Percy stood in front of the formidable oak door of a three-story brick terraced house. He rang the bell and waited. Ellie’s hand felt so little in his, like at any moment it could be snatched away.
A butler opened the door, looked them over with an air of disdain, and requested their names. After Percy replied, the butler said, “Follow me,” in an indifferent voice.
Ellie squeezed Percy’s hand. “She can’t wait to see you.” Then she pointed to the third door in the hallway and whispered, “She’s in there.”
The butler stumbled, but recovered quickly. He made his way to the door that Ellie had indicated and opened it. “Madam, your guests have arrived.”
“Excellent. Please, show them in.” Lydia’s voice sounded as sweet as it always had.
The butler left the door open and gestured for Percy and Ellie to enter.
From the doorway, Lydia was the first thing Percy saw. She probably planned it that way. She sat on a couch with a tea tray and a tiered plate of assorted pastries set out before her. Her honey blond hair was piled atop her head. Several curls lay on her bare shoulders. A few brushed against her cheeks. Her dress had a delicate floral pattern of pink roses and pale green ivy. The same shade of green as her eyes. She didn’t look like she’d aged more than five years since he had seen her, even though twenty years had passed.
The walls were a pale green silk that matched her eyes. There was an oval writing desk in the far corner, facing the window. Clearly, being banished from the four families hadn’t diminished her—financially, at least.
Percy didn’t see any auras but hers. As far as he could discern, there was no one else hidden in the room, prepared to harm Ellie or him. Of course, someone with Lydia’s powers hardly needed to rely upon brute strength. He squeezed Ellie’s hand one more time, as much to comfort himself as to reassure her.
He walked into the room, pulling the little girl with him. “You’ve certainly made a nice home for yourself, Lydia.”
“Do you like it?” She sounded mildly pleased. “I moved here a few months ago. The previous owner was a count who lost his fortune and killed himself. His widow sold it quite cheaply.”
Percy assumed that Lydia had had a hand in that series of events, but he chose not to comment. “The room reflects your tastes. As I remember them.”
“Yes, it has been a long time, Percival, but it’s so lovely to see you again.” Her voice remained sweet but she gave him a savage smile—teeth that promised torment. Then she extended her hand for a kiss.
“Lydia.” He bent over her knuckles and barely brushed them with his lips. “I go by Percy now.”
“Percy.” She tested it aloud. Then she released his hand and slid her gaze to Ellie. Lydia’s smile disappeared. “Ellie, look at you. The spitting image of your dear mother.” Loathing lingered in each word.
Ellie squeezed Percy’s hand and pressed against his side.
“I was a little worried about you. What took you so long?” The slightest wrinkle marred Lydia’s brow.
Ellie trembled beside him. “I’m sorry—”
“Ellie was exhausted. Then we needed to eat.” He kept his tone somewhere between contrite and practical.
“A locator spell can be hard on one so inexperienced.” Lydia almost sounded sympathetic, until she added, “Of course, I was doing them without difficulty by the time I was six.”
Ellie blanched and looked down at her shoes.
“Not everyone can be like you, Lydia.” Percy tried to keep the edge out of his voice. He couldn’t afford to alienate her.
He gave Ellie’s hand a few quick squeezes, trying to reassure her. They remained standing. He cleared his throat and looked at the chair, waiting for an invitation to stay.
“How rude of me, please sit.” Lydia patted the spots on the couch to her right and her left, indicating exactly where they were expected to sit.
Ellie dropped Percy’s hand and went to sit beside Lydia without hesitation. He would have preferred to take a chair a few feet away from Lydia, but he couldn’t leave Ellie in her grasp, so he sat where he had been directed.
“Lydia, let the child go. We can talk, just the two of us,” he said.
“But I’m having fun.” He hated that devilish sparkle in her eyes, as she asked, “Will you amuse me instead, Percy?”
“I can’t make any promises.”
Lydia poured their tea. Steam rose from the cups. “Drink up, poppet,” she said to Ellie.
Ellie’s hand shook. The tea was too hot for drinking, but the child couldn’t stop herself from lifting the cup to her lips. Her eyes went wide with fear. She was going to scald her tongue, her mouth, her throat—and she couldn’t stop herself.
He knocked the cup out of her hand. The porcelain shattered on the hardwood floor. “That’s enough. Release her.”
“See? I knew you could keep me entertained if you tried, Percy.” Lydia whispered a few words and Ellie slumped against the cushions. “I do enjoy this grown-up version of you.” Lydia brushed the shoulder of his frock coat, like she was polishing a new trophy. “Though I was sorry to see you lose that eye.”
“See or foresee?” He had no memory of her being there, but she did like to be there to witness the misfortunes she predicted.
Lydia laughed. It sounded like tiny bells. Everything about her drew him in, and he knew what she was like. He could hardly imagine her effect on those without his knowledge and his strength. Her exterior was so inviting, but her interior was deadly.
“Both, dear.” She rested her hand lightly on his arm. “If I hadn’t been exiled, I might have let you know more about it.”
“Thanks.” She wouldn’t have provided enough information to stop it, just enough to make him fear it.
“Though seeing you now with that eye patch,” her voice trailed off. “So handsome, with the perfect dash of danger.” She smiled and the whole room brightened. “And that dagger, I knew you would get it.”
“You can see it?” He tried to keep the surprise off his face, but it slipped into his voice.
“Did you really think a little cloaking spell would work on me?” She sipped her tea.
“Can you, I mean, will you help us?” Ellie’s voice was small and tentative, like a mouse pleading for a crumb of cheese.
Lydia tilted her head to the side. “Why would I help you?”
Ellie looked to Percy.
“I’m sure there is something you want. Something we can trade for your assistance,” he said.
“Depends on the assistance you need.”
“You don’t know?” Percy asked.
“I know many things. Tell me which one I’m supposed to help you with today.”
“Sarah,” Ellie said.
“The poisoned Langley heir. She should have known better. Foolish girl. There were other spells. Ways to extract the poison from Harrison without poisoning herself. A little more risky for the Radcliffe heir, but still...”
“Can you help her?” he demanded.
“She’s dying,” Lydia said.
“But there’s a way to save her.” Percy pushed onward. “Jonas told me.”
“How is our keeper doing? I hope you got what you needed from him. He’s not long for this world.” She said it with such calmness, like she was talking about a style of dress falling out of fashion, not the death of the only person who tried to reconcile her with her family.
“How can you talk about him like that? He cared about you.”
“Mallorys don’t have friends. They have specimens they study. I was just his favorite specimen. He didn’t want me to escape from under his lens.”
Percy tried to steer the conversation back where it needed to be. “Can you save Sarah?”
“There are always ways to cheat death. None of them are easy.”
“You’re our cousin,” Ellie said softly.
“Not anymore. Your mother banished me from the family. I am dead to them and they are dead to me.” Lydia said the words brazenly, but something flickered in her eyes.
“So, you won’t help us?” he said.
“I didn’t say that.”
Her silver-green eyes were mesmerizing. Percy resisted the urge to touch the curl on her cheek. He blinked and looked down at his dagger. The star sapphire winked back at him, reminding him how much danger he and Ellie were in.
“You cannot just walk in here asking for something. It’s been two decades. There’s so much we should catch up on first.” She extended her hand toward the pastries and cookies. “You must try these. They are the best that Demel has to offer.”
Ellie looked to Percy for permission. The star sapphire still shone because being around Lydia was a constant supernatural threat. The emerald, however, was dark. No physical threat. But Lydia could have put a spell on the food. He shook his head.
Lydia caught their silent exchange. Her eyes slitted. She grabbed a piece of marzipan and took a bite. “Perfectly harmless. If I wanted you dead, you would be. Don’t be ungracious guests.” The venom in her voice reminded Percy that he could be sent away at any moment by her. And he still needed her. Sarah still needed her.
Lydia sat back with her tea and waited for them to respond. Ellie took a tart. Percy, a piece of apple strudel.
For half an hour, Percy did as she asked. He talked about some of the sights in America. She found that fascinating. Lydia didn’t say much about her time in France or anywhere else, but Percy got the sense that she seldom stayed in one place for long.
Percy was reaching the end of his patience when Lydia clapped her hands once and announced, “You’ve indulged me enough.” She shifted to face him on the couch. “You want me to save Sarah’s life.”
“Yes.”
“Exchanging a life for a life requires some powerful—and dangerous—magic.” She paused. “What will I gain from working such a difficult spell?”
Percy leaned closer. “You want the Langleys to say they were wrong. You want them to apologize and beg for your return.”
“I don’t want them to take me back. I want to see them destroyed. They didn’t just cast me out. They left me alone and penniless. If I hadn’t found my husband, I would have died.” There was a starkness in her voice. A vulnerability he’d never heard before. She really thought her family wanted her dead.
“You always land on your feet,” Percy said. “They knew that. We’ll find a way to get you back in the family.”
“I don’t need you for that. They will welcome me back when the ring destroys Ellie. It will choose me next. It has to.”
Her conviction confused him. Didn’t she know why the ring skipped her? “Jonas said it will never choose you.”
“Jonas doesn’t know everything. I’ve always been very patient when it comes to what mattered.”
“So, you won’t help us?”
“I don’t really have a reason to now, do I?”
“But my sister will die,” Ellie said.
“Oh poppet, she doesn’t matter to me.”
“You could do that spell easily,” he said.
“Of course I could. But I won’t. Not for you, or your precious Sarah.” Lydia poured some more tea and took a sip. “But Ellie could try. Yes. I’ll even give her the spell. She just has to decide who dies in place of Sarah.”
Lydia leapt up, almost cheerfully, and went to her desk. She sat down, grabbed some paper and a quill, and began writing.
“Don’t do this, Lydia. She’s just a child.”
Lydia ignored him and kept writing.
“I’ll do it,” Ellie whispered.
“You can’t,” Percy said.
Lydia’s quill scratched across paper. It was a few minutes before she came back and handed the paper to Ellie.
He glanced at the paper. The spell was written in red. “Is that red ink?”
“The darkest spells must be written in crow’s blood,” Lydia said.
Ellie snatched the paper and read it. “I have to swap someone as beloved to me as Sarah.” Her voice trembled.
Lydia’s eyes danced with amusement. “Percy, or perhaps your dear mama. Either would do. Of course, if you aren’t dark enough to make this kind of decision, you can’t cast this kind of spell. You must commit to it. And the darkness you fear in me? It will live inside you, too.”
Ellie shrank back. “Percy, I don’t think I can work this kind of magic.”
“You don’t have to.” He switched his tone from comforting to commanding. “Go out in the hall for a moment. I need to talk to Lydia privately.”
Ellie clenched the spell in her hand and fled the room.
As soon as Ellie shut the door, he demanded, “Was that necessary?”
“Not at all. It was solely for my amusement.” Lydia brushed a stray curl from her cheek.
“Just tell me what you want.”
Lydia seated herself beside him. Close enough for her thigh to brush against his. “Exactly what is happening. Sarah’s death. Ellie’s death. I want all of this and it’s happening.” She licked her pink lips. “It’s delicious to watch you destroy yourselves with your noble intentions. I’ve never tried to save anyone. And I’ve always survived.”
Tired of her games, he stood up. “Did you just bring me here to toy with me or is there something you want?”
Her eyes slid to his belt.
He quirked an eyebrow.
She giggled. “Not that. I want your dagger.”
“I can’t give it to you.” It was his family’s strength. It was what made them who they were.
“Then I can’t help you with this spell.” She added, “Ellie’s too weak, you know. Too green. She’s going to be slaughtered. You can only protect her a little longer, Percy.”
“You’ve seen her future?”
Lydia nodded. “Sarah and Ellie will die. And you will live with the knowledge that you could have saved them both, but didn’t.”
“What would you do with my dagger?” It didn’t just warn him of danger or protect him in battle. A single cut delivered by him severed the connection between soul and body. In her hands, it would become twisted.
“The question you need to ask is: What will you do if you fail Sarah and Ellie? How will you go on knowing that a silly family heirloom was all that stood between you and your darling Sarah?”
Rage ran through him like a sword. His fingers twitched. He’d never wanted to wrap his hands around someone’s throat and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze the life out of her more than he did in this moment. But that wouldn’t save Sarah or Ellie.
“I need some time to think.” He moved toward the door.
Lydia followed him. “Don’t take too long. Lives are at stake.”
And it didn’t matter to her. He swiveled to face her. “What happened to you?”
She stepped closer enough to share a breath and whispered, “Everything.”
For a second, he glimpsed a world of pain in her eyes. A world she masked from everyone else. A world that frightened even him.
She caressed his cheek. “Don’t go like that.” Her voice was so hard to resist. He felt her power tugging him toward her. His hatred turning to another burning emotion: desire.
She tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed her body against his. “You always wanted me. You can’t help it.”
She was right. Her darkness called to his. The best in him knew that he shouldn’t, but that only made her more tempting. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoes, offering her lips, but they remained inches away from his. He couldn’t resist. He lifted her up and kissed her. She still tasted of strawberries.
When he put her back down, he couldn’t help touching the curl on her cheek. Just as he thought—it was softer than a rose petal.
“Take the night,” she breathed. “But remember Sarah doesn’t have many more left to waste.”
With those words, the spell she cast over him shattered. He was the Kingsley heir again. He released her and stormed out the door. Her laughter echoed behind him. He grabbed Ellie’s hand and stalked out of the terraced house.
Lydia’s laughter still rang in his head.