I moved to put my ear to the door. Strange that I had missed the music in my excitement. Then I turned back to Tristan, but it was the inside of the open closet door that caught my attention. At first, I was sure that my tired eyes were playing tricks. But as I stared, the reality of what I saw soured my stomach.
The poster on the wall was framed, ripped, and faded, but was obviously cherished.
The comfort I had felt since I got off the train evaporated in one strong gust. “He lied.”
Tristan’s face contorted in confusion until I pointed behind the door. At the poster with my face on it.
“Oh,” Tristan sputtered. “Is that bad?”
I looked away and could not speak, so I just nodded. Then I rushed out. As the door closed, I heard Tristan say, “But, the bells of Notre-Dame. I remember now. That’s my favorite sound. I remember.”
* * *
I sat at the top of Dec Hampton’s stairs, listening to him play the piano, anger lodged in my stomach, a stone forming in my heart.
Chapter 30
Dec
“You don’t have to go.”
I’d said it at least four times, but it was the only thing I could think after Annie announced she was going to find somewhere else to stay until the train was fixed.
I stood in the doorway of the guest room, watching while she packed her keyboard and small backpack. Every muscle in my body ached in panic. She hadn’t looked at me. She just stared down at a white shirt she kept folding and unfolding.
“I think I do,” she said, holding the fabric still.
“But I don’t want you to,” I said, aware my needy response was the wrong one, but unable to stop myself. “I mean, you’re welcome here. We want you to stay. All of us.”
She took a deep breath and spread her fingers out on the silk. I wanted to reach out and touch them, so I’d have that memory to hold on to when she was gone and St. Hilaire was back to being the same awful place it had always been.
Annie touched the charm at her neck and pressed the button. We listened together as it played the last few known measures of her piece.
“You could have told me,” she said. “I thought…I do not know what I thought. But you seemed like someone different. Someone not like everyone else.”
For a millisecond, I was happier than I’d remembered being in years. I hadn’t been the only one to feel like there was something between us. Sure, maybe it was only friendship, but it wasn’t like that was nothing.
But then the realization came crashing back on me. Of course, somehow, I’d fucked it up.
“What did I do?” I asked.
Frustration danced across her face as she told me how she’d been playing and how the notes had appeared and how she’d come to my room and found Tristan, well not only Tristan, but—
I got it. “The flyer. You saw the flyer.”
Annie nodded.
I had nothing to lose, so I laid it on the line. “I admit to being a fan of yours. For a while now. More than a fan. Wait, that sounds wrong.” I closed my eyes. Pictured the flyer. Remembered the stolen moments in the library, escaping to the tune of her piano. I forced myself to sit on the bed and look into her hurt eyes. I forced myself to be honest. “You saved me. You and your music. I’m not being melodramatic. The last few years have sucked. Listening to you play kept me from going off the deep end. Well, mostly. And then you show up at my door and ask for help, and there was nowhere in those conversations for me to tell you how much of my free time I’ve spent in the library listening to you play the Prelude.”
Annie dropped her shirt to the bed. I couldn’t read the look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Annie. You can hate me if you want. But please don’t go.” I tuned out everything except for the quiet in the house, the beat of my own heart. I tried to feel what Russ always picked up on, the vibrations. I was a Hampton, after all, and had to have some ability running through my veins. “I think what you’re looking for is here, in St. Hilaire,” I said. “I don’t think you would have gotten that message anywhere else.”
My words sounded odd to my ears, but down deep, I knew Russ was right. Something is happening. And it was happening at least in part because Annie was here. And whatever it was, needed to happen and then get itself sorted-the-hell out so I could leave.
“Please?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a message to the universe. She had to stay, simply because I really wasn’t sure what I’d do if she left. Not before I did.
Annie’s expression melted into something more complicated as she moved closer to me.
I braced myself, knowing I deserved whatever came next. But she got closer, so close that I could feel her hair against my cheek when she gave me the smallest, most cautious, and most wonderful of kisses.
I waited, frozen, for her to explain, but all she did was give me a small smile, then turned, leaving all of her belongings unpacked, and walked out of the room.
Chapter 31
Russ
Alex Mackenzie paced around my room, sneered at my books, and glared out the window at the Mustang as if it were a misbehaving show dog.
He was already on my last nerve; now, I had to rely on him to stick a needle in my arm.
“There are no promises this will work,” I reminded him.
“Way to cover your ass.”
I drew myself up. “Watch it. I’m doing you a favor.”
Alex made a face, but sat down and shut up.
I pulled the black bag out of my closet, feeling a familiar surge of anticipation. I took out the first vial, the one I hoped would allow me to contact Ian, and drained a third of the solution into the potted ivy next to my desk. The plant shook and shuddered with the knowledge of generations of Griffin seers. I shook and shuddered with the realization that my supplies were running low.
“What are you doing?” Alex asked.
No way was I going to tell Alex I was concerned he wouldn’t bring me out of the fugue at the right time and was hoping a slightly smaller dose might do the trick. I lied and said, “I don’t totally have the doses sorted out yet,” then broke the top off the second glass vial and poured a quarter of it into the first, betting that might be enough to keep me from dying should Alex bail.
My arm pulsed. This was it. Contacting Ian would get Alex on my side, and Alex couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Soon, everyone would know I was the one to contact Ian, that I was Guild material.
No use wasting time. I filled the syringe. “Here goes nothing.” Then I plunged the needle into my arm.