Viggo shot him a nasty look, like he’d revealed too much. “Don’t worry about Luc,” Viggo purred, turning back to Cricket. “Pack a bag. You’ll need to stay at the townhouse for a few days. Maybe longer. Things are about to get dangerous in the city. There’s soon to be changes within the Haute. You’ll need my protection.” He took his time putting his hands all over her things, her teapot and candy bowl and the black-cat clock and bright yellow headphones. “You’re so alone out here. What’s it been, four years? Not a lot of time to learn how the world works.” He slowly wound the headphone cords around his palm. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be safe.”
They were too far from the closet for Anouk to make out much. Blurry movement of Viggo setting down the headphones and reaching for Cricket’s shoulders.
“Get your fingers off me,” Cricket hissed.
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry like this, love.”
Anouk squeezed her eyes closed. She hated seeing this. Hated the feel of Hunter Black prowling around, his footsteps so calculated and slow, and hated that possessive note in Viggo’s voice. Love? No, what she was listening to wasn’t love. Viggo wasn’t capable of loving anything, as far as she had seen. Not even his own mother. He must have gone to the townhouse. He must have seen the Mada’s body. And yet here he was, pawing at Cricket while his mother’s blood emptied into the Persian rug. He was probably already planning how he could take over her empire. If Anouk had to guess, that’s what this supposed meeting was about.
Hunter Black’s shadow moved away from the bed. He turned toward the closet.
Beau’s hand squeezed hers, hard, as though he feared being ripped apart.
Chapter 10
Anouk pressed one hand against her mouth, clutched Beau’s hand with the other. Hunter Black was just on the other side of the door. It was so stiflingly hot in the closet. The musty pelts choked her. Fur and particles, their old life, catching in her nose. She couldn’t breathe.
But then Beau’s fingers intertwined with her own. She could hear his breathing, slower than her own and more steady. He inched over the pile of pelts to wrap his arm around her back. He didn’t dare speak.
She leaned her head against his chest.
“I don’t need your protection.” Cricket’s voice in the living room was strained. “I’m not yours. I never will be.”
For Viggo’s whole life, his mother had showered him with gifts from both the Haute and the Pretty World. Fast cars, expensive clothes, tickets to secret places only magic could access. He’d never been denied anything.
Hunter Black’s shadow fell over the frosted glass. Anouk clutched Beau harder, wanting to shelter them both.
Keep us safe, she wished.
Like a coin tossed in a fountain.
Like magic.
She closed her eyes, barely knowing what she was doing. How many times had she been dusting the house and overheard Mada Vittora do a simple diversion whisper? Enough that she could recite the Selentium Vox words in her sleep.
“Omni terra das royale oscura, omni figuras das visine etan absconsia,” she whispered, lips moving quickly. The taste of mint was still fresh on her tongue.
She felt Beau twist to look at her, but she didn’t open her eyes. She knew beasties couldn’t do magic. But neither could Pretties, and look at how beautiful their world was. Look at all the things they had built, the roundabouts and the cafés and the glittering department stores. What was that if not magic?
“Voc, voc eta commandet suma suspirras.” She whispered faster. “Non avis nos . . .”
She heard Hunter Black’s hand on the closet doorknob, then the metal clicking softly as it twisted. The door opened a crack. She felt a terrible rush of air on her face. The smell of Cricket’s tea. The murmur of Viggo whispering declarations of love to Cricket by the sink.
“Non avis nos, non avis nos, spero . . .”
She didn’t stop whispering the words.
Don’t see us.
Don’t see us.
Please.
The door stayed like that, open a crack. And then, just in the moment when she knew Hunter Black would find them, a sharp smack came from the kitchenette. Cricket had slapped Viggo.
Anouk’s eyes flew open.
Hunter Black was across the room in three strides to defend his master. The closet door shut, the frosted glass rattling softly. Closed. Anouk stared at the knob in disbelief.