Page 177 of House of Roots and Ruin
I opened my mouth, about to tell him of Dauphine’s meddling. I wanted to shout her deception from the rooftop but stopped short. She’d committed terrible acts but had done so to thwart a madman. Spilling her secrets now wouldn’t bring the women back; it wouldn’t undo Gerard’s crimes. Some secrets ought to be taken to the grave.
“That’s why it was so important to find the right partner for Alexander,” Gerard continued. “It’s paramounthisgenes continue on, paired with someone equally special. Someone who has the strength to carry the new gods, to birth them, to raisethem to their destinies. When your sister told Dauphine the story of the cursed Thaumas sisters, I knew you were the right girl for Alexander.”
I felt the weight of everyone’s eyes fall upon me.
The room felt so dry, the fire scorching and bright. It was almost impossible to think straight. “We’re not going to have anything to do with this perversity,” I spat at Gerard. “Alex, come on. We’re leaving.”
His eyes were watery and so heartbreaking. “I…I don’t know what to do. This is all…so much. Too much. I…”
“We’ll go away. Get away,” I promised him, cupping his cheeks, trying to make him look at me. “We can sort through it all later. But first we have to get out of here. Get away from him. From Chauntilalie.”
“And them?” he asked, glancing toward his brothers.
“And us?” Viktor echoed, peering at me with a smirk.
“Do whatever it is you want. Drag him to the authorities, turn him in. Take the house for yourself. It’s all yours. Alex, we’re done here.”
“No,” he protested, tugging me back. “I’m not running away.”
“Please. We need to go. I need to go. I just need…I need some water.” I was gasping now, panting like a dog on an insufferable summer day. Rivulets of sweat dripped down my neck, soaking my bodice. My head felt too heavy to hold up.
Gerard removed his cravat and unfastened the top buttons of his shirt. His face was flushed and blotchy. “Itistoo hot in here.” He glanced at Viktor, his eyes unfocused and listless. “You. You’re doing this.”
“Doing what?” he asked innocently.
Visible waves of heat radiated off his body.
“You see,” Gerard said, fanning himself as he panted. “You see now. I should have…should have never have…” His hand fell heavily on the table, reaching for the rose-gold letter opener in the tray before him.
“Julien, do it, now!” Viktor ordered, his voice cutting through the swirling, sweltering confusion.
A light dawned in the oldest Laurent brother’s eyes. He leaned over Gerard, peering down like a stone gargoyle, Viktor’s rage etched across his face.
With a quick motion, he grabbed the back of Gerard’s head and slammed it forward, cracking his skull against the polished edge of the desk.
Gerard’s forehead split down the center like a melon grown too big and too soft.
“Father!” Alex said, lunging his chair toward the desk before Viktor sprang into action, pulling him back. They tussled for a moment, and I feared the wheelchair would topple.
Gerard fixed his gaze—now cross-eyed—upon me. “Get my son out of here,” he pleaded, before Julien struck again.
I turned away, screwing my eyes shut, powerless to stop the burst of violence.
But I still heard the sounds.
The sharp smacks of bloodied flesh.
Julien’s grunts of exertion.
Alex’s raspy breaths of horror.
Finally, the dull thud of a body falling to the floor.
Then, silence.
Silence wide and yawning.
Silence so big it felt as if we’d been swallowed into its void.
