Page 89 of Wolfsbane Hall
Within a second of taking his third drink, Everett crumpled into a heap and was clumsily caught by Babette. “Fuck, you’re heavy.”
But he wasn’t the only one who fell. All around them, every Ashbrook fell to the floor.
“Not again,” Walter whined as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.
Dean was the only Ashbrook left standing, because he hadn’t sipped his drink yet. But his gaze tracked between them, and a sinister smile crept onto his face. “To Death.” He held up his glass and gulped it down, his eyes locked on Celestine’s. “Solve the riddle, dearest Celine.”
And he, too, collapsed to the ground.
Babette lowered Everett to the floor and felt for his pulse. When she couldn’t find it, she grew frantic and tried to listen for his breath. But nothing.
“He’s dead. They’re all dead.”
29
Saturday, November 11, 1939
Grand Ballroom
The night was formed from chaos. Had the three Ashbrook brothers just poisoned their entire family? All three of them? Or just Dean? And why drink it himself?
Celestine sucked in a sharp breath and lifted herself weakly to stand vigil over them, but her legs were still jelly. Babette had Everett’s head resting in her lap, and she was whispering a sweet lullaby, but it was unclear if she was whispering it to him or to help keep herself calm.
“Should we assume they are going to stay dead until we solve the show?” Babette asked, stroking Everett’s dead hair.
“I have no idea.” Celestine’s gaze traveled over all of them. Bodies were strewn all throughout the Grand Ballroom, like a child’s discarded toys. “Most of them have already died tonight and come back from the dead.”
“Right.” Babette let out a long-suffering sigh. “So, any ideas?”
“I say we just leave them.”
Babette snorted. “They would deserve it.”
“Yes.” Celestine took three slow steps, but when shecouldn’t make it any further, she sat in the middle of the room and crossed her legs. “I hate them.”
“Sometimes I do, too.”
Celestine was done, both physically and mentally. Her body could barely move anymore, so she stretched out, lay down, and stared at the ornate ceiling. A mural of a lion fighting a wolf was painted in heavy detail. It was unclear which of the two beasts was winning, and it wasn’t just a battle of strength. It was also a battle of wits.
Celestine rubbed her temples. With being so close to the end, the poison was wreaking havoc in her body, and her heart was beating arrhythmically. She placed a hand on her chest, felt it, and counted the beats.
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
But they were too far apart. Her heart was slowing.
Beat.
She was dying.
“So you’re in love with Everett?” Celestine asked, her eyes staring at the sharp canines of the wolf.
“Yes,” Babette said softly. “This kind of feels like the closest I’ve ever been to him.” She combed his hair back lovingly. “But, unlike you, he’ll only ever see me as a friend.”
Celestine slid her fingers along the marble. “I don’t think he likes me like that, nor do I like him that way. I don’t think he allows himself to love anyone after Marguerite.”
