In the week following the Saint massacre, all Elise could do was read Josi’s old letters over and over.
Elise blinked back tears at the thought of her little sister lost and afraid.
“Why do you torture yourself like this?” Layla asked. She leaned against Elise’s desk, flipping the envelope in her restless fingers.
“I can’t help it. My mother is busy running the house with my father in the hospital, so I have nothing to do but mope,” Elise said. The Saint estate felt especially empty with far fewer associates milling around. And with Sterling having moved out, the distance between Elise and him only grew every day, no matter how much she hoped for him to come to his senses and see her side.
Layla laid a gentle hand on her arm. Elise was grateful to have her back in her life, even if it meant things got more complicated while settling reaper-Saint affairs.
Elise bit her lip, still staring down at the letter. “It makes me sick, thinking my father, or Valeriya made her write those fake letters to me. I thought she was safe, with everything she needed.”
Layla lifted a brow. “She didn’t have you.”
Sighing, Elise turned her focus to Layla. “She could. When I find her, I want to go to France and never look back.”
“Hmmm…” Layla looked away.
Elise cleared her throat playfully. “Paris has some incredible research underway for reaper cures. You should come see them for yourself.”
“You know I wouldn’t only follow you to France for a cure, right?” Layla asked. She pushed off against the desk and stood behind Elise, draping her arms around her shoulders.
Elise nodded. “I know. Speaking of cures…” She spread the rest of the post across her desk, her throat going dry when she saw the newspaper headline:
THE DAWN OF A NEW AMERICA: HOW ONE MAN WILL RESTORE THIS NATION’S WONDERFUL FOUNDATION.
Layla narrowed her eyes. “Are they talking about this America? Because when has it ever been wonderful?” She turned the page and laughed. “Oh, look, they talked about how pitiful Stephen Wayne looked when he got out of the hospital. He even said that Tobias Saint is weak and not to be trusted.”
Elise hissed. “My father will hate that.”
Turning the page again, Layla glared. “How is England calling the United States the ‘root of all things abominable’? Are they not the kettle?”
Elise blinked. “The what?”
“The kettle? Calling the pot black. Oh, this is even more sick and twisted than I previously imagined,” Layla muttered.
Soft laughter escaped Elise. She pulled the newspaper away from Layla and sighed. “You’re so funny, love,” she said warmly.
Layla’s eyes brightened. “Am I? That’s fine.” She jabbed her finger into the papers and hissed. “This is not fine. This man will start another world war.”
Elise groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Arendale will be mayor soon. Since people found out about his desire to weaponize Stephen’s poison, they’ve only endorsed him more. With him as mayor, it won’t just be humans against reapers soon, it will be his reapers turned weapons against the whole world.”
“What if we used these other countries’ animosity to our advantage? If they had the evidence behind Stephen Wayne’s plans, they would have to do something to stop them.”
“It’s a start. Thalia had contacts in Europe because her mother is still there. I could publicize her research and Stephen Wayne’s crimes.” Elise nodded. She pulled the notebooks Layla had retrieved from Thalia’s office in the lab days ago and let out a shaky breath before meeting Layla’s eyes. Her heart stumbled through its rhythm when she saw the concern in them, the usual brightness replaced by a dark despair. “I need to do this right.”
A gentle smile stretched across Layla’s mouth. “I believe in you, Saint.”
Elise pouted. “Don’t call me that.”
“Elise,” Layla said in a wistful voice, leaning in to kiss the corner of Elise’s mouth. “Elise Saint, my beautiful best friend, I believe in you.”
The Cotton Club sat like a corpse in the heart of Harlem. It had been completely gutted, every room cleaned out, furniture and decor gone in the wake of its sale to a new owner. Layla was surprised it had not taken too long to sell considering the incident that made it a sinister spectacle in the neighborhood. Only dust and sequins remained. Remnants of the life the club had once hosted, its blood and bones, now swept away and tucked into the darkness forever. Every sanguine sin and confetti charm that had been formed between the walls dissipated. It was difficult to imagine the crowds that had once filled the place in the silence it now bore. But Layla could still smell the depravity.
“Whatever alcohol remains, I will be taking it off your hands, because there is a chance it’s tainted by Stephen Wayne’s poison,” Layla said. She followed Jamie to the back room, where he insisted leftover alcohol had been stored.
“I’m good at hiding my stuff; there’s definitely some left,” Jamie said. He pushed in a loose panel on the wall, and the whole thing came sliding out. Behind the wall was a compartment full of shelves. Jamie glanced up at the stacks of wooden shelves, his face twisting with confusion. “Oh, brother,” he muttered.
Layla sighed. “What is it?”
Jamie turned to her, one hand on his hip, his other hand rubbing his chin. “It appears that the booze has vanished,” Jamie said.
“Oh?” Layla swallowed her frustration. “Jamie, are you being honest right now?” She snapped, glaring. Already, she felt her fangs digging into her gums and just a slight parting of her lips revealed them to Jamie.
Jamie’s face went pale with fear and he hissed. “Okay, I sold it. When I found out the club was going under, I passed all the liquor off to someone else.”
“Who?” Layla demanded.
“To be fair, I didn’t know there was anything wrong with it until you told me—”
“Who did you sell it to, Jamie?” Layla pressed, sharper this time.
“She said her name was Rome, but I’m almost positive that’s an alias,” Jamie said.
Layla blinked. So many new burdens piled on her shoulders, she almost couldn’t sort through her racing thoughts to make an informed decision. “We’re going to have to find out who she is and get the liquor back before it’s distributed—”
Jamie held up his hands. “This was not even my supply to begin with. I only took over for the Diamond Dealers. And if the alcohol was really tainted, then wouldn’t everyone who came to the club have been poisoned?”
Layla let out a sad sigh. “Stephen Wayne sold reaper venom to the Diamond Dealers to ruin the products he knew would go straight to the dancers. They got infected. He tried to pin his plans on Dr. Harding, but the truth is, Stephen Wayne was the one who wanted to hurt us and make us hurt everyone else so we were to blame.”
“Sinister man,” Jamie muttered.
“It’s not long before another fan club comes along for him. One Klan out, another one in. But this time with biological warfare.” Layla turned away from the hideaway and stalked back to the main room of the club.
Jamie stopped by her side, a slight frown tugging at his lips. “I might be able to help you,” he said.
Layla cast him a sideways look, but said nothing.
“I already have control over a lot of distribution in this area, but I can secure more. That way we’ll have eyes on any malicious intent and we might be able to prevent the spread of this poison.” Jamie nodded to her. “Would you trust me?”
Layla laughed roughly. “Are you proposing an official alliance?”
Jamie lifted a brow, smiling. “What do you say, Quinn? Should we bring gangsters and reapers together?”
“Sounds like hell.” Layla grinned and reached for his hand.