Page 69 of The Secret of the Three Fates
The temperature continued to drop—cold enough I could see my breath coming out in clouds before my face.
Lady Amelia whimpered.
Agreed, Lady Amelia.
“Tears of the mother bring the daughter’s rage, and you thinkyoucan help them, Ruby Vaughn?” The strange voice let out a shrill laugh. “Youthinkyoucan help, when you do not even know what you are?”
I hazarded a glance to Hecate, whose knuckles had grown white wrapped around the hazel rod. Hecate silently pleaded for me to move back to restore the circle.
This was bad.
Very bad.
Genevieve’s left arm rose as she pointed at the center of mychest. My breath would not leave my lungs. We were trapped there, she and I in some sort of spiritual détente.
Until she screamed.
In that very instant the window shattered, spraying me with shards of broken glass, which fell to the ground like piercing rain and along with them tumbled the lifeless body of Genevieve Demidov.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINEA Feint… of Sorts
ITwas hard to say who reached the medium’s side first, Ruan or Andrew Lennox. Andrew hastily waved Ruan away with the clipped air of the medical officer he’d once been. He first checked for her pulse, then listened to her breath. Which now flowed easily. A good sign, based on my dim recollections of battlefield triage.
My mind reeled. Had I been attacked by a ghost? It was impossible. Improbable. And yet a slight trickle of warm moisture dripped down my neck. I reached up, pulling my fingers away. Blood.
Ruan’s eyes widened as he looked from my fingers to my throat. He lifted my hair from my neck, quickly inspecting the damage before letting out a soft sigh. “It’s only a scratch.”
His voice was hoarse and uncertain. Likely as discomfited about what he saw as I—a frightening proposition considering he was a Pellar. Demons and spirits were his purview, not mine. Ruan reached out with his left hand, gently dusting the tiny shards of glass from my hair and shoulders.
What had happened?
He shook his head. “I do not know.”
I must have voiced the question, though I didn’t recall the words escaping my lips. “What were you trying to tell me earlier… out the window?”
Ruan leaned closer, his warmth enveloping me at once. “A woman. I saw a woman near the ruins.”
My eyes widened. “Then the séance wasn’t real…”
Ruan’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know.”
“She’s simply fainted,” Andrew said loudly, jerking my attention from the uncertainty clouding Ruan’s expression.
He’d roused Genevieve at last, her eyes were clear, and she rubbed at her temple.
She was alive.
Elijah hurried from wherever he’d been lurking, pushing his way through the curious bodies surrounding Andrew and Genevieve—likely drawn from the commotion. It looked as if a munition had gone off in here. Bits of glass strewn everywhere. Candelabras on the ground, candles fully snuffed.
Elijah stooped down, pulling Genevieve into his arms. The glass crunched beneath his shoes. “Give the poor woman some space.”
Her head lolled against his shoulder as he murmured something into her ear. A far cozier sight than the last time I’d see the two together—back when they were quarreling on the bridge.
Hecate touched me on the shoulder. “I will see to them. Are you well?”
“Yes. Perfectly.” My words came out a whisper as I stared at the broken window that lay motionless against the wall. It certainly seemed real—and yet, it could not have been. Hecate had taken precautions to keep the dead at bay, hadn’t she?
I inched closer to the broken window, carefully avoiding the shards of glass, and stooped down, checking along the edges and behind for a string, a catch—anything to refute the evidence I’d seen with my own eyes. My frantic mind grasping for any bit oflogic to explain what had occurred. Though my back had been to the window when it slammed shut—I could not haveseenanything.
