Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
MAGGIE
Breaking away from the party takes longer than I imagine. Drunken aunties want to dance, and family friends want the gossip on Roman.
I’m relieved when I finally escape with a bottle of champagne in hand, threading my way through to the restricted area of the house where wedding guests aren’t welcome. Kicking off my heels, I groan as my feet touch the cold floor.
Heaven.
The music from the ballroom thrums in the distance, and it’s like being underwater. Like my ears are full.
‘Roman?’ I call softly, as I near the stairs.
No answer.
I’m met with screeching and grunting. I make it around the corner and see Roman sprawled across the floor, with Eddie on top of him.
Fucking Eddie.
For a split second, my brain refuses to process the full scene. They are both coated in blood, whose I can’t tell. But there is a flash of silver in Eddie’s hand.
Coffin is screaming above us. Not cawing. Full-blown screaming like a banshee.
No no no no no.
I drop the bottle, my ankles soaking as it explodes behind me in a loud crash.
‘Get off him!’ My voice is raw as I throw myself into the fray.
I grab Eddie’s shoulder with both hands and haul as hard as I can. Which isn’t hard enough. He turns on me without hesitation. A flash of motion and pain bursts across my face. My head snaps to the side, and I stagger back.
Warmth slides over my lip with an acrid iron taste.
Blood.
Coffin’s screeching gets louder.
‘Maggie!’ Roman pants. ‘Get help—’
Eddie stands, levelling a kick into Roman’s stomach, and grins at me. ‘You see? This is what happens when you bring outsiders in.’
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, staring at the red streak that appears. Cold fury uncoils deep in my stomach. I hate him.
‘You’re mine. I’m going to kill this pathetic fucker, and then I’m going to marry you before the weekend’s through.’
‘Over my dead body,’ I spit.
‘No, over his. But if necessary, I’ll take Eliza.’
I can’t help but laugh. ‘Eliza wouldn’t touch you if you were the last prick alive.’
Roman rolls and pushes to his knees. Eddie notices and turns back to him, fingers gripping the handle of his blade. A flurry to my left catches my eye.
Coffin perches on a baseball bat. Clever bird.
I inch closer, mouthing thank you to the one-eyed crow as my hands close around the smooth wood. It’s heavy as I pick it up, my pulse hammering in my throat.
Dashing forward, I swing.
It connects with Eddie’s arm with a sickening, meaty thud that rattles my teeth. With a roar, Eddie stumbles back and lifts his knife toward me in his non-battered hand.
Roman groans. ‘Fucking run, Maggie.’
But running would leave Roman to Eddie’s knife. He’d be dead long before I could get back.
I swing harder. The bat slams into Eddie’s forearm as he charges at me with the knife. It skids across the floor in a metallic glimmer.
Roman takes the moment to throw himself at Eddie’s legs, tackling him to the floor.
I don’t remember moving, but suddenly I’m staring at the knife.
It’s heavier than I expected when I pick it up.
A shiver dances through me at the thought of the death Eddie’s favourite knife had wrought.
I’d first seen it when we were just kids.
I’d seen the pain it could elicit before I’d even hit puberty.
Tremors shake my body as Roman gets Eddie into a headlock, choking him from behind while they lie on the floor.
Eddie’s laughter descends into a cough, blood bubbling at his mouth.
‘Go on then, Maggie,’ he taunts. ‘Show us what you’re made of, you finally going to make your daddy proud?’
I step closer, my eyes flicking to Roman, his brow furrowing at the knife in my hand. Will he hate me if I do this? As much as Eddie mocks me, this is my chance to prove myself. And if Eliza is to be believed, the first kill is the hardest.
A drop of blood wells beneath the tip of the blade as I press it to Eddie’s throat, Roman sliding clear of him. Eddie’s pulse flutters there, vital and strong.
‘You should have come in like you usually do, quiet and hidden, the knife filleting a throat before a man even knows you’re there, but you just had to gloat, didn’t you, Eddie?’
I can’t do it.
‘You wanted me to watch.’
‘You need to learn your place, Maggie. You’re not a killer. All you’re good for is being a bang maid and your last fucking name.’
A red haze descends over me, and for one horrifying second, I want to slice him from ear to ear.
Will it quiet the buzzing in my head if I do? I want him gone. The world will be a better place when he is.
My hands are shaking so badly that the knife trembles against his skin.
Roman’s voice cuts through it, low and urgent and desperate. ‘Maggie. Look at me. You don’t have to do this. Not for me.’
A sob escapes my throat as realisation folds around me.
‘I can’t,’ I whisper.
Eddie explodes upward the moment he sees my weakness, snatching the blade from my hand and shoving me aside like I’m nothing.
I hit the floor hard, air escaping my lungs in a painful huff. Tears prick as I realise I’ve doomed Roman.
‘Stop!’ I scream. ‘I’ll marry you.’
Time stretches as Eddie looks over at me. ‘I know. And I’ll make you a necklace out of Roman’s fingers as a wedding present.
He lifts the knife as I crawl toward him, desperate to make him stop.
There’s a whistle in the air, and then a wet, gargling sound. Eddie’s knife falls to the floor as his hands grip his throat. There’s a blade wedged in his throat, red bubbling around the metal.
For a second, no one moves.
Until Eliza emerges from the shadows. She looks pristine as she steps over the broken glass and spilt champagne, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear.
Even I shudder at her poise as Eddie staggers against the bannister. Eliza doesn’t miss a step as she takes a few stairs, standing immediately behind Eddie, whose mouth flaps soundlessly.
An acrid wave of vomit hits my throat, and I swallow it down.
Sweet as can be, Eliza reaches around Eddie and yanks her knife from his throat, sending an arc of red gushing out over the floor.
He collapses, twitching. And then not.
Even Coffin goes quiet.
I slump to the floor, heart hammering so hard it hurts. Roman looks even worse than I feel. His first body.
Hopefully, the only dead body he’ll ever need to see.
Eliza exhales slowly as she twirls her bloodied knife between her fingers.
‘God,’ she says. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for fucking years. What an asshole.’