Wind howls across the open road, whipping my hair into my face so I have to keep raking it back behind my ears. I lean against the car bonnet and drag on a cigarette. All part of the show. It’s freezing, but that’s okay. I’m not against playing on somebody’s sympathies, especially when that somebody can get me into Vinter’s mansion.
The car bonnet’s cracked open so it seems to be mid-gasp, steam puffing out. I’ve fried the motor out here in the middle of nowhere. Vinter lives north of the city, on the way to Colchester, and there’s only one road that leads to his place. Across the field I see the motorway full of weekend traffic and wonder if I’ve made a mistake.
My watch says it’s gone midday but the light’s so grey it could be early evening. I tug at the collar of the shirt. It itches like it’s got built-in barbs and I feel like an idiot standing out here. I’m all in black. All the better to shadow in. Black shirt. Black skirt. Black tights.
I can wear this to Mara’s funeral. Hey, I feel better already.
My mind drifts back to Celene. I used the last of Julian’s money to go clothes shopping and I picked up a cheap suit for her, too. Dark, to hide the shoulder wound if it bleeds. The state she was in, though – ash grey, eyes barely open – makes me doubt she’ll make it to Vinter’s. She has to, though. The plan doesn’t work without her. She has a bullet in her shoulder but she’s been planning this for months, and I’m pretty sure she won’t pass up her chance to confront Mara, send him the way she sent his father, even if it means getting herself killed in the process.
Does she really believe killing Mara will change anything? Cutting off the snake’s head usually just creates more. I think of her expression when she said they won’t stop coming after her until she’s dead. So certain. Her eyes stark smudges.
A vehicle appears on the horizon and I watch as it races closer, anticipation fraying into annoyance when it turns out to be an old van that can’t possibly be heading for Vinter’s. I’ve been here for three hours and I’m starting to worry nobody useful is going to come along. I need a rich idiot to take pity on me and get me into the party.
When the driver of the approaching van spots me, he begins to slow down but I wave him on, growing bored, a headache splitting my nerves one at a time. He’s the fifth person to think about helping me – being a lone girl in this wasteland has its benefits – but I’ve moved them all on, frustration causing the spider in my mind to thrash.
Each hour that crawls by is a special kind of torture. It gives me time to get nervous. My plan doesn’t kick in until I’m inside Vinter’s. And even then, any part of it could fail at any moment. If nobody picks me up I won’t even get past the front gates.
Even if I manage to trick somebody into giving me a lift there, who’s to say they’ll let me in? I wish I’d had more time in the portacabin to study the operation. I could have forged an invitation by copying Celene’s or at least got enough intel to blab my way past security.
A pair of headlights appears on the horizon. I toss the cigarette to the tarmac, stub it out with my boot. The headlights draw nearer and my heart raps against my ribcage. Another van.
As it approaches I see what looks like a chef’s hat painted on the bonnet.
It’s a catering van.
This road goes right past Vinter’s, so there’s a tiny chance this is the company he’s hired to cater the party. This could be my ticket. I step away from the car and throw my arm out.
The van doesn’t slow down.
I wave my arm, then put both arms above my head, striding out into the road, the van’s engine growing louder and louder until it’s a roar fighting the howl of the wind, and then the van shoots by.
‘HEY!’
I whirl around, ready to spit. My only way into Vinter’s gone in a blast of exhaust smoke.
Then the van’s tail lights flash red and it eases over to the side of the road. My hair flapping in my face, I give myself a silent high five and hurry over to the passenger window as it winds down.
A twentysomething girl leans across from the driver’s seat. There’s a spray of freckles across her nose and her strawberry blonde hair’s pulled back into a ponytail. For a second, I think it’s my foster sister Pearl. She looks just like those girls who tried to destroy me as a teenager. Joke’s on them – now I know exactly how they think.
‘Didn’t see you there. You got car trouble?’ she asks, and she even sounds like Pearl.
‘Piece of shit’s been threatening to die for weeks. Typical it does it just when I need to get to a job. My boyfriend will kill me if I have to call him out here.’
‘Job? Where you headed?’
‘The Vinter place. I’d walk it but–’
‘Are you with Sophie?’
Thanks for the intel, I think, registering the way her nose crinkles at the name, the way it might when you’re talking about somebody you hate.
‘She’s only my favourite person in the world,’ I say in a tone that could either be interpreted as super friendly or unbelievably sarcastic.
‘Any enemy of Sophie’s is a friend of mine. I’m heading to the Vinter place. Hop in.’
I could kiss her.
‘You’re fucking kidding. That’s insane. Thanks.’
I’m already opening the door, not giving her a second to change her mind, and then I’m inside the van that’s going to get me into Vinter’s, but I don’t feel triumphant, because suddenly I realise this might actually work.
My crazy plan is actually going to work.
And when I come out, I’ll have killed somebody for real.
My chauffeur flicks the radio, filling the cab with shrieky pop shit. ‘You need to make a call?’
‘What?’ I can barely hear her over the music.
She turns it down a little. ‘About the car. Do you need to call AA or something?’
‘Already did, thanks. They should be coming to tow it away this afternoon.’
‘Cool. What’s your name? You’re new, right?’
‘Jaime,’ I say. ‘Yeah, new. I get the feeling Sophie’s staff don’t stick around long.’
‘You’re telling me. I’m only sticking it out until college. I’m Lily, by the way.’
Of course you fucking are.
Memories nettle through me. Pearl yelling. Her coven giving me a shared, stinging stare across the school courtyard. Lola calling me ‘Oddzilla’ and ‘Tumour’ and a hundred other things so horrible they left lifelong scars.
I push the memories away and force a smile.
‘What’s the deal with this Vinter guy? He rich?’
Lily’s eyes saucer. ‘Oh God, don’t go there. He’s not one of those James Bond billionaires. He’s super paranoid about anybody who shows him any interest. I mean, not that you’re not pretty–’ Her eyes flick over me briefly and it’s obvious she’s lying.
‘Rich guys are boring,’ I say, rescuing her from the hole she’s digging. ‘I’ve always been more into the hot jocks. Give me a man with biceps the size of my thighs and I’m happy.’
I count the lies as they come out, building a picture of Jaime in my head. She’s an art school dropout who thought about studying at law school but then she remembered lawyers are all assholes. She actually quite likes waitressing but only because it funds her art.
Lives alone, but her sister’s on the same street.
She’s a cat person.
Loves TV shows about rich teenagers.
Lily’s saying something about how much she loves jocks, but not the meatheaded ones who go out on a Friday night and drink so much they end up fighting in the street. She likes the sensitive meatheads. You know, the ones who read poetry and can do electrical stuff around the house.
I fight the impulse to throw myself out of the moving van.
Keep it together. Having to share a ride with Lily is nothing compared to what I’m going to have to do this evening. I should be embracing the distraction but all I want is to sit quietly and go over the plan again and again until I know it by heart.
Vinter’s profile was pretty straightforward. Inherited his fortune from his mother, a Swedish sculptor whose creations sold for millions all over the world. He collects art and seems to spend most of his time investing in theatre projects. Which, let’s face it, means he’s probably not interested in female attention. Works for me.
Lily’s stopped talking and I notice she’s looking at me.
‘Sorry?’ I say.
‘I asked if you’ve been doing this for long?’
Infiltrating a rich guy’s home to steal a cursed artefact I intend to kill with?
‘No. A few months. I’m bricking it to be honest.’
Lily waves a hand. ‘Just stay out of Sophie’s way and you’ll be fine. Oh and there’ll be so much champagne, they won’t even notice we’ve hidden a few bottles out back for after. Perk of the job, right?’
‘Oh yeah.’
‘There aren’t many– Oh! This is it.’
My grip on my knees tightens as we approach a turning in the road. Lily eases down a tree-lined driveway and my heart feels like it’s pulsing in my throat. We roll towards a set of sturdy gates. Beyond them, I glimpse turrets and chimneys high up against the stormy sky.
The van crawls to a standstill at the gates. Lily reaches through her window for an intercom, pressing a button.
I try to relax. I’m Jaime. Nothing suspicious about me. I feel stiff, though, my shoulders ratcheting up around my ears. I unclench my fists and thrust away the doubts. Nobody’s interested in me. I’m the help. A bottom feeder funded by the rich socialites on the other side of the gate.
So much is riding on this, though.
And you’d be nervous, too, if you were able to pull a trigger on somebody. Become more than a killer; a murderer.
‘Yes?’ A voice crackles through the intercom.
‘Catering,’ Lily sings, grinning into the round bubble that must be a camera.
The gates shudder and then glide open. Lily drives us through and I can’t help craning forward in my seat, peering through the windscreen at the Vinter mansion. It’s bigger than I’d imagined, with pillars either side of the front doors and statues posing in little alcoves.
‘Guy’s loaded,’ I murmur.
‘Shame he’s a psycho.’
I sit back. ‘What?’
Lily shrugs. ‘He pretty much never leaves, and people who’ve worked for him have these insane stories about what he gets up to in there.’
I didn’t read anything about that in the operations room. Either Lily’s making it up or somebody’s been telling her tales. But then, Vinter knows my mother, so it stands to reason he’s unhinged.
We circle an ornate fountain with a marble mermaid, passing into the shadow of the house as we skirt round to the back. This must be the maids’ entrance. It’s not like we were going to traipse through the front door.
Lily parks up and flashes me a dazzling smile.
‘This is it.’
‘Thanks. I owe you.’
‘You can make it up to me by making Sophie’s life miserable tonight.’
‘You’re on.’
Dammit, Lily. You’re actually okay when you’re not blathering on about something idiotic.
For a brief moment, I wonder what it would be like if we were friends. I could forget the Crook Spear. Hide out back for the duration of the party, or feign sickness, let Celene and Mara scrap it out. Then I could leave with Lily, say I forgot my keys and crash on her sofa. She’d wake me up with a coffee and we’d talk for a few hours–
‘Better get to it, I guess.’ Lily opens her door and gets out. My hand twitches for a moment as I reach for the handle.
‘Get a fucking grip,’ I tell myself.
‘Give me a hand with these?’
Lily’s at the back of the van taking out trays of food. I go round and she hands me one.
‘The kitchen’s through there, I think.’ She gestures at a small door.
Clutching the tray, I head over, push the door open with my elbow, and just like that I’m inside Vinter’s home.