46
THE POISONER
Most guests were setting off, packing their carriages, and leaving us with congratulatory goodbyes. Our narrow street was flocked with harbor-bound carriages. The only ones who remained were the representatives, most of their staff leaving ahead of them and would await their arrivals after.
Mr. Astor requested something lavish. On the rooftop with more flowers, something proper, he’d said to the staff. He acted as if our Nest was his, and what was mine was ours.
The contracts were signed, their account managers back home were telegraphed that small advances were to be transferred to a new account, a joint one with mine and Levi’s names on it.
I was to be addressed as part of the Astor household, and whatever household I resided in thereafter, but always to return to him.
A broodmare paid for in blood and gold.
The banquet table was meticulously furnished on the rooftop garden. Florals of wolfbane, larkspur, and lilacs made up deadly arrangements of pale blues and violets. The silverware was polished so thoroughly they were practically mirrors, reflecting any light it could as it waited to be plated.
The trays uncovered to reveal steak, thinly sliced. The pink myoglobin dripped across the silver, giving a rosy-colored film to my reflection.
“No, not for her,” one of the staff scolded the other, taking it away as soon as it was uncovered.
“Don’t worry, I saved something else for you,” Levi assured me, before a glass of black wine was placed in front of me. “She wouldn’t have wanted you to waste it.”
I stared into it, not willing to even breathe around it if it meant it would invoke a memory of her. It was blasphemous, wrong, to think of her now. Reduced to a glass. To food. As I once was.
Levi took up one end of the table. The Russian representative, Ilya, was to my right, one of Luka’s acquaintances, as I understood. We shared a glance. At the very least, he looked a bit stung by the callous gesture before he continued to eat.
They were feeling generous, a bit cocky. I could tell, because they invited Elijah to the meal as well, despite his less than enthusiastic presence.
Such light conversations seemed so morbid in such a situation. But I supposed it was only that way to me; this was a great deal for everyone else.
As my eyes skimmed along the illustrious table, there was only a single thing present that I wanted.
Opposite his father, Silas was positioned at the other end of the table.
Two men of the same blood in unmovable positions.
Those cold dead eyes did not leave his father. The plate in front of him would sooner catch flies before he tore his gaze from him. Yet his breathing was calm, even. Waiting.
“I’m so grateful that Alina was so receptive to the idea. That’s the trick, working with what you have.” Levi took my hand, the grip tight to pull me from looking at Silas too long.
“Should we call the species something new?” the Italian Sire suggested.
“Vipera astora.” The German Sire pointed his fork before slicing back into the steak.
“After me?” Levi pretended to be flattered.
“It is your design, after all.” The sickly words could give them cavities with the way they were sweetening him up.
“What do you think?” Levi turned to me.
I didn’t answer.
“Come now, you like these things, don’t you?” He pressed. His expression smug enough to know I shouldn’t answer honestly or plainly.
“She will learn to be grateful,” one of the others said, though I did not recognize him or remember which country he was serving for.
They were all just men to me.
“Is she always like this?” Levi called across the table to Silas. “I thought she came fully trained?”
Hearty laughs erupted like a wave as they heard his japes.
Silas’s jaw was so tight I thought a tooth may crack, or several.
Even Luka, who stood on the perimeter behind him, looked about as worn with the conversation as Silas. A small bit of blood dripped from his blinded eye, the only outward expression he could make without it being obvious how he felt.
Patience.
The wine cart arrived with Amelia, a dazzling bronze frame with glass shelves. The bottles were chilled in a tub, as it was no ordinary wine.
Bloodwine. A celebratory nonnegotiable.
And I was expected to toast to my misery as well.
Amelia began to pour, lining the glasses on the serving table.
“Luka!” Levi called out. “You should do the honors.”
I could feel eyes on me.
“As a precaution,” he said, “I hope you can understand.”
Luka broke his broody expression to smile. “Of course,” he said tensely, moving over to the table.
Amelia poured straight from the bottle, handing him the glass.
Everyone watched as he inspected the wine, tipping it to his nose to read the notes before he glanced at me over the rim of the glass.
I only stared.
He took a gulp, then another, and finished it there.
He wiped a bit from the corner of his lip, the last of it wiped on his tongue before he raised the empty glass in a faux toast, placing it back in Amelia’s hands. Luka walked back to his spot on the perimeter, placing himself with his hands clasped in front of him.
With the poisoning speculation extinguished, it was like they were relieved they could celebrate again.
They passed out the wine, and Levi continued as if he never stopped talking in the first place.
“I hope you’ll be more appreciative of the luxuries afforded to you.
” Levi sawed into his steak, closing his eyes when it met his tongue.
He nodded his head as he chewed, as if tasting some culinary marvel.
“But I suppose you are your mother’s daughter. ”
“You didn’t know my mother.” I twisted the stem of my glass. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak of her.”
He only laughed at me.
“Is that what you think?” he chuckled, wiping his mouth with the napkin before tucking it back on his lap. “You wear the same ring she did, and you think I didn’t know her enough to speak of her?”
His expression did not seem joking. I stared down at the posey band on my finger.
My mother’s, and all those who came after.
“She died during childbirth,” I said sternly.
“She did.” He smiled wide, glancing at the others as if to say watch this. “Toxemia of pregnancy. Twice.”
“Twice?” I asked sharply, all preplanned responses leaving my brain as it raced.
“I want to be clear, your father was truly quite sweet.” He seemed amused with himself. “But he was far too naive. Just like the rest of them. Pathetically easy, if you ask me. All you have to do is dangle a new species before their eyes and they give in to your every word.”
“What did you do?” I raised my voice.
“Collect yourself, woman, all I did was make a suggestion.” He leaned forward as if speaking to a child.
“Your father was much like you. Thinking the Vipera could be a key resource for many advancements. Including those with your mother’s condition.
We used each other fabulously. He got to play with his little cures, and he helped bless me with the gift of children. ”
His voice was beginning to go in and out.
Wine was placed before all of them. He took a moment to raise his glass. “A toast to Alina. And a special tribute to my son, for his sacrifice, and for being so understanding.” If Levi’s smirk grew any wider, his gold fangs would blind me from the light reflections.
They all drank. So easily, so happily. These deranged men were so desensitized to getting what they wanted that they couldn’t be bothered with correcting such distasteful jabs.
“Your mother being the last one to wear that ring makes this arrangement quite romantic,” he laughed.
My face fell.
The last one.
My eyes fell to my own untouched glass.
“I was quite happy you and Phoebe got along so well, even without knowing. I suppose blood recognizes blood. Sharing the same mother is such a special bond, isn’t it?”
He addressed the rest of them as if he was on a stage running jokes. “I think they call them Irish twins, you would think the mother would have been luckier.”
“Bastard!” I lunged at him, my hands on his throat.
The table clattered, the wine spilling and flatware chiming.
He pulled me onto his lap instead of pushing me away. He hissed at me, baring his fangs, and I did so back. I couldn’t stop it.
“You killed her,” I screamed. “You killed my mother!”
“I killed her neither time,” he choked. “You did. I suggested we ease her pain with venom, but there was no stopping it.”
“And yet you used her after.” I forced the words through my teeth. “You let my father believe she was dead! Only to force her into something worse, you devil!”
“It wasn’t my fault he assumed Vipera could only be born, not turned,” he laughed. “Short-sighted, you people.”
Everything was falling together.
The way Levi used us. All of us.
My mother’s suffering prolonged for selfish desires for kin and expected to be my burden next.
Both my father and I falling victim to the ignorance of how deep these monsters were rooted in our society, our lives.
They could do all they pleased with no recourse, because nobody knows better than them—as long as they had money, they would never taste even a lick of consequence.
And finally, a half-sister. The last piece of my family . . . only to have consumed her.
“It takes longer if consumed rather than injected,” I said quietly.
Levi’s brows furrowed.
“The venom,” I said, my eyes unblinking, making sure I saw every reaction, “it takes slightly longer to metabolize.”
His neck moved stiffly as he looked around the table.
Everyone was limp, eyes open, slouched or tipped back in their chairs. Their chests moved up and down.
Luka slumped against the banister of the roof. He would be fine.
I couldn’t say the same for the others.
Silas lit his cigarette, taking his time inhaling half of it before tapping the ash in his full wineglass. Then he pushed his seat back, reaching down.
He used the chair to step up onto the table, pulling the rifle from a half to full-cocked position.
They couldn’t do anything.
Nothing at all.
Amelia locked the bolt on the exit in case anyone regained their movement.
The Russian representative sighed, standing from his seat. “I’ll move him,” he said, as he walked back to Luka, dragging him away from the edge and up into a patio seat.
Elijah stood from the table and joined Amelia off to the side.
Silas stepped on the plates, tipping wineglasses as he jaunted. The cigarette hung loose on his lips as he pointed the rifle down at one of the representatives slumped onto the table. You could see eyes moving in panic.
Bang!
He didn’t have to step much farther to do the next one.
Bang!
The shots were harsh, especially when the sound slapped against the neighboring buildings and back at our own ears.
One by one, Silas took care to blow each head like a carnival game.
Levi’s nostrils flared in anger. “You freak,” he hissed, “do you know what you’re doing?”
Amelia collected their cards from the bodies, tucking each one in her apron as shots continued to go off.
I touched his cheek gently, but he reached up, tensely, to grab my hair. His movements were stiff, his position frozen in place. Even as he reached up to grab me, his elbow didn’t change its angle. Even as he spoke, his jaw stiffened his words.
“You can’t kill me,” he hissed. “My bones are so thick not even a shot to the head will kill me.”
“I know,” I said softly, pulling a syringe from my sleeve.
“The paralysis won’t last.”
“I know,” I repeated sweetly, gripping the cylinder of the syringe with both hands. “I have another plan for you.” I finished, stabbing the needle into his chest, injecting my own concentrated venom into his chest.
He tried pulling my hair again, and I sank my fangs into his arm.
Within moments, his grip could no longer hold. All he could do was hiss and spit in anger.
Amelia, Elijah, and Ilya began dragging the chairs with their respective bodies toward the edge of the building. Together, they hoisted them over.
I couldn’t be more proud of the coordination, even if some of the players were late in joining the plan.
“You’ll join them, since it’s only fair for such esteemed partners to get fair treatment.” I smiled, slipping from his lap and placing a hand on each arm of the chair.
The legs of the seat scraped across the tiles. All he could do was watch.
Finally, the back of the chair hit the banister.
There was shouting down below.
John hobbled on a crutch, directing the construction workers spinning the concrete mixer and pouring into place. The entire flat area had the initial pour down with more on the way.
Sidney walked across the packed gravel, dragging the fallen bodies to neat spots for an even pour. Mary staked each body for good measure at the abdomen and neck.
“I knew killing you was far too ambitious of a solution,” I explained, leaning down to eye level. “This will surely be more painful.”
He tried to bare his fangs, but his face was barely able to move.
“The concrete will harden around you and leech every bit of water from your body and bones, and we will pour extra thick, since we don’t have much use for a particularly tall cellar,” I said.
His breathing was deep to make up for the lack of mobility in all parts of his body. He didn’t seem very hurt. But that was because I saved the best for last.
“My name is now tied to all your accounts. The money you tried to throw at me became my way in. Now all your money, across all the offending Nests, will be redistributed.”
His eyes widened.
“My advances will go to the Hosts. Your names? Wiped from the ledger. Your homes? Used freely by the public or however the Hosts see fit. The rest? The hoard? Donated freely to the public—and not one thing will be in your name.”
I thought his eyes would pop from his head. The anger was strong enough to make him squirm.
“You will forever be walked upon, the literal pavement under our shoes, for as long as you are still conscious under there,” I whispered. “Your legacy will die with you.”
Silas placed his hand over mine, taking a grip on one side of the chair.
“Anything to say?” I looked at him.
Silas took the cigarette from his mouth, placing it in his father’s before slapping his cheek. “Lift on three?”
With two pulses and a lift, the chair tipped over the edge and the body fell. A dull thud as the grave absorbed the impact.
Levi didn’t stop his stare. The bodies were arranged around him neatly. They stripped them of their clothes, their shoes, their finery—forcing such unnatural things to return to the ground in the most man-made way we could.
Mary staked him right there, one extra in the chest for good measure.
The last we saw of him was as the concrete poured, caressing the bodies until engulfing the face. One last view of a piercing blue eye, then nothing but gray as it went from luster to dull in the coming hours.