Chapter 31
“I ONLY HAVE EYES FOR YOU” BY THE FLAMINGOS
Chicago.
No-man's-land.
A place where constant territory shoot-outs took place.
It was a city that held the lives of many of our family, our mob.
Those who took the steps to rise in our ranks moved to Chicago and took care of business, idiots who would do just about anything for money.
They’d be dragged through the ditches and would fight for drugs in alleyways.
I’d only been there once before, when I was younger and na?ve to the real reasons my father fought so much with his friends.
If only I had seen they weren’t friends, but enemies, innocent people who had stepped over the wrong line.
Maybe if I had seen it sooner, I wouldn’t have been so easily manipulated into this life.
“This is who you are.”
Smoke lingered in the air from the sizzling coals a few feet from us. I could breathe, but with the same burning difficulty that came with smoking a cigarette.
My grandfather stood beside me, my jacket in his hands. I snapped out of my trance on the bright red and orange coals when he raised Dominik’s stars above my head into the smoke.
I shouldn’t be here. It was well past Estelle’s bedtime, and she was home alone with my mother and two men I didn’t know.
Besides, the Harrekson name belonged to me. Why the fuck was I being put through a goddamn initiation before I was even made by killing Quinntessa?
This didn’t sit right with me. I’d grown up learning the timeline of how things worked in our family, and never had I found a time when the family welcomed someone into their way of life without an assigned hit under their belt.
Everything I’d done—anyone I’d harmed or killed—before now was all for training under the guidance of men much worse than me.
“It’s important to know you are a member of this family, but once you cross this line . . .” His blue eyes stared down at me, the flame flicking in the reflection. “There is no leaving. You are one with your sins. You must make the choice.”
“Do I really have a choice?” I spat.
Men around me cackled. I stared into my grandfather’s eyes until he let out a booming laugh and waved my jacket around. I was glad he found something funny about all this, because I was imagining how satisfying it would be to murder him.
“This is my girl. My granddaughter!” he cheered.
He grabbed my jaw and showed me around proudly to the men and handful of women who surrounded us. His rings dug into my face, though I bit my tongue to hide my discomfort. I was his trophy. Every horrible thing they put me through came down to this initiation.
Grandfather leaned closer to me and smirked, patting my cheek and releasing my face.
“I have eyes in the back of my head, Eleanor?—”
“Quincy,” I corrected him. “If I’m going to be dragged into this, I want my name to be my choice.”
His tall stature was intimidating. My grandfather was a strong man, still broad at his age. While he had my mother young, it never held him back from taking what he wanted.
“You can have any name you want when you become a boss,” he whispered, his thumb and forefinger holding my chin. “Look me in the eye, Eleanor. See the potential you have reflecting in them.”
I did as I was told and met his sharp, icy gaze. The green of his eyes was almost nonexistent in this light, the fire breathing like a sickening dragon.
I didn’t see potential. I saw a monster waiting to be unleashed. The demons inside me, the ones Papa always encouraged me to kill, were shrieking to escape before I stepped onto the hot coals.
We were beside the state line in the woods, and I could see Illinois feet from me. I kept my breathing deep, welcoming the smoking ash that waited for me. Never in a million years had I dreamed of being here. It was one of my worst nightmares.
I worried this might be the only way to save her.
Estelle. To save Estelle.
And Erica. And Olivia. Darcy too. Maybe Noah Pierce. Christian. I would want to save Duke for Estelle’s benefit. I would want to save every Ghoul. Every Spirit. Every Hunter. Most teachers—Mr. Evers and his weird sweater vest addiction was questionable, but I’d be nice enough to save him.
And Sally.
I . . . I wanted to save Sally.
My heart raced at the thought of her. I swore, I could see the worry in my own eyes reflecting at me from the depths of my dedushka’s deathly gaze.
“You have the potential to destroy your very worst demons with my help,” he whispered. An unbelievably kind smile crossed his face. “And I know I am going to be so proud of you. Are you ready?”
“Dedushka.” I licked my lips and glanced toward the man on the salt line in the coals. “Who is he?”
“You must know?” He raised his brows when I nodded. “Very well.”
He dropped my face and brushed my hair back. His palms ran over my cheeks, smearing Harrekson blood over my cheeks. I squeezed my eyes shut and accepted his touch, though I did not want to think about what was coming next.
“I’d like you to meet Simon Artyomov.” My grandfather ran his hands down my bare arms and took my wrists. “I’d like you to show him your best talent.”
“Fucking up?” I muttered.
The man chuckled and gently pat my cheek again. He released me, stepping back and grabbing a weapon from the holder he had thrown Dominik’s jacket over.
“You must believe in yourself, Eleanor. As I do.” His voice was drowned out by the surrounding noise. “You must believe you are capable.”
My chin raised as loud screams echoed through the woods. That fire in my chest tugged at my shriveled lungs as tears bubbled into my eyes. A sob threatened to escape me, the darkness closing in on the dream land I’d been living in inside Coven.
A bow and its corresponding metal arrow were placed in my hands. The fire flickered enough for me to spot the H engraved in the metal of its tip through the darkness. The only light guiding my hand to the bow’s grip coming through the tree limbs above in the light of the moon.
Don’t let the sun catch you killing.
Once the bow settled in my hand and the arrow twirled through my fingers, my grandfather placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. He leaned down, resting our heads together for only a fleeting second. His lips swiveled around toward my ear, where he released his breath.
“It’s my understanding you have a deal with your father,” he whispered, “but I’d like you to consider something else.”
I swallowed and bobbed my chin.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
My grandfather leaned back and smiled down at me. He pinched my cheek hard and shoved my face away.
“Prove to me your woman enough, and I’ll give you more than you desire.” He tapped his temple. “I’m a smart man, Eleanor. I see all. I see what you desire . . . who you desire. Desire is powerful when channeled correctly.”
“Who I . . .” I gulped. “I-It’s not like that.”
A sinister smile ripped across his face.
“Do it for her,” he said.
Her.
How damned was I to consider which her he was referring to? It could be anyone: my daughter, my mother, my grandmother, my friends, my . . . my girl.
“Quinntessa,” I breathed out under the loud screams of my family.
The lava in my chest boiled, her name tattooed along my tingling lips. I tried to change my mind, shift my thoughts, but it was too late. All I remembered was the exciting metallic taste of her blood on my tongue.
With that, my grandfather turned and walked beside the screaming coals to greet his guests. His voice boomed to the others, not bothered by how close we were to the outside world.
Erica once called my family a cult. She was right.
To save those I considered my friends and family, I was forced into a blood oath and devoted myself to my mob name.
I was becoming a member, and then Mustang would make me a star.
I had to kill her to lean into my legacy.
I had to let my desire for her burn so hot, I exploded and did what needed to be done.
That was why people were dragged out to the woods at the state line.
To become one of the stars above.
“Eleanor Harrekson. My child’s child. My blood and legacy!” he continued to introduce me like lemon and lime squeezed directly on my tongue.
I wanted to puke. I didn’t fucking want that name.
My ears rang, a high-pitched whine that vibrated in my skull, as I adjusted the grip of my bow. My fingertips flicked the string, sending vibrations up my arm as the limbs of the instrument glided outward.
A bow was an instrument. When shot correctly, it sang a melody that kissed my soul. It had been a few months since Dominik and I shot together out in the woods. I hoped it wasn’t long enough that I’d lost my ability to avoid embarrassing my family.
“We come before all.” His words rattled within my skull. “Before your mother. Before your father. Before your child. Before your friends. If you are to become one of the stars, you must prove yourself!”
“Prove yourself!” Screams of agreement broke the air. A damp, earthy smell rose from the forest floor as I shuffled my bare feet over the sticks and dirt, feeling the cold seep into my soles. Smoke rose into my face, and the moon guided me toward the thick pathway of hot coals.
Frank Sinatra had a song called “Chicago.”
I closed my eyes and focused on the distant music in my head. The beautiful rhythm fueled my quick heart, each breath mending with a lyric I wished I could sing to release my anxiety.
The scars on the bottom of my feet remembered walking the hot coals numerous times before. I took small little steps and prepared myself for the feeling, opening my eyes and raising my bow with the arrow nuzzled in place.
“I am a star.” I breathed in, holding my breath and perfecting my window.
Simon screamed loudly against the tape over his mouth.
It muffled the sound. I barely heard it beside the yelling around me and my grandfather’s encouraging cheer.
Even then, it all seemed so distant with Frank Sinatra’s voice in my ears and the faint image of dancing around my room with Quinntessa.