He leans in close, closer. Can he feel my heartbeat through my thin cotton dress? His whisper is a warm, gentle breath on my ear. A shiver runs down my spine.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this for me, Stella,” he mutters. “You barely know me and yet you’re here, helping me seek justice for my sister. No one has ever done something that selfless for me. I am so grateful. I am forever in your debt.”
I almost confess—my sister, too—but I can’t. I can’t trust Pax to know the truth. I can’t tell him about Daisy. If he discoversthat I, too, have a motive for revenge, he will surely use that to manipulate me. He cannot know that we both seek vengeance. I will be swept away in his flood of wrath.
As if he feels my hesitancy, Pax pulls me closer still. He senses it, does he not? That we are bound together by something so much greater than ourselves? Something dark and mysterious?
Daisy. Her name is in my throat, on the tip of my tongue, but it doesn’t emerge.My sister, too.
The shadowy presences of the Dark Trio creep into the corners of my vision, their coldness leaching into my bones, setting my teeth on edge. If I can maintain my motive as revenge for his sister Julia, and not my sister Daisy, will they stay at bay? The buildings that loom around us seem to press in, as if breathing, threatening to topple and bury us all in rubble. Suffocating. Smothering. My fingers tighten around Pax, gripping his shoulder, his hand. He reacts to that with his hips, pulling mine closer to his. Oh! I am breathless. Our gazes lock. My breath is stolen.
Daisy!
The Trio hisses.
She’s here, with us. Come see, Stella.
No. NO. It’s a lie.
Why don’t I say it? Why don’t I let him know this is personal for me as well?
No. It is too much of my heart to share with someone I just met. His heart is against my heart, his pull is irresistible. If he knew I want vengeance as badly as he does… it would be too easy to mistake our lust for revenge as attraction for each other, would it not? It would be even easier for him to persuade me to use my gifts in terrible ways.
I pull out of his embrace abruptly. He looks stung, so I muster up some playfulness. “Youareforever in my debt, it seems. But you say you always pay.”
He smiles and offers his hand. I hesitate, but I take it. Pax twirls me, once, twice. Dizzy and disorienting. And his eyes have grown steely by the time I’ve spun back to face him.
“Max Blanck is about to discover exactly that,” he growls. “I always pay my debts.”
Yes. Pax is the dance.
I know I should keep my distance. But I truly love to dance.
THE WESTERN UNION TELEGRAPH COMPANY
From W. Stead, Southampton, England
To P. Princip, New York City
9 April 1912
I BOARD SHIP TOMORROW STOP
THE FINAL LIST FOR JB AS DISCUSSED STOP
RECRUIT ALL STOP
THEIR REFUSAL IS UNACCEPTABLE
LADY ROSE BOHDAN
KIYOKO WATANABE
MLLE CLARICE DUBOIS
EDGAR CAYCE
DAVENPORT BROS
