Poppy’s discomfort is the voltaic charge during an electric storm. Her baby blues dull with apprehension as they flick between her father and the detective beside him.
She’s as blindsided as me.
Suddenly, it all makes sense: the decade of her cold cases rotting in filing cabinets wasn’t a byproduct of poor policing. It was the doing of a crooked detective secretly working for her father.
First Quinn, now Scull. I’m starting to feel like Christ and Caesar.
Scull’s lion eyes mark Poppy first, then me. If he’s surprised by my own affiliation with the Morgensterns, he hides it behind a well-crafted poker face. “Never thought I’d see the likes of you here, Bourbon.”
“Touché,mon ami.”
He drags a thumb over his own right cheek. “Lose a brawl with a butter knife?”
Bravado possesses me as I look straight at Alexander—the man who sentenced his own daughter to living this life with a spade in her chest instead of a heart—and drawl, “Blade kink gone wrong.”
Scull chuckles. Poppy stomps on my foot, hissing a rebuke. Rin silently surveys us with a curious curve to her lips as Alexander’s gaze rips from Poppy and stitches to me. His attention is as sharp and leaden as an axe.
“I see my daughter still has a habit of letting strays into her bed.”
I absorb the blow with a locked jaw.
Poppy tuts, luring his focus back to her. “Why is a cop here, Papa?”
No one else seems to notice how everything glacial about him melts. A part of me is envious of that; my father never looked at me the way Alexander looks at Poppy. He’d hand her the world then claim it’s not enough and find a way to give her the entire cosmos instead.
“Detective Scull is a dear friend of ours, Poppyseed. He’s assisting us with our Leviathan problem.”
“Your timing is impeccable,” Rin transitions smoothly, drifting to the bar cart nestled against a nearby shelf and pouring two glasses of sparkling wine. She brings them to us then waves an elegant hand toward a vacant loveseat. “Sit. Tell us about your lead.”
As we lower onto the cushions, Poppy bundles her jacket in her lap and fists the fabric tight. Her nerves chafe my own. I slide my arm behind her, fingertips feathering her tattoo. My touch is light, barely there. It’s my way of reminding her that I’m here, that she’s not alone. Her shoulders loosen, and my chest constricts in response to how comfortable she is around me.
If she knew my secrets, she wouldn’t be.
We show them the damning evidence of Quinn’s involvement with Leviathan. Watching her slink over my roof with that cursed poppet makes it real again. I’m disoriented and numb from the betrayal, a thousand theories tangling in my thoughts as I relay all I know about the person who had been my only friend. Scull has the nerve to wear pity on his face, as if his own knife isn’t lodged in my back. When I’m done and sulking in my own misery, Poppy shares Emi’s findings from her quick and dirty investigation this morning.
Rin aims a grim frown at Alexander, who lobs an equally discomforting look at Scull. A silent conversation passes between them. Ihave a nagging suspicion it’s a continuation of whatever clandestine meeting they’d been having before we arrived.
“We appreciate your persistence on this matter,” Alexander says, swirling his wine. “Scull will take it from here.”
Poppy’s spine locks. “What? Why?”
“Because we have more faith in him than you.”
Poppy recoils as if she’s been slapped. I grind my teeth against the ripostes that are far too dangerous for me to speak. This isn’t my battle.
“I know I haven’t been able to clean up this mess as quickly as I thought, Papa, but it’smyresponsibility.”
Alexander’s icy glare lances across the space. “You’ve done enough. We cannot afford any more of your failures.”
“I-I’m sorry, Papa.”
“You are not a little girl anymore. Sorry is as worthless as excuses.”
Poppy shrinks into my side, bowing under shame’s heavy weight. My arm curls protectively around her shoulders, my glower firmly affixed on Scull. His features remain carefully neutral, his posture radiating only slight unease from being in a room full of agitated predators.
“There's no time left, Poppyseed,” Rin adds in a hushed tone, like speaking across a deathbed. Firelight smelts her mercury irises as she gazes into the flames almost longingly. “Scull has more resources at his disposal than we do. You’re off the case. Permanently.”
Rage rises like a moonlit tsunami in Poppy’s entire body, ready to decimate everything in her path. A single steely lour from Alexander, though, and it falls just as quickly. She visibly sags, her head lowering submissively.
