chapter forty-five
THE CREATURE
O ne might think having so many valuable items in one room would be a liability. I guessed no one thought of that when they organized this circus.
There must have been enough paintings and pieces of art to add up to millions in value, yet they sat here without even so much as a rope barrier to keep nosy patrons from touching them.
The museum had closed off most of the rooms and kept the event contained to just one wing, but it still baffled me how much they trusted these guests with their precious items just because they were paying for them.
The only redeemable quality about this overly pretentious display was the complimentary liquor.
I took a long sip from my glass. The liquid only burned, though I could taste the peppery whiskey notes as I drank.
Events like these were so boring. I did not know why my father insisted I come.
I know he disapproved of my time away from the Nest, so attending this frivolous thing was the least I could do to get him off my back.
I was not looking forward to the next family gathering.
A thick Russian accent cut through the noise. “You know that you really should smile more. You’re scaring away the food.”
I tilted my head to the side. The elusive Fixer himself had decided to make an appearance.
“I guess they really let anyone in these days,” I sneered, turning my attention back to the crowd as it grew in attendees.
“Can’t you just enjoy one evening without being so sour?” Luka studied a passing group of women, lowering the rim of his glasses before taking them off and tucking them in his vest pocket. “So many pretty little snacks. Do you think they taste better or worse after liquor?”
“Luka,” I warned.
“Actually, I rather like Viktor.” He gleamed, a crazy spark in those blazing eyes. The amber gave off a red glow in the lighting without the presence of those ugly glasses. “It will sound so much better falling out in a clumsy mess from your pet’s mouth.”
My hand snapped out and grabbed him by the throat, my fingers digging into his skin. “Lay a finger on her and I promise you there will be no body for them to find when they look for you.”
“Oh, you are comical. Your father didn’t tell me you were funny.
” He grinned. “I am afraid you are too late for that. Besides, she has such a delightful kick to her.” He laughed, leaning in closer.
“I haven’t had this much fun since—” He tapped his chin, pretending to think about it. “Well, since 1476.”
“You will have no hands to touch her with if you choose to go down this path,” I threatened.
Luka plucked my drink from the bar top. “Then take them.” He let the remaining liquid slip down his throat with a single tip of his head and then slid the cup down the bar to the tender. “I don’t need them to do what I have in mind.”
He pulled away from my grip and winked before retreating through the crowd.
I ran my hand through my hair, scraping along my scalp in frustration.
By the sound of that conversation, I did not have long.
I’d cut off his access to her by moving her around, making her stay with me, or distracting her with enough samples that she would disappear for hours on end.
She was lucky she had me, truly, because there would be nothing stopping him from gutting her the minute she stepped out of her meticulously planned schedule.
I scanned the crowd, losing track of him when he moved through the sea of people. Instead, my eyes landed on a different dark-haired figure. My beautiful shadow was adorned with an expensive green dress next to that babbling fool of a friend.
Is she trying to kill her?
I pushed past the bodies of people. I lost sight of Alina.
That flash of a yellow dress moved through the crowd. I grabbed Phoebe’s arm and yanked her with enough force that I wondered if I’d pulled it out of the socket by the way she glared at me.
“Why must you be so feral?” Phoebe hissed at me, clawing at my hand on her arm.
“What is Alina doing here?” It was less of a question, more of a demand.
“I invited her. Why else would she be here?”
“The Fixer is here,” I started.
“Yes! I heard he was in town. I know things too, see?” She rolled her eyes. “He’s here about a poisoner. That’s why Father called us home. I hope he makes an example out of him.”
“Phoebe”—my voice strained as I pinched the bridge of my nose—“Alina is the Poisoner. How can you be this blind?”
Her face could not have gotten any more pale. “I didn’t?—”
“Think? You didn’t think ? Oh yes, I am well aware of that,” I scoffed. “How do you not know she’s been making poisons out of her shop this whole time?”
“It’s not my fault that she doesn’t tell me anything anymore now that she’s so busy with you!” she seethed, jabbing a finger at my chest. “You could have told me!”
“I thought you knew!” I raised my voice at her. “Maybe she would have told you if you had told her the truth!”
“She would hate me.”
“She’s never going to forgive either of us if Luka gets to her first—” I paused to look around. “Where is she?”
Phoebe chewed her lip and looked around but could not see over the horde.
“If you find her before me, bring her to your home, and don’t let her leave,” I instructed, releasing her arm to push past the crowd of people, frantically looking for that deep-green fabric.