Home > Hidden Huntress(61)

Hidden Huntress(61)
Author: Danielle L. Jensen

Which is why Lessa didn’t see Victoria until it was too late. Her fist connected just under Lessa’s ribs, driving the air out of her lungs and sending her staggering back. “That’s for Anaïs,” Victoria shouted, and before Lessa could react, my friend punched her hard in the side of the face, the crunch of bone audible from across the room. “And that’s for me.”

Dragging in a breath, I lurched in their direction. Victoria had caught Lessa by surprise, but my sister was still more powerful.

But I needn’t have worried, because Vincent and Marc had been right on her heels.

Lessa’s eyes flicked between them, the crushed bones of her face slowly reforming. “I’m going to make you suffer for this,” she said, her voice garbled by her shattered jaw.

“That a challenge?” Victoria asked, smiling as she rubbed her knuckles. “Because if it is, I accept.”

“A duel to the death, perhaps?” Vincent added, clapping his hands together. “Everyone enjoys those.”

Lessa licked her lips nervously, using the wall behind her as support as she climbed to her feet. “You can’t kill me,” she whispered. “You can’t… He’ll punish you.”

“Oh, she is a liar, isn’t she?” Victoria said, voice dripping with uncharacteristic malice. “I’m more than capable of killing you, Lessa.”

“Let her go.” I coughed, my throat itching as it healed the damage the noose had done. Was it taking longer than normal? “I’ll not stoop to her level.” Just yet.

The twins’ faces fell, but they let Lessa scurry by without argument.

“What are you three doing here?” I asked, my relief at seeing Marc momentarily chasing away all my concerns. Was he well? Had he forgiven me? I wished I could see his face so as to better judge his frame of mind, but it was hidden by the hood of his cloak.

“Élise saw Lessa enter your rooms and was concerned about what she intended,” my cousin said. “She sought me out.”

Élise. I owed that girl a thousand times over. “Your arrival was timely.”

“I believe ‘thanks’ is the word you’re grasping for,” Marc replied, his voice dry.

He sounded normal. Sane. What stroke of good fortune was this? “You’re right,” I said, my cheeks aching with an unfamiliar grin. “Thank you. There are no words for how glad I am to see you three.”

A wave of dizziness hit me, chased away only by the shot of pain that lanced up my arm when I caught my balance on the desk.

“What’s wrong?” Marc asked, and all three of them came closer.

“Cécile.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to find my equilibrium. “Something’s happened. She’s desperate. More desperate than I’ve ever felt her.” I clenched my teeth together. “She’s going to do something.”

But what? I cursed my lack of information. My helplessness. If she was acting under this level of desperation, the outcome could be disastrous. Perhaps even fatal.

The finality of the situation hit me, and with it came a compulsion I could not deny. “I must get back to work,” I muttered. “I must finish this.”

The three of them exchanged meaningful looks suggesting they weren’t unaware of my predicament, then fell into step, the twins behind and Marc at my side. “Your father had all of Pénélope’s things returned to me,” he said. “And he had Vincent switched to the night shift so the twins are together again. I assume it is your doing?”

“No,” I said. “I wanted to do something to help you, but I thought I’d only make things worse.”

The compulsion to build, to fulfill my word to the half-bloods, was taking over my mind, making it difficult to think of anything else. Which construction sites would have blocks ready? Where should I go first? “He made the choice of his own volition.” What was Cécile planning? How much time did I have before she acted? Would it be enough?

“Then circumstances truly are dire,” Marc said. “He does not want you dead, you realize that?”

Did I? I wasn’t sure. “He’s killing her. I’m not sure she even realizes it.”

“But she isn’t dead yet. Don’t be the one who causes that to change. You need to ration your strength, give her a chance to succeed.” He caught me by the shoulder, although he didn’t try to stop me. “That’s why I’m here, Tristan. The twins, too. We’re going to help you build.”

I blinked, my thoughts mercifully clear of compulsion for a heartbeat. “Why? Why would you do this for me?” And the unasked question—how was it even possible that he could help me? What had happened to clear the madness from his mind that had resulted from my meddling?

That was the question answered, the twins falling back a few paces to give us space. “I thought about what you said in the mines.”

I interrupted. “I shouldn’t have…” But he held up a hand, cutting me off.

“You were right. It would have been one thing if my heart had stopped beating when hers did, if the decision had been taken out of my hands. But to choose it?” He inhaled sharply. “She did not wish it. And now, I find I do not wish it either. There is much I would like to see done before I willingly walk toward the end. This,” he gestured out at the city lying in front of us. “Saving this is one.”

How much better would the world be if it were men like Marc who ruled?

“I am glad to hear it,” I said. “Only now I fear it is I who will not see our plans through to the end.”

He nodded slowly, both incapable and unwilling to give false platitudes in the face of such a desperate situation. “It may be that the unthinkable occurs, but it has not yet. And until it does, there is hope yet that we might achieve the impossible.”

Hope. It was not something I often allowed myself for it had caused me to suffer so many bitter disappointments. But what else did I have now? I’d had the opportunity to kill my father, and I hadn’t taken it, foolishly believing that time was on my side. That a better, more prudent plan would present itself. I’d been wrong. Now my only hope was for Cécile to succeed in this impossible task that had been set for her, and perhaps she was the best place for all our hopes to rest. I knew her: she would not hesitate if opportunity presented itself. She would be bold.

“Victoria, Vincent,” Marc said, turning to the twins. “You will manage the sites in the north half of the city.”

They both nodded, then Vincent gave his sister a sly smile. “You take the east and I’ll take the west. Whoever has the most work done by midnight wins.”

Victoria grinned back, but I could see her eyes were glistening. “I accept your challenge.”

It took a concerted effort, but I stopped in my tracks. “There will,” I said, “be extra points for the quality of work done.”

“We will do it right, Tristan,” Vincent said, his voice strange in its solemnity. “You have our word on that.”

“You will judge, won’t you?” A flood of tears poured down Victoria’s cheeks. “You know contests with subjective elements require a judge.”

“I…” I wanted to tell her that I would, but the words wouldn’t come out, because I didn’t believe they were true. “I trust you.” Why did I feel as though I was saying goodbye?

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