Page 90 of Wolfsbane Hall
“Instead, he drowns himself in pleasures like drugs, boundless girls, and you…” The implication was that Celestine was fucking him. But she never had.
“Tonight is the first time I have ever even kissed Everett, and that is only because I was playing his long-lost murdered love.”
Babette scoffed. “But you throw yourself all over him.” Ah, and this was the actual reason why Babette hated her. “You’re saying you’ve never fucked him?”
It was an offensive way of asking, but Celestine chose to ignore the insult. “It’s my job to be desirable, and the only Ashbrook I’ve fucked is James.”
“They’re not all for your job,” Babette said, “James is your lover—”
Celestine sat up to look at the other woman. “James and I have fun together. We both make good distractions. It’s not any more than that.”
“And Dean?”
God, Celestine didn’t even know what Dean was to her. The love of her life? The end of it? He was the one she wanted with every ounce of her being, and the one she also wanted to murder with her own hands. If she were to strangle someone in real life, it would be him, but she’d never be successful. He was a wall of muscle. It would be like a mouse trying to crush a cat.
Dean Ashbrook was too much to put into words.
“He’s…” she started, but nothing else came out. “He’s my ruination.”
Babette laughed. The sound was meek but filled with thick understanding. “That makes sense.” She let out a huff. “You know, I always wished to be you.”
“And I always wished we could be friends. You seemed so beautiful and fun. It was my deepest desire for a long time. And then…”
“And then?”
Celestine snorted. “You were wretched.”
“I was.” Her brown eyes were nearly black in the flickering ofcandlelight.
Celestine swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Then I stopped wanting to be your friend.”
Babette placed Everett’s head softly on the floor then shifted to sit up straighter, her eyes flicking to Celestine. “Do you still want to be my friend?”
Celestine traced the marble pattern with a finger. “Sadly, yes. I want impossible relationships.”
“Then maybe we should try.” Babette’s voice was quiet and tentative.
“Truly?”
“Yes.”
A piece inside Celestine’s heart clicked into place. “Alright. We can try while I am still around.” She rubbed her chest again, another shot of pain rushing through her system. “But I don’t think I’ll be here very long.”
“You’re leaving?” Babette’s chestnut locks bounced as she cocked her head and examined the other woman.
“I can’t stay here much longer.”
Celestine felt as though she was swathed in sorrow, every regret she had ever had playing in her mind. Her eyes focused on the gilded pillars holding up the elaborate ballroom. Everything about the house was stunning and foul, and butterflies of grief stormed through her veins. Leaving was never easy. Change was a cage. Humans often disliked change because they valued stability and safety.
Change never felt that safe, at least not at first.
“We could start by solving this show,” Celestine said.
Babette nodded. “Let’s find the Specter.”
“So, what do you have?”
“The evidence points to four and a half suspects for the show, but I know they all didn’t do it.” Babette’s eyes landed once more on Everett.
