Chapter 20
Quoth
That bastard.
That utter bastard.
My throat is tight. I try to croak at Morrie, but I can’t force air through my windpipe. I flap my wings, but of course the rotten villain doesn’t even notice.
Maybe you’re not angry at him, an annoying voice that sounds an awful lot like my own admonishes me. Maybe you’re jealous because you just watched him make Mina come so hard her legs stopped working and you wish…
Shut up. I’m mad at him. Look at Mina. She’s upset, and he hasn’t even noticed.
Morrie jiggles my cage in one hand and Mina’s arm in the other as he rushes us down the street. “We shall be late if we don’t hurry.”
He hasn’t even noticed that Mina has brick dust down the back of her favourite jacket or that she’s freaking out.
Her thoughts invade mine, overriding my own until all I hear is her shame and guilt.
What am I thinking? This isn’t me, being finger-fucked up against a wall in broad daylight where anyone could see. I can’t let this happen again, not with him. That’s James Moriarty. He’s not just any criminal; he is the criminal. He should be reprehensible to me, not irresistible.
And I hate Morrie in that moment more than I’ve hated anyone in my life.
I hate him because she wants him, because her desire for him scents the air with sweetness, and I never had a chance, and he can’t even see that she’s upset.
I hate him because it’s going to be me who has to pick up the pieces after he grows tired of her, and I hate myself because I want to be Mina’s friend.
I want to be happy that she’s happy, but I can’t, I can’t, because I want more.
Why do I have to yearn?
As Morrie whistles and pushes his way through crowds of tourists, Mina’s thoughts switch to Heathcliff, and then to me.
She feels like she betrayed us, and… I can’t bear to hope what that could mean.
She frets that she’s never made a promise to any of us, but she thinks about the tension filling every shadowy corner of Nevermore Bookshop.
I didn’t know she felt it, too.
I strain harder, unable to stop myself from listening as her thoughts spiral. I croak at her, trying to get her to calm down before we get to Holly Santiago’s studio, but Morrie jerks to a stop and she crashes into him. I’m thrown through the air as Morrie lets go of my cage to catch Mina.
OOOF.
The cage hits the cobbles, HARD. My head slams into the perch as I roll into the gutter.
“Croak, croak!” I shake a wing at Morrie, but he’s distracted.
You bastard, watch where you’re going!
“Throwing yourself at me already, gorgeous?” Morrie’s teeth scrape against Mina’s earlobe, and all Mina’s doubts and guilt disintegrate inside my head. “Alas, but we must get to business.”
I.
Hate.
You.
Morrie points to the shop in front of us – Holly Santiago’s boutique. Morrie picks up my cage and makes for the door, but Mina stops in her tracks, arrested by the outfits in the window. Her mind whirs with ideas and dreams.
“I want it.” Mina presses her nose to the glass, drooling over a long-sleeved t-shirt decorated with occult symbols.
Me too. Look at all the shinies!
I love shinies.
“Eyes on the prize, gorgeous.” Morrie’s hand closes around her arm. “You too, birdie. You’d both make terrible crooks. Too easily distracted.”
“Good. I don’t want to be a crook.”
“Then follow my lead inside. I may have to spin some fast lies.”
Mina shakes her head. “You follow my lead. I know this world. I have a plan.”
“I have a plan,” Morrie shoots back.
“Mine is better.” Mina whips a pair of knock-off Gucci sunglasses from her purse and slides them up her nose. I croak in appreciation. I adore this side of Mina. I fully believe she can do this without resorting to Morrie’s nefarious tricks.
Morrie holds open the door for her, then juggles my now dented cage through behind him. A shop assistant glances up from the counter and heads toward us in a cloud of perfume.
“I have an appointment with Ms Santiago,” Mina tells her, nose in the air. “Jane Eyre, on behalf of Marcus Ribald.”
Jane Eyre, I chuckle. Good one, Mina.
Thankfully, the assistant doesn’t appear to be a reader and registers nothing unusual about Mina’s alias.
She checks the appointment book on her tablet.
“Right this way.” She ushers us to a spiral staircase at the rear of the boutique.
I catch her studying Mina’s face, trying to figure out what season of Love Island she was on.
Upstairs, the studio spreads out across the entire floor – an open plan space containing desks, a photography set-up, sewing machines, boxes of fabric and trims and supplies, and racks and racks of clothes.
Mina peers around, entranced. I can see her working in a place like this all of her own, can see the desire flicker across her features before it’s replaced by sadness.
I flap my wings uselessly inside my mangled cage, wishing I could tell her that she doesn’t have to endure this alone, that I know what it’s like to want things you can’t have.
“Ah, Ms Eyre. It’s so lovely to meet you.”
Holly Santiago appears from nowhere, every black hair on her head perfectly in place as she air-kisses Mina’s and Morrie’s cheeks before frowning at my cage.
Her blood-red nails taper into talons, which dig into Mina’s shoulder as she pulls away.
Over Mina’s shoulder, I see the same kind of hunger in Holly’s eyes.
As far as Holly knows, Mina represents Marcus Ribald, which means that Holly thinks she’s got away with this and that Marcus wants to work with her.
“Holly, it’s a pleasure.” Mina gestures to a plush leather sofa and pouffe in the corner, under a floor-length window that looks down over a busy street. “Shall we?”
“Yes, of course. That’s an interesting bird.
” Holly pokes a talon into my cage. I croak back at her while scooting to the other side.
I hate this stupid cage. I wish they’d let me out.
Suddenly, I don’t like this plan. I don’t know what Holly will do when Mina confronts her.
My feathers itch, and I can feel a nervous shift coming on.
If I shift in this cage, things will be bad.
I shove the corner of my wing through the cage and start trying to work open the latch.
“We’re just taking him for a walk around London.” Morrie sets my cage on the floor beside him. His fingers reach down and unlock the latch.
Yesss, thank you.
He may be a villain, but he understands me better than anyone else.
Holly opens her mouth, ready to say something more, but Mina shoots her a look that is pure Morrie (he’s definitely corrupted her), and she remains silent.
“We are alone?” Mina demands.
“I’ve dismissed my assistant and briefly closed the boutique, as you suggested. I must admit, I’m intrigued. Why would Marcus Ribald want to talk to me, and so clandestinely? I’m open to a collaboration—”
“Oh, I’m not here on Marcus’ behalf.” Mina draws out one of the sketches Ashley had from her purse and lays it out on the coffee table.
Holly gasps. Even Morrie flinches. I guess he didn’t know this was her plan.
“This…” Holly recoils from the picture, her eyes flickering over the lines of Marcus’ ballgown sketch. “This is from Marcus’ upcoming collection. It hasn’t been released yet.”
“But of course.” Mina smiles at Holly, but her smile is cold, calculating. “It wouldn’t be much use to you if he’d already previewed it. The price is the same as before, but that offer is good today only, provided the remainder of your debt is paid. Once I leave this building, it doubles.”
My panic rises. I try to call to her in my mind. Mina, I’m not sure this is a good idea.
My left foot starts growing toes. I manage to shove back my shift, transforming them back into talons before anyone notices. But I don’t know how much longer I can stay shifted. I shove my wing against the door, but it’s dented shut.
“What are you talking about? Why are you showing me this?” Holly’s red nails dig into the sofa fabric.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Holly.
I know you’ve dealt with another girl during your last transaction, and I know you killed her to get out of your end of the bargain.
That was a mistake. I’m in charge now. Even though you left this drawing behind in the bookshop, your agent saw it, probably photographed it.
You have what you wanted, and yet I am without payment.
My associate and I have come to collect. ”
“This is an outrage!” Holly screeches, shoving the drawing back across the coffee table so hard it flies off the end. “I’ve never seen this drawing before in my life! What girl are you talking about? What bargain?”
“I’d control my temper if I were you, Holly.” Morrie’s voice takes on a singsong tone that’s profoundly menacing. “We wouldn’t want this situation to escalate.”
“Croak,” I add from my perch as I shove at the door with my beak. It pops open an inch before getting stuck again.
Come on. Morrie, a little help, please?
“You can sit on this and oscillate.” Holly flashes him a perfectly manicured middle finger as she scrambles around the back of the sofa.
“I don’t know what you two are doing here, but I’ll be reporting you to Marcus and the Fashion Group, of which I am a member.
Of course I don’t want his drawings. I’m not going to steal his designs. I have plenty of my own.”
“I know that’s not true,” Mina hisses. “You got away with it once before, in your Winter collection. The crimson coat with the Persian embroidery, or have you forgotten?”
Holly flips her sleek black hair over her shoulder.
“Yeah, I admit it. I based my jacket off his design, but I didn’t even know it belonged to Marcus.
I attended an appallingly dull gala dinner celebrating Marcus’ so-called genius.
I left before dessert because I couldn’t stand the stench of a ballroom filled with sycophants.
As I descended the steps to meet my cab, a sheet of paper flew up and grazed my ankle.
I picked it up, and there was a drawing of an embroidered coat.
It was quite good. I balled it up and tossed it out the window of the taxi, but the idea stayed with me, and later it ended up part of my collection, but it wasn’t an exact copy by any means.
I didn’t deliberately steal it from Marcus.
He shouldn’t be so clumsy as to leave his designs fluttering around on the street! ”
Mina snorts. “I find this story highly improbable. Do you really believe it will hold up in court if we turn you over to the police? A woman was murdered, Holly. You’ll go down for it unless you give me what I want.”
“Croak!” The door is really stuck. And my wings are starting to turn into fingers.
Oh no no no no.
“You want me to pay you money for a drawing I don’t want, and admit to murdering someone I didn’t even know? When did this murder happen?”
“Two nights ago, around nine, in a bookshop in Argleton,” Morrie says. Neither of them is paying any attention to me.
I hurl my body at the cage, tipping it onto its side, the door facing towards the floor. I hop on top and start jumping on it.
Holly backs across the room, her cheeks reddening. “I didn’t murder anyone in a bookshop, and I can prove it.”
And then a lot of stuff happens at once.
Holly and Morrie both lunge for her desk.
The cage door pops free. I dive out just as my wings grow into arms and my legs elongate and my bones snap into new, painful, human shapes. My skin burns from the inside out as my feathers retract, and my face contorts into a new, beakless shape.
I crash into the desk, sending Holly sailing into a rack of clothes and knocking something off the end that Morrie picks up. Holly’s phone.
“What the hell is going on?” Holly tries to disentangle herself. Dresses and jackets fly in all directions. “Where did that naked guy come from?”
I curl up into a ball, bracing myself for the police and spending the rest of my life in a cell or a research lab, but then Mina says in that powerful, haughty voice she’s been using with Holly, “He’s with us.
He just prevented you from making a very stupid mistake.
Now, we’ll be taking this phone, just to make sure you don’t call the police. ”
“I wasn’t calling anyone. I have photos on my Instagram that prove I’m innocent!” Holly tosses a jacket at me. I shrug it on and start hunting through the pile for some trousers. The jacket is actually really nice. I like the satin lining. “It’s all there. Just take a look. Please.”
Morrie is already flicking through the phone. “Look at this, gorgeous.” He holds up the screen, scrolling through Holly’s Instagram feed. Sure enough, there’s Holly with five other women – including the assistant downstairs – clinking Champagne glasses under the Eiffel Tower.
“Even if I’d wanted to kill someone, which I don’t, I couldn’t have done it because I’ve been in Paris for the last week – I gave my staff the trip to say thank you for all their hard work this year. We got back yesterday, and I have the hotel receipts and plane tickets to prove it.”
“You could have hired someone to do it,” Mina shoots back. “It’s a convenient alibi.”
“Everyone I would trust to do it was on that trip with me.” Holly’s eyes blaze. “So you can take your accusations and your stolen drawings and your weird naked friend and shove them up your twat. Now, get out!”