CHAPTER 42 #2
Emma pictured Jasper’s father, cold eyes scanning a report.
There was her true opponent. Richard had only been his puppet, groomed to violence by a man who had wanted to spare his own heir the dirty work.
He had known how to dole out affection and withdrawal in crumbs, playing Richard against Jasper, until he had molded himself an eager little servant.
Of all the old boys, he was the one she feared most. She would have to be ready for his attack, when it came.
Unaware that he’d dropped a potentially explosive piece of information, Jasper slumped against the wall.
“Then it’s really true? My God, he was my best friend. Kidnapping a girl he knew was my—well, er—my friend, anyway. He saw what hell I was in, with the press coming after me. I can’t believe he would do this to me.”
Nat’s eyes rolled back in his skull. Emma kicked him. Gently.
“And then to kill Hugo? And Julia? It’s fucking strange. But for some reason, that feels more real to me. Which doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes,” Emma said dully. Beside her, Nat’s expression had sunk into leaden lines.
She knew her face held the same misery. Thinking of Julia and Hugo was a grief that would not lighten.
“They figured out that Richard was holding me in the Library. They confronted him. With Nat and Venetia. They rescued me. He stabbed Hugo, then Julia.”
“And those hooligans broke into the Library at the same time?” Jasper shook his head in amazement.
“Just imagine,” Nat said drily.
“God, the damage they did. What kind of scum smash up all that history? But if they hadn’t interrupted Richard when they did, he might have killed us all too. To think I was blackout drunk under a desk, all that time. You know, if I’d been on my feet, I’d have stopped them.”
“Indeed?” Nat was straight-faced.
“Yeah. This has been a wake-up call. I mean, I can’t even figure out why I was in the Library in the first place. It all goes to show, I need to stop drinking so much. Focus on my health.”
“Oh, that’s what all of this goes to show?”
“Totally.” Jasper nodded vigorously, missing the edge in Nat’s tone. “Our trainer for the crew says the same. Actually”—he turned to Emma—“that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
He settled on the bed next to her. “It’s just, there’s such a lot going on. Dad’s devastated about Richard, and there’s so much to get ready for the race, and I’m way out of shape, and this last year was so hard for me. I thought I’d come chat to you about it. You always make me feel better.”
“Jasper, you should talk to someone about all this. But a professional, maybe? I can’t be that person for you,” said Emma. Firmly.
Nat had been right. It suited her.
“Oh.” Jasper sounded disappointed. “I thought you’d enjoy it. It’s just, you’re such a good listener.”
“I am good at a lot of things, Jasper,” she said, levering him from the bed by the simple expedient of pulling the duvet from under him. He startled to his feet like an offended pelican. “Many, many things. And I’m going to ask you to go now.”
Nat steered him from the room under the guise of clapping him cheerfully on the shoulder.
“Emma, you are a wonderful person,” Nat said afterward. “You also have terrible—terrible—taste in men.”
Emma spent the afternoon arranging her treasures.
Her corals and pressed leaves, a carved dolphin her mother had given her.
After some thought, she’d added the photograph she’d taken of a lapwing, that early sun-striped day at the river with Jasper.
It was the best thing she’d ever done with a camera.
A breath of that long-ago Emma hung about it. Her softness. Her wonder.
As evening fell, the new Emma felt a stillness settle over her.
A breeze was blowing from the Meadows. It meandered in through her little attic window, propped open to let in the night air.
She’d moved the desk there so she could look across the waving grass, out to the river and the ancient woods beyond.
The turrets of Gabriel College were darkening in the fading light.
Beyond, the Night City waited. There was still much she did not know.
How to return to the City, if she did not want to be trapped in the mortal world forever.
How to break a contract that had been made centuries ago.
Where her friends were, and how they were. When she would see them again.
And the Turnbulls were still at large. Even now, from their boardrooms and town houses in London, they might be planning a new ceremony.
But there would be no more sacrifices. Whatever it took, whatever the next year brought, she would stop them.
Emma felt the song in her blood quicken. Her hunt was just beginning.
But for now, what she had was this. A circle of lamplight. An empty page. And a book. This was the reason she had come here. To learn. Emma turned the first page of Animal Physiology, 5th ed. Some of the knowledge she sought, at least, was right in front of her. She took a breath, and dove in.