Page 14 of This Ravenous Fate
Tobias Saint’s voice echoed through the hallway from his study despite the closed door.
“A guard was attacked on Saint property. Then there was a murder three blocks away. What am I paying these men for if they are not doing their job?”
When Elise walked in, she expected to see her father still in his dressing gown. But he was fully dressed, his black curls smoothed down, and he had the telephone to his ear.
“Just take care of it,” Mr. Saint snapped. He hung up the phone and turned to face Elise. His brow furrowed. “A reaper was close to the estate last night. Too close.”
Elise nodded. Last night, after Layla had disappeared out the window, Sterling had wrestled the gun from Elise’s hands. She’d wanted to run downstairs and get her father, but Sterling’s eyes wentwide with fear as they both realized he would have to explain to Mr. Saint why he’d been in Elise’s room and not out on patrol.
Then there had been Josi to consider. To Elise’s relief, Josi was unharmed, at least physically. Elise had lain in bed with her until she could fall asleep.
“You’ll keep me safe…” Josi had whispered before she’d drifted off. “Like Charlotte kept you safe.”
The last thing Elise wanted was for Josi to know that her nightmare had been real. And she’d made a pact with Sterling to never tell anyone else what they had seen last night.
Still, she wished there were some way for her father to know that Layla was a threat.
She took a deep breath and set her jaw before speaking. “That reaper… I wonder if it could have been Layla Quinn.”
“Not possible,” Mr. Saint said. “It must have been a rogue. No reaper who knows the Saints would think to trespass.”
“I just have a feeling it was her,” Elise said, her voice trembling. “And that it’s not safe here.”
Mr. Saint stood, his arms folding across his chest while he leaned against his desk.
“This estate is the safest place for anyone in Harlem. In all of New York, actually. We do more than the police by now. I have hundreds of men out there in the city every day, hunting those bastard reapers down—”
“You are not hearing me.” Elise’s voice broke.
Tobias Saint’s shoulders tensed. His eyes, dark and unyielding,roamed over her for a long moment. “I always hear you, Elise. Everything I do is for you and for your sisters and your mother. I must say, it hurts to know you think I don’t know what’s best for you.” Mr. Saint came around his desk so he stood closer to Elise and leaned down. “It wasmyidea to send you to France after that Quinn girl tried to kill you.” Elise flinched, but her father continued, unmoved. “You built a beautiful life and started your career in France because ofme. As far as I’m concerned, the only words out of your mouth should be ‘thank you, Father.’ I saved your life. I couldn’t save Charlotte’s, but I saved you. Be grateful for that,” he said roughly.
Guilt plowed through Elise. She fiddled with the tie of her robe. “I’m grateful, Father. I really am. I only wish that Josi could have the same. Here, she lives in fear. In France, there would be no reapers with resentment toward the Saints; she could dance and be a normal child—”
“Josi is my only chance at continuing our legacy beyond my death since you must return to France for your music career. I cannot have zero heirs.” Mr. Saint went back to his desk and sat, his hands folded in front of him.
Any hope Elise had quickly shattered. She willed her voice to be steady. “Then let me stay here.”
“Excuse me?” Mr. Saint asked.
“I want to stay. I don’t need to go back to France,” Elise said.
Her father looked dubious. “Your career?”
“It’s nothing.” It hurt to say it. Elise remembered the pride that had burst in her when she received her acceptance letter to theconservatory. Now, she stomped the flame of that joy out, leaving only ashes behind.
As if a switch had gone off in her father, Mr. Saint looked away, his body tense. “You are excused, Elise.”
Elise’s throat tightened to the point of pain. She swallowed hard as she nodded, blinking back tears. By the time she returned to her room, her face was wet and her chest heaved with sobs. Josi stirred in bed behind her while Elise pulled a stationery box from her desk and sat down to write a letter to the director of the Paris Conservatory.
In just a few minutes, with the meeting of ink to paper, Elise eliminated her dreams and all that she had worked toward for the past decade. But the tears that fell were not for her ruined future. They were for the future she knew she could give her sister by throwing away her own.
And, for the first time in ages, Elise felt relief.
***
Jamie Kelly swiped a gloved finger down the bloody cheek of a dead man. He glanced up at Layla, blue eyes glinting in the hot sun. “If I take this off your hands, it will cost you.”
“How much?” Layla demanded. The man she had killed the previous night was slumped behind a row of garbage cans. Layla was glad to have Jamie take care of the rest of it for her.
