“Didn’t work out that way.”
“No, it didn’t.” He laughed bitterly. “The Oligarchs have a rule about not fighting each other, but they do it all the time. It feels like that’s all we ever do.”
I chewed my cheek, saying nothing. The car drove through downtown and into a sparser neighborhood before parking outside of a beat-up deli with a closed sign on the door.
I didn’t get out. Kaspar didn’t either. He waited for me, patient as a mountain.
“Alice wouldn’t have done it.” I said the words and thought they’d come out with conviction, but instead I heard my own uncertainty, and hated myself for it.
“You don’t know that. Alice wasn’t stable.”
“You barely talked to her. How could you know how stable she was?”
“I learned about her after it happened. I talked to people that worked in Maeve’s household. Alice was troubled, came from trouble. She was destined for violence.”
“Nobody’s destined for what happened to her.” I glared at him and tried not to let my anger overwhelm my good sense. “Calling her troubled is just some weak excuse for murdering her.”
“I saved your life. When I walked into that room, she was standing over you with a knife.” He shoved his jacket aside and pulled out a blade. It was long and sharp and seemed familiar. “This knife, Penny. She was holding it above you and staring at you with tears rolling down her face. She was going to do it.”
“No, she wouldn’t have.” But I stared at the knife: the blade was thick and sharp. It was a tool for killing.
“I’m sorry, Penny. I’m sorry you liked her. I think she liked you, too. But she was too deep in Maeve’s pocket.”
I looked at my hands as he put the knife away and covered it again. I felt so old and tired.
“She was my friend. I don’t have many.”
He moved closer and put a hand on my leg. “I know that. Better than most.”
“Do you?”
“I’m alone. I’ve always been alone. All of us are. We’re born into power and privilege but we’re kept apart and that breaks us, turns us into animal and demons and monsters. I’m broken, Penny. I have been for a long time. I didn’t feel a thing when I killed Alice, only sadness that you’d be mad at me. But here I am, years later, trying to right a wrong.”
“Killing Maeve won’t fix anything.”
“No, it won’t. But it will show the world that nobody can touch you without repercussions.” He moved his hand away.
I wanted him to leave it there.
It was sick. I knew it was wrong. He was a monster, a killer, a freak—he admitted it himself.
But I was a freak, too.
I followed him outside. We went into the deli and toward a group of tables at the back. Kaspar’s men swarmed the place, looking tough in their black combat gear and automatic weapons.
My sister sat in the corner with Chika. She stood as we approached.
I slowed and glared death at Kaspar.
“What the hell is this?” I snapped, already turning back. “I’m not speaking to her.”
“Wait,” he said, grabbing my arm. He pulled me close. His lips pressed against my ear and I shivered, remembering his body in my bed. “She’s not your sister anymore. Forget about your family. This is about revenge for Alice.”
“No, asshole. This isn’t for Alice. This is for you.”
“And her. Maeve got her killed. If she never got sucked into Maeve’s world, if she hadn’t been used as a killer, none of this would’ve happened. Now face your sister with me. I need you.”
I stared at him, rage rolling through me. I hated how he knew what to say to keep me around. I wanted to punish Maeve if it meant getting revenge for Alice. I didn’t give a damn about getting it for myself.
“Fine,” I hissed. “But you’re doing the talking.”
He grinned and kissed my cheek. “I always do.”
I hung back away from the table. Erin barely glanced at me. Chika stared like a sad puppy.
I liked Chika, but she followed my sister now. She was meaningless.
“Why did you drag me out here again, Kaspar?” Erin sounded impatient and short.
Kaspar didn’t look ruffled. “Your brother sent men to back up Maeve’s forces. Did you know about that?”
She made an impatient gesture. “Of course.”
“You didn’t think to tell me?”
“No. It’s a minor detail. Did you get her yet?”
“I have a lead.” He leaned forward, palms on the table. “You’re keeping things from me.”
Erin didn’t respond. She watched him, head tilted to the side. Sometimes my sister reminded me of a lizard. Cold and detached. She licked her lips and glanced at Chika, who only stared down at the table. Perfectly obedient.
“Darren has been making my life difficult,” Erin said. “He monitors my communications. Orders the men to keep me from leaving. It isn’t easy making these meetings.”