37. The Ghost
The Ghost
It’s unfortunate that my Mallary doesn’t want to be honest with herself, even when I’ve proven that I can take on all this darkness for her. That I want to protect her from the shadows she’s constructed around herself.
Soon, she’ll understand. I’m sure of it.
I make the mistake of not slipping into the walls at the earliest opportunity, lost in my musings. It’s late, anyway.
As I turn the corner in the east wing, Leo waits, standing in the middle of the hall, his little crony a casual ten feet behind.
“Scared to speak to me alone?” I stop only a few paces away.
“You can’t keep throwing these tantrums.”
I sneer, not that he can see it. Desmond doesn’t shy away from looking at me, at the mask. If it unsettles him, he hides it well. “I thought I had your blessing.”
“Not my staff,” Leo growls. “He was a decent handyman. Now we have to find another.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“You’re stalling. Should I be concerned?”
“Concerned for what?”
“We’ve not held on to one of our tutors this long. I thought if anything, the missing staff member today would have been her.” Suspicion twists his features. “What is it?”
“Can’t I play with her first?”
“It’s not like you.”
“She’s done nothing to warrant her death.” The opposite, actually.
“You need explicit instruction? Then here’s your order: do it.”
It’s worked in the past when I still thought I needed his approval. I laugh in his face.
They forget that in this house, while I am the executioner, I am also judge and jury.
“I’m not your dog. You already have one of those.”
We don’t speak often, but when we do, he normally leaves with this look like he wishes I really did drown in that pond. Too dense to get that he is not in charge. Frustration wrinkles between his brows. “Should I just do it myself?”
“You would never get your hands dirty.”
His jaw ticks. Desmond, to his credit, looks somewhat uncomfortable, glancing around the hall.
Leo is a small man. It’s not hard to make him feel smaller when I step closer.
I used to fantasize about grinding him under my heel like a roach.
“I wonder what means more to you: that Henri finally becomes your renowned child prodigy, or that your Ghost is obedient and too preoccupied to set his sights on you?”
Leo’s features twist.
I almost lower my mask and remind him of every truth they try to hide—that their Ghost is one of them.
Desmond doesn’t step any closer, but I see the heightened awareness, the tight muscles of his shoulders, ready to spring into action if needed. So tense. So scared.
“You know she is good for Henri. You can’t have both.”
One stride closer to Leo, and he falters, falling one step back.
He didn’t mean to show that little bit of fear, I can see it on his face. “There are rules Arn—”
“Bastien,” I hiss.
Leo’s hands turn to fists at his sides. “She’s got you addicted to her cunt, doesn’t she? Maybe she’s smarter than I give her credit for.”
That he’s thought of her at all has my blood boiling. “Watch it.”
“Get you wrapped around her finger and all of a sudden she has a rabid guard dog.” He scowls. “Such wasted potential. If pussy is what you want, I can find better lays than that—”
I take one more step and it shuts the fucker up.
The crony looks ready to pounce. Our eyes meet.
“Make sure he gets to bed safe.” I turn to leave, unwilling to talk to Leo any longer. Every second I am here, my skin crawls. I have better things to do. “Wouldn’t want another strange disappearance to answer for.”