Chapter 54
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
My blue eyes.
My thin lips.
My silver hair.
My face stares back at me as I grip the side of the sink, half expecting the ceiling to collapse or the floor to crack at the sound of the explosion.
But it was just an image.
Looking behind myself through the mirror, I see that Ed and Annabel remain, their faces stoic, their eyes boring into the glass. Ed is no longer touching me, his hand now by his side.
“You came to show me what happened, what you did,” I say.
They don’t respond. They don’t need to.
“Thank you,” I tell them.
Ed nods before looking at Annabel, and then they disappear.
Heading back to the bar, I wonder how long I’ve been gone, whether I’m going to have some explaining to do, and what bullshit story I can cook up to satisfy Una’s insatiable curiosity. But as I reach the bottom of the stairs, I feel him.
Valdemar.
Feet tap-dance in my stomach.
Una is laughing, Pierre looks scared to death, and Valdemar sits at the table looking like he’s been added in by the artist as an afterthought.
As I reach the table, he stands.
“ Angel.”
“No talking through the bond. I can’t keep it up in front of Una and Pierre.”
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I say aloud as he pulls me into his chest and plants a kiss on my lips.
We sit, Valdemar gazing at me as if it’s been days since we last saw each other rather than the nine hours I’ve been at work since we parted this morning.
“I’m here for you,” he says.
“But it’s Monday night. I told you I was meeting up with Una and Pierre.”
“I know, and I hate to spoil the evening, but in light of today’s events, there’s now a meeting,” Valdemar explains.
“A meeting?”
As soon as the news broke, I rang Valdemar, and we exchanged our shock at what was being reported. I told him I had to go, as the newsroom was buzzing, and he promised me he would try and find out more details about what had happened at Fortunato’s house.
“You should go.” Una puts her hand on my arm, right on top of my raven tattoo.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you should go,” Pierre echoes. “You’ve spent all day with us. Go be with your people.”
My people.
“I promise never to steal her on a Monday night again,” Valdemar reassures them.
“It’s fine. I think Pierre and I can manage the remaining champagne by ourselves.” Una smiles.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” I say, giving them a small wave.
Una salutes, and Pierre nods, still avoiding looking at Valdemar.
Valdemar stands, places his hand on the small of my back, and steers me out of the bar.
The car is close, and Valdemar opens the passenger door for me before climbing in the driver’s side.
We don’t speak until he’s pulled out onto the road.
“Are you okay, angel?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We’ve been trying to find out what happened,” he says, changing gears. “But the police are all over it. It’s made it hard to get any answers.”
“I know what happened,” I tell him.
Valdemar whips his head round, eyeing me carefully before returning his eyes to the road. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“Through the paper?” he asks.
“No.”
“Then how?” He glances at me quickly, not able to take his eyes from the oncoming traffic.
It takes me the rest of the journey to tell him about Ed and Annabel’s visit and how Ed showed me what they’d done through the mirror. By the time I’m finished, he’s pulling the car into the drive at Corvus House.
“Fuck.” Turning the engine off, Valdemar sits back. “It’s fucking insane.”
“I know.”
“But it’s done. And nothing will lead to us?”
“No.”
He sits up and leans over, closing the gap between us. “I still can’t believe it. That he’s dead. It feels like a dream. And all thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do this,” I say quickly.
“No, but it was your idea. You set it in motion. If it weren’t for you, Fortunato would still be sitting behind his desk, counting his money and dealing his drugs, the bodies stacking up.”
“Men like Fortunato always get their comeuppance.”
“Not always, but on this occasion, you were clever enough to uproot him.” He pushes my hair from my face. “You are a truly exceptional person, Evangeline.” Hearing him say my name, which he very rarely uses, unfurls something inside me.
I bow my head, the compliment heating my cheeks.
“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he says, tipping my chin. “You listen to me. You have saved your brother and Annabel from eternal unrest, you have released this city from the clutches of a tyrant, you have brought the Raven Hands into the twenty-first century, and you have saved me. How is that not the work of an exceptional person?”
“It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done.”
“But I didn’t do it, angel. I buried my head in the sand and hid away in prison for ten years rather than fight this war. You did it. You. So, hold your fucking head up high.”
“I just feel like it’s too little too late. All those people he killed. All the lives he’s ruined. All the things he’s done. It’s too late for them. Too late for Ed. Too late for Annabel.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t keep looking behind you. What’s done is done. Think of the people you’ve saved—the ones who were on his list, the ones who would have crossed his path in the future. You saved them all.”
“I guess.”
“Ever the humble warrior.” He smirks.
“I’m no warrior.”
“I beg to differ. Just because you don’t wield a gun doesn’t mean you’re not a fighter. You are intelligent, brave, and resilient, and I’m honoured to have a front-row seat in your life.”
“Are you getting soppy on me, Montresor?”
My effort at deflecting his compliment seriously backfires when he grips my chin and says, “No, angel, I’m getting fucking hard for you.”
He presses his lips to mine, and I’m enveloped by the taste of him.
“I wish we had time to extend that kiss, but unfortunately, we’ll have to postpone, as everyone is waiting for you.”
I furrow my brow. “Everyone?”
“You didn’t expect this to go down lightly, did you? You were the one who rallied them eight weeks ago with your promises.”
“I guess. I just….”
“What?” he pushes.
“I don’t know.” I shrug.
He smiles. “Take it as a win, angel. We don’t often get them, so enjoy it.” He goes to open the door, but I stop him, pulling at his arm.
“There’s just one thing before we go inside.”
Valdemar eyes me carefully.
“I want you to tell me what happened the night my brother was shot,” I say.
There’s a beat before he speaks. “You know what happened.” He regards me. “You saw it for yourself.”
“I know,” I say. “But Fortunato and Dr Tem-Pest are dead, so I want you to tell me.”
It takes a second before he realises what I’m getting at. Then Valdemar takes a breath and tells me everything, word for word.
When he finishes, I place my hand on his. He looks like a different man, like a weight has been lifted, like the shackles have finally been removed.
“How does it feel?” I ask him.
“Strange. Like the words don’t belong to me. I’ve been telling the lie for so long that I almost believed it was true.”
“I’m sure Jacinta and Jupiter will feel the same,” I point out. “I just wish we could tell the world.” I smooth over the back of his hand. We both know that can’t happen. It would reveal too much about the Raven Hands, who we are, what we can do.
“The world doesn’t need to know,” Valdemar says at last.
“But the Raven Hands do.” I smile.
“Then we shall tell them.”
“ You will tell them, in your own words.”
He kisses me lightly before we exit the car, ready to face our people.
When we enter Corvus House, I can already feel the energy of the Raven Hands. They’re assembled in the Great Hall, all of them looking different from the evening of the party. Some are in uniforms, having just come straight from work, others in jeans and sweats, and some in hijabs and shalwar kameez.
As I enter the hall, they applaud.
I marvel at how far I’ve come from having a gun aimed at me.
My face heats as Valdemar leads me to the stage.
We stand on it together, Valdemar raising my arm, and I can’t help but smile at them.
“Ding dong, the witch is dead!” a Raven Hand calls, and the crowd laughs.
“Speech!” someone else shouts.
“No, I.…” But I don’t get far, as Valdemar lets go of my hand and ushers me forwards.
And as I stand in front of my people, something awakens inside me, like it did the last time I stood on this stage and faced this crowd.
The applause and cries die down as my mouth opens. Words tumble out, and I’ve no idea where they’re coming from, but I can tell that they’re listening, all of them, hanging on my every word.
“Today is only the beginning. It marks the start of a new age, a new generation of Raven Hands who will do whatever it takes to stand up for what is right, what is just, and what is fair. We no longer hide in the shadows of a tyrant but walk in the daylight of freedom, hand in hand, side by side.”
As I say my last word, Valdemar joins me.
He looks at me, and I look at him, and we smile as he takes my hand in his and raises it in the air.
“The Raven Hands!” he calls, and the crowd chants it back.
My people.
Our people.
And in that moment, something Valdemar said to me at one of our first meetings in the prison comes back to me.
Raven Hands aren’t chosen.
We become Ravens.