chapter thirty-four
THE POISONER
T he crisp morning air was enough to wake my senses.
A thin veil of fog settled on top of the pond and extended out to the tree line over the field, waiting for the sun to evaporate it.
The sky held a soft blue and purple glow, and a few darting birds crossed the canvas before us.
Blackbirds could be heard as they woke their fellow woodland creatures. It was perfect. This place was a haven.
“We should go to town afterward to grab something sweet. I know the most perfect little bakery,” Phoebe chattered almost as much as the blackbirds as she squeezed my arm.
“I won’t say no to sweets.” I took in a deep breath of crisp air as I consumed the smells of autumn approaching.
“How was it last night? I saw that you snuck in a little treat for yourself over on the love seat.” She smirked, seemingly overjoyed that I did something other than sulk alone in a corner.
My heart did that funny thing again, leaping up into my throat. I tried to forget. I needed to forget both men before I could rationalize any feelings I had for either of them. “I don’t feel like talking about it if you don’t mind.”
“Wait, what happened? Did I misread?” She stumbled over her words. “I thought you?—”
“He kissed me. I told him I wasn’t interested.”
“He is just your type! Why would you say no?” she gasped. “He’s studying medicine. He is into all those weird little science things. I met him at the garden party! He was so sweet looking for you! Your own Prince Charming!”
“What?” My eyes narrowed at her.
“He was looking for you?—”
“No, the other thing.”
“I met him at the garden party?”
“I thought you had known him before that. You didn’t invite him?”
She looked at me worriedly and said, “No, I assumed that it was someone you knew, since he knew your name and said he was supposed to meet you there.”
“Phoebe, I met him the same day you did.” I frowned.
“Maybe he is just a fan of your work.”
“I guess that could be. He did say that he read my journals.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Phoebe. I don’t mean to scare you. I must be coming down with some sort of paranoid fit.” I laughed nervously, walking with her down to the gazebo.
The flowers around the edge of the pond were wilted. I momentarily stopped to look at them before seeing inky liquid in the clear water.
My gaze trailed farther into the brush, seeing two pale eyes staring back at me.
The kind of sound that escaped me must have resembled something unfamiliar, as I could not remember the type of shriek I made.
My first instinct was to grab Phoebe by the face and cover her eyes, backing her away from the water’s edge.
“Don’t look, don’t look.” My voice shook as she tried to remove my hand from her eyes.
There was a head in the pond.
Boris’s head.
The discovery made the morning awkward as people woke up from their drunken slumbers.
As news spread, suspicious looks were traded among attendees.
The weight of what had happened hung in the air like the blanket of fog outside.
Phoebe had disappeared into her chambers.
I assumed that this had been hard on her.
I wish I could have covered her eyes quicker after I spotted it, sparing her the image.
What good was I if I could not even spare her from the horrors that followed me?
There was only one person who would be bold enough to do that, and I was cross with him at the moment.
Especially finding out in this not-so-subtle way that he was still watching me.
Was this a warning? Did he see what happened between Viktor and me?
My only hope that he might not have seen was the fact that Viktor’s body was not in the pond as well.
Retreating to my room, I grounded myself with calming breaths and pacing. A heavy heat plagued me despite my dress being a thin silk tea gown with little extra weight to it. I pinned my hair up into a bun so it was not adding more to the calidity.
A sad-looking reflection in the mirror returned my gaze.
The cold blue of her eyes was pale, and she looked like she had seen a thing too many in her short time on earth.
I did not recognize myself anymore. So much had happened since I returned.
I wondered if staying out in the countryside would have been better.
Maybe it was selfish of me to return to civilization. I was a hazard to everyone around me.
By later that evening, the tension had never eased. My depression slowly fermented into something new: rage. I’d already made it perfectly clear that he needed to leave me alone for my own mental well-being. It was like he was dead set on making sure I never knew peace.
Some of that rage was pointed at me. I felt terrible for giving in to Viktor’s advances and kissing him, but I wondered if things might have worked out between us had Silas not gotten his hands on me.
A typical, boring, wholesome romance. Something that blossomed sweetly, a stable life.
At the same time, I might become depressed if I ever settled down, especially now that I knew how exciting it was to be with Silas.
As obsessive and scary as he was, he lit something deep inside me that was impossible to ignore.
I might just be addicted to the adrenaline high.
My dinner went cold. As much as I wanted to eat, my appetite had dissipated.
My frustration with the situation manifested as tears when I excused myself from the crowded table.
I was the reason for too many innocent deaths.
At this point, I wondered if it would ever be near the number of guilty souls I had taken.
I choked back my feelings until I got behind the safety of a closed bedroom door. I pushed it closed and rested my forehead against the wood. A frustrated sob welled up in my throat as I tried to collect myself, gently tapping my forehead against the door.
“You look absolutely radiant when you’re angry,” Silas whispered against my neck.
Something else took over inside me, like snapping a violin’s bow when the pressure became unbearable. I turned around and delivered a crisp slap across his face. I must not know my strength, because he stumbled after the loud crack landed on his cheek.
“You are the worst at following directions! I have known children with better impulse control than you!” I scolded.
“I can explain?—”
“What is there to explain? You cannot just kill anyone who insults me! If you killed every man who said similar things to Boris, I think half of the men I’ve met would be in the Thames by now!”
“I will not allow anyone to speak to you like that.” His eyes narrowed. “Did he not deserve it?”
“I am perfectly capable of handling him myself. If I wanted him dead, I would do it myself .” I rubbed my temples as if to avoid working myself into a migraine. “Do you forget who I am? You put me at risk when you try to handle things for me. Since when did you decide that I can’t handle myself?”
He drew closer to me. “You can handle yourself, you say? Are you so sure? Because if my memory serves me correctly, you seem to get yourself into entirely too much trouble.” He loomed over me, the air thick between us.
“I couldn’t stand how pathetic you looked when you cried on those steps, begging me to save you from the monster in your kitchen. ”
My mouth gaped open, unable to find the words to throw back at him. There was only contempt.
He sighed and shook his head. “ No , no, that’s not what I wanted to say.”
“I think you’ve said enough,” I breathed. “Leave.”
“No.”
“Silas, I will scream.”
“You won’t.”
I took in a deep breath, and he slapped his hand over my mouth, muffling the screech I summoned from every drop of anger I held within me.
“For Christ’s sake, Alina!” He yanked me away from the door and shoved me onto the bed with such force that I hit the headboard with a bang.
“Get away from me!” I screamed at him, scrambling up until my back was pressed against the headboard. I gripped the throbbing in the back of my head in an attempt to ease the pounding. Choking back tears, I tried not to show that it hurt or that he’d startled me.
“Are you done?” he asked tiredly.
“Are you?”
“Depends. Are you still angry?”
“Obviously.”
“Then no, I am not finished yet.” He crawled toward me on the bed.
My foot extended to kick him, but he caught my ankle, forcing it back down. His body towered over me as I lay beneath him.
Usually, he would try to snake his way out of conflict by touching or kissing, or sucking his way into getting me to calm down. Not this time. This time, he lay down and pulled me into the warmest embrace that had ever taken grasp of my body.
My breath hitched as his arms wrapped around me, one hand on my back and the other holding my face into the crook of his neck. Tremors took over my body as I tried to convince myself not to cry.
Don’t unravel — don’t do it in front of him.
The silence made me angrier, but I could not help but melt.
He was intoxicating, my worst addiction.
My head buried farther into his neck, his strong arms around me.
A hand caressed my head, smoothing my hair back.
His chin rested on top of my head. This must be what it felt like for a fly in the grasp of a Venus flytrap, slowly dissolving until nothing was left to give.
“I can’t stand when you cry,” he said quietly. “The smell burns the inside of my nose.”
The comment made my lips pinch into a brief smile, but I could not hold it in any longer. The tears just came as quickly as my feelings were changing.
He pulled away to peer down at me, using his thumb to wipe away the wetness from my face.
“I love your eyes, even when they’re red from tears.
” He placed his hand on the side of my face.
“I have never seen someone look at something as wretched as me only to be left in awe,” he whispered as he rested his forehead against mine.
“For that reason, your eyes will always be precious to me, in any form. I want nothing more than to climb inside your skull and see the world as you do.”
It took a long moment to process his words. They were overwhelming me in ways I didn’t know how to react to.
“Silas…”
“I have not known fear until I met you, Alina,” he interrupted me. “Do you know how horrifying it was to see you on those stairs and wonder what could have possibly scared you enough to cry out to me , of all things?”
The pain in his voice was desperate, begging for me to understand him.
“I realized that it wasn’t you who scared me the most,” he whispered finally against my lips, looking at me through his lashes. “What scared me is what would happen to me without you.”
Did he mean that?
I looked at the world with endless awe and romanticism, but I had never considered that someone could look at me the same way—to be someone’s unknown, begging to be explored.
That someone could take delight in piecing together my very being.
I could feel the tears rising in my eyes again. This was all too much.
“I want to go home.” My voice cracked into a whimper despite my efforts to remain steady. “Please take me home, Silas.”
“ Shh. ” He pulled me in tighter, like I would slip away if he let go. “You just have to be here a little longer while I figure this out. All right? Then I’ll take you anywhere you ask of me,” he said softly, pulling the covers over us and holding me tight.
I was wrapped in a cocoon. His smokey scent became a comfort rather than a warning.
Those notes of blackberries and bay weighed on my senses before calming them.
His embrace was no longer predatory, even though every logical part of my brain said it should be.
This should terrify me. It should make me want to kill him, but the urge was fading every time he held me in his arms. No one had ever killed for me, and it was becoming harder to stay angry at the gesture.
No matter what my ethics said, I found it romantic.
However, I did not appreciate him handling things for me. I would rather do my own dirty work.
I did not know if he slept at all that night. All I knew was that he never left my side.
That was all that mattered.