“What do we do?” Layla asks, soothing Blair's hair away from her face. “Do we take her to the hospital?”
I don't know why she's asking me this. I'm not Blair's Keeper. I'm her daughter. I have no say here. I'm just...
The Heir.
The realization is startling. Once Blair is gone, all this is mine. The house, the bar, the Blacklighters, the Keepers...everything. One day she will leave, and I'll be left to make all the hard decisions. I just hope today isn't that day.
“Yes.”
As soon as I answer, Blair shakes her head. Something inside of me insists I listen to my Madam's order, my mother's command, but I don't. There is too much fear in her unguarded eyes, so much pain.
“Ig...mm...sor—” she gurgles out.
“Shh, it's okay.” I press a hand to her cheek, and it pains me to realize I can't remember the last time I touched her this way. “I've got you.”
I don't have a chance to hand her any more reassurances before the elevator door opens up and Ice comes barging out, relief stretching across his face. “There you are,” he says breathlessly. He shoves Layla aside and rips Blair from our arms.
“Hey! What are you doing?” I screech, reaching out for her the same way she's reaching out for me. “Where are you taking her?
“Hospital,” he barks out, carrying her limp body away. I try to follow, but he turns his cold eyes to me. “What do you think you're doing?” Ice's voice is always hard, but this is threatening.
“I'm going with you.”
“No, you're not.”
“Yes! I am!”
“Mercury!” Layla takes my hand and pulls me away. “Stay,” she whispers. “The girls will need you.”
Right.
The girls.
The girls who depend on Blair for...fucking everything.
Staring into my mother's frightened eyes, I nod. “It's okay,” I tell her. “I'll stay. Everything's gonna be fine. I'll see you when you get back.”
A single tear rolls down her cheek, streaking through dried blood, and the elevator doors close like a mouth, swallowing my mother whole.
Time slows to a crawl as the hallway fills with people—Blacklighters and their Keepers spewing questions all over the floor—but I am silent. I have no answers.
“Everyone back to your rooms!” Eric yells, taking charge. “Lock the doors and don't come out until I come for you!”
They look to me for guidance, so I nod, reassuring them that whatever Eric says goes. “To your rooms,” I whisper. It's the first time I've addressed other Blacklighters with an order, and it feels wrong, but they mind without question.
“Come on,” Kessler says, herding me toward our door. “You too.”
I go willingly, sparing a second to glance at the puddle of blood staining the carpet before he shuts the door.
As soon as we're alone, Kessler bundles me in his arms, holding on tight. I don't understand what he's doing—why he's rubbing his hands up and down the length of my back—but then I feel it. The shaking.
My hands, my legs, my head, my chest...nothing is still. Everything is in motion; an avalanche of emotions swirling inside me as my body suffers through an earthquake, every joint a fault-line, every muscle a crater. I'm splitting apart and I don't even know why. I can't stop it. I can't control it. The only thing keeping me upright is Kessler.
I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me.
“What are you doing?”
“Holding you,” he answers solemnly, even as I shove at his chest.
“Why?”
“Because you need me to.”
He's right, of course, although why I need him is beyond me. This entire situation is beyond my realm of understanding, but it's happening. Right now. It's not a bad dream. My brain didn't summon the image of my mother gagging on blood to fool with me. This is reality.
My mother is sick.
Ice has her.
He's taking her to get help.
That's all I know, but I hold onto the hope that she's in good hands as I let Kessler lay me down on the bed. He folds around me, acting as a physical barrier between me and the rest of the world, and I let him comb fingers through my hair. I let him kiss me as I zone out, staring down at the four digits written on the palm of my hand...
0623
I don't know what it is. All I do know is that my mother thought it imperative to scrawl the numbers in her own blood before she was dragged away.
Somehow, I manage to push through my swirling thoughts and fall asleep, and when I wake up, I feel it. The change. The shift in air pressure, as if there are a thousand invisible mouths exhaling into my face. Kessler isn't next to me, but I hear the water running in the bathroom, which puts my mind at ease, if only for a second.
Clutching my chest, I fight to breathe. My legs are rubbery as I rush to the window, and I hope a fresh gust of wind will chase out this eerie sensation. But when I jerk the curtains open, I stop cold. I know right away that the worst has just begun.
I'm fully awake. On high alert and poised to take action, just like I am every time I step inside the cage. Because now, I have a new cage, and it appears I'm standing dead center.
Yellow police tape stretches across the front gates, but that's nothing. An easy fix. What's not easy to tear down is the thick chain holding the doors together, winding through rusted bars like a coiled python. Sitting atop the chain, like a bow on a present, is a metal padlock.
“Kess...Kessler!” I yell. My head is swimming, my vision nothing more than a smear of colors and movement. Right now, I need him. I need my Keeper. “Kessler!”
He's at my side in an instant, wrapping strong arms around my waist and holding me upright when I begin to sway.
“What's wrong? Mercury, what's—”
“I don't know,” I say in a rush. “Something...I just...I feel like...right here—” I tap a shaking hand over my chest, over my rampant heart. “I feel it here. It's wrong. It's dark and wrong and—”
I freeze.
The instant I hear it, I know exactly what this feeling is.
Intuition.
Heavy footfalls sound from outside in the hall. A lot of them. Fisted hands bang on each door, getting closer and closer until our door shakes with the impact.
“Out in the hallway! Now!” comes a voice I don't recognize.
Kessler doesn't move. Neither do I.
They knock again, harder this time, yelling louder.
“What do you think?” Kessler whispers. “Out the window?”
I shake my head.
No. It's a straight drop down four stories. We'd either die or be rendered completely immobile. That's not an option. Neither is hiding. Because whoever's outside is rounding up the Blacklighters. I can hear their terrified voices.
“What the hell...”
“Who called the cops?”
“What's happening?”
“Where's Blair?”
I can't abandon them. I won't abandon them.
“Let's go.” I take in a steadying breath and grab Kessler's hand. We walk to the door together, an impenetrable unit, and he steps out first.
“Oh, shit...”
I'm not sure what he's referring to...until I look through the Blacklighters and Keepers pressed against the walls by armed police officers and see the two figures standing proudly in front of the closed elevator doors.
Ice steps in close, leaning in to whisper something in Griffin Lawson's ear, and I suddenly understand exactly what is happening right now.
Treason.
Which can only mean one thing...
“Round them up!” Griffin commands, circling a hand through the air.
Officers lurch into action, corralling everyone toward the open door leading to the stairwell. Kessler holds me to him as I watch his brother smile kindly at a man I thought I could trust. Then he hands over a folded sheet of paper, which Ice tucks into his shirt pocket.
“What's happening?” I whisper, hanging onto
my Keeper for dear life.
Kessler shakes his head. “Not sure, but I'm assuming a warrant is involved.”
“Where is she?” I ask under my breath, knowing Ice can neither see nor hear me. That doesn't matter, however, because every other Blacklighter under this roof is asking the same damn question.
“Where's Blair?”
“I want to speak to the Madam!”
“Where is she?”
“Blair!”
But Griffin's patience is worn thin. He extracts a gun from his holster, effectively causing the girls to close their mouths and back away as he lifts it toward the crowd.
“This is an official police investigation. Either you shut your mouths and play nice, or I arrest you and drag you back with me to New Liberty. Your choice. I guarantee our cells aren't this...” he glances around at the ornate sconces, pristine walls, and framed artwork lining the hallway, “...luxurious.”
I look up at Kessler when two officers weasel their way behind us and start inching us forward, herding us toward the stairwell. “Can they do this?”
His jaw clenches tight. “No. But they are.”
Blacklighters disappear through the door, but I'm not about to leave without answers. As Blair's only daughter and the sole inheritor of this property, I have a right to know what's happening. Digging my feet into the carpet, I force us to a stop next to Ice and Griffin, who are both glaring at Kessler with disdain.
“Where is she?” I growl, infusing my voice with so much venom even Griffin's face pales. “Where is my mother?”
Smile in place, Ice saunters up to me until I'm forced to crane my head back to look him in the eyes. He's trying to intimidate me, but it won't work.
“Thanks to the lethal amount of mercury floating around in Blair's system, she won't be returning to Farewell.” Ice's smile never wanes as he leans back and laughs—a wild, maniacal sound that sends shivers through my bones as what he's saying finally sinks in.
He laughs so hard, I have to walk away. This crushing pain in my chest demands it. But he's not done. His voice resonates through the house, rising above all the worried chatter and sternly barked orders, until all anyone can hear is his explosive proclamation.
“Your Madam is dead!”
To be continued in
The Keeper of Farewell
Coming Summer 2019.
About the Author
In 2013, Catherine Black left her position at a large internet company to stay at home with her two children, and she hasn't looked back since.
Playing mom, maid, and nurse during the day is wildly fulfilling, but when the lights go out and everyone's in bed, her imaginary friends come out to play.
When she's not writing or mothering, she's breezing through as many romance books as possible, binge-watching medical dramas on Hulu, or tending to her backyard chickens.
Contact Catherine
www.authorcatherineblack.com
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: facebook.com/authorcatblack
Instagram: instagram.com/_catherineblack
Twitter: @AuthorCatBlack
The Monster of Farewell (Blacklighters Book 1) Page 26
