Chapter Forty-Three
The shot echoed, reverberating off marble. Gunpowder cut through the smell of wood and polish as Verity squeezed her eyes shut. A soft thud, and then Petra’s voice, more lethal than the shot itself.
“Get out of my sight.”
When Verity opened her eyes, Jesse’s face was unreadable. No triumph. No regret. Just the quiet certainty of a job done.
“She tried to kill my brother,” he said, pocketing the gun as he turned and walked out.
Theo moved to follow, still holding Verity’s weight.
“Leave her,” Petra said.
He froze, refusing to set Verity down. The small defiance only seemed to fray Petra’s patience further. She rose from her seat, stepping down and past Vivienne’s slumped body on silent bare feet. She didn’t look at her dead friend. The soft, steady drip of blood, the only sound left in the room.
“Do you know why your brother wrote that ridiculous article?” Petra asked. “I knew it wasn’t yours, it had none of your... panache. He thought the more visible the two of you were, the harder it would be for one of you to simply vanish.” Her eyes slid to Verity. “A point I struggle to argue with.”
Theo lowered Verity onto a bench before Petra settled beside her. Something felt deeply strange about being so close to her. Level, within easy reach. Theo seemed to think so too, hovering beside them with a hand on Verity’s shoulder.
“Go, Theodor,” Petra said. “I shall give her back.”
His hand stayed where it was until Verity turned to him and nodded with a grimace of pain. “Go.”
He sighed, but left, watching over his shoulder until someone closed the door behind him.
The two women were alone.
Verity glanced once at Vivienne’s body and then made herself look away. It felt as though they’d won, and yet she took no joy in it. Winning didn’t mean escaping the consequences of having threatened Petra.
“Few people dare stand up to me. Even indirectly. It can be so terribly frustrating,“ Petra said, almost conversational, eyes drifting back to Vivienne. ”Do you have any idea how difficult it is, being a woman in this world? It was worse, you know. The things done to women that forgot their place, not that they needed an excuse.” Something moved behind her eyes, brief and old and not entirely performance.
“Viv showed promise. We could have ruled it all together. She was that good. For the first few decades at least.”
Verity blinked but said nothing. There was a version of her sentiment that Verity could understand.
An ancient creature born into a different world, a world where a woman in a seat of power would have been insanity.
What had happened to tiny, human Petra, to the vampire since, that made her want to surround herself with women?
If she weren’t so terrifying, Verity’s heart might have ached for her.
It didn’t change the fact that Petra had allowed Vivienne’s scheming and manoeuvring to go unchecked.
“Well, it’s done now, isn’t it?” Petra said, turning her attention fully onto Verity, looking her over slowly. “You’d make quite the vampire.“ Verity’s heart nearly stopped at the implication. ”I’m rather good at it, you know. And you’d outrank Theo if I turned you. Wouldn’t you like that?”
What was this? Replace Vivienne with the closest woman? Verity had no desire to outrank Theo.
“No, thank you,” she said.
Petra looked genuinely startled. “Really? I’ve had very few failures.” She said it as casually as if discussing the weather, as if the offer wouldn’t fundamentally remake, or end, Verity’s entire life.
It struck Verity, somewhere beneath the fear and the pain, how unthinkable it was to weigh something like that now.
Cracked ribs, a twisted arm, a graze on her cheek and a throbbing ache in her leg she couldn’t remember starting.
The adrenaline was draining away, leaving every wound behind it raw.
How could anyone make a decision under these conditions?
She found herself wondering, briefly, how young Petra herself had been when she was turned. Younger than Verity now, surely. Early twenties? Jesse’s age? Had she understood, all those centuries ago, what she was agreeing to? Had she been given a choice?
“I’m grateful,” Verity managed. “Truly. It would be an honour but...”
Petra waved the rest of the sentence away before she could finish it. “Fine. Most would jump at the chance, but if you don’t want it... You are a curious creature.” She studied her for another moment. “So, let us decide your fate.”
Verity thought that was what they’d just done.
“Offering you a gift,” Petra said, “does not mean I have forgiven you.”
Verity nodded. She hadn’t expected forgiveness to come easily.
“How about,” Petra went on, “a little ultimatum of my own?”
Verity didn’t like the sound of that.
“You may leave Havenshire,” Petra said, one hand extended, palm up. “You and Theo, gone. Do whatever you like, far away from me.” Whatever kindness Verity might have briefly mistaken in the offer evaporated the instant Petra continued. “Or, you prove your loyalty to me, and go to Cliffhaven.”
A rock and a hard place if Verity had ever heard one.
Petra glanced toward the body of her friend. “I find myself short of someone competent to fix the situation there. Someone who already understands the issue at hand.”
It made a strange kind of sense, Verity realised, even if she hadn’t expected to be the one asked.
“Both of us?” she asked, voice hoarse. “Me and Theo, together?”
Petra nodded. “You’ve declared your love to the entire world now, have you not? It would hardly be fair of me to tear you apart.”
It wasn’t a reward, but it didn’t feel like a punishment either. Petra’s voice held no anger as she laid the choice out, just the plain shape of it. Take it or leave it.
It felt unfair to be the one answering for both of them when this would change Theo’s life as much as her own but she supposed most people would have asked Theo instead, disregarding what she wanted.
Verity didn’t know if Petra gave her the choice out of respect, feminism or plain old curiosity.
The reason didn’t matter, she knew what Theo would want, and it was the same thing she did.
She knew how much he loved this city, cared for his citizens, and, deep down, how ready he was for something new.
They had found the truth of Cliffhaven together, and they would fix it together too.
She took her time answering. Petra didn’t rush her, simply watching the rise and fall of her chest, or perhaps her pulse. Verity couldn’t tell which, and would normally have been creeped out by her intense stare, but found she was too tired to care.
“We’ll go to Cliffhaven,” Verity said. “Me and Theo. We’ll fix it.”
“Marvellous,” Petra said, without smiling. She stood, raised one hand as if to pat Verity on the head, seemed to reconsider, and settled for an awkward tap on her shoulder instead, the way someone might pat a dog they weren’t quite sure how to handle, and walked out without another word.