. I cannot look directly at him, but I can see that his eye sockets are drawn and gaunt, dark as an abyss. Shadows crawl beneath his thin, papery skin like worms. His breath on my cheek is hot and smells of decay. I am paralyzed in his presence.
The brim of his hat lingers so close it almost dusts my temple. The Cold One lifts an arm, swooping his musty cloak over my head.
Yes.
I pass out.
CHAPTER TEN
All is dark.
And then, POW! Smelling salts.
I gasp and jerk upright. My heart thrums like hummingbird wings.
There’s our girl!
