Page 65 of Poison Ivy
His expression turns serious again. “Ivy, what happened back there? With Walcott?”
I shake my head, still confused myself. “I don’t know. He was already mostly beheaded when I got there. There was a woman, she was there, gorgeous. She vanished in a cloud of purple smoke right before you guys burst in.”
Tate frowns. “That doesn’t make sense. The Syndicate should have known...”
“I know,” I interrupt. “Something’s not right here. But we can figure it out later. Right now, I need to get the hell out of here before?—”
A twig snaps nearby, and we both freeze.
“Tate!” Bram’s voice calls out. “Did you find her?”
Tate’s eyes lock with mine as he gets off me. “Go,” he whispers urgently. “I’ll hold them off.”
I hesitate for a split second, then nod. “Be careful,” I murmur,
As I run, I hear Tate shout back to Bram, “She got away! Heading east!”
I smirk to myself, grateful for his misdirection as I run west. The sounds of pursuit fade as I put more distance between myself and the cottage.
When I’m sure I’m not being followed, I slow down to a jog and then a walk. I need to get back home and figure out what the hell just happened. Who was that woman in the cottage? And why was Walcott already mostly dead when I got there?
As I near the edge of the forest, I shift back to my normal appearance. No need to draw attention by strolling around as a blue-haired bombshell, nor do I want Poison out in the open.
But first things first—I need a shower and some time to process everything that just happened. I step out of the treeline and onto the overgrown pathway, heading for the safety of home as quickly as I can.
33
TORIN
“Fuck!”I snarl, kicking a fallen log in frustration. The blue-haired bitch got away, and we’re no closer to finding Poison. This whole plan has gone to shit. On the plus side, at least Dad seems to be dead. Although, that remains to be seen.
Bram emerges from the trees, looking equally pissed off. “Lost her. She’s cloaked. She’s good, whoever she is, I’ll give her that.”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm the rage building inside me. “This doesn’t make any sense. The Syndicate was supposed to send Poison. Who the fuckwasthat?”
“No idea,” Tate says as he joins us. He looks dishevelled, like he went ten rounds with himself. “But she packed one hell of a punch.”
I eye him suspiciously. It’s not like Tate to get taken down so easily. But then again, none of us were expecting someone other than Poison to show up.
“We need to regroup,” I say finally. “Figure out our next move.”
Bram nods in agreement. “Back home?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “But first, let’s check the cottage again. See if we missed anything.”
We head back to the dilapidated structure. The smell of lavender still lingers in the air, making me wrinkle my nose in disgust.
“Look for anything that might tell us who that woman was,” I order as we spread out to check for clues. I aim for the place where the holy water got me and look around. Chuckling when I see the plug-in, I crouch next to it and flick off the socket. “Wow. She is innovative. Holy water in a plug-in.”
Tate looks over and laughs. “That is genius.”
I give him a death stare, and he shuts his face, going back to searching the cottage.
Frustrated, but not surprised, by the lack of clues, I turn to the pile of ash that was presumably my father. I crouch down, running my fingers through it, feeling nothing but cold emptiness.
“Find anything?” Bram calls from the other room.
“Nothing,” I growl. “Just dust and more fucking questions.”
