“You can do this,” she said, trying to quell the nervous hammering of her heart. “You did it blindfolded twice, you can do it like this.”
Descending the stairs and letting the door drop into place behind her, Alice felt a moment of panic as the darkness closed in.
I’m safe, there’s nothing here that will hurt me.
Running her finger tips along the wall, Alice began walking through the passage way. In what must’ve been a few minutes, but what felt like an hour to Alice, she was at the end of the passage.
When she opened the door that let out into the private study, Alice was shocked to see Mrs. Frost in a bathrobe, sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs.
“Marco called me when he couldn’t find you at the loft,” she said, her raspy voice gentle.
Alice opened her mouth to speak and dissolved into sobs. After a moment, Mrs. Frost’s bony arms came around her, holding her tight.
“Let it out,” Mrs. Frost said. “Get it all out.”
And she did. Crying so hard that her eyes and stomach hurt with the effort. When she had calmed a bit, Mrs. Frost led her to the couch and sat down next to her.
“I should have seen this coming,” Mrs. Frost said, handing Alice a handkerchief.
Alice wiped her nose and hiccupped a few times.
“H-how would you know?”
Mrs. Frost shook her head. “It does not matter. Tell me everything.”
It all poured out of her. How powerless she’d felt under Phantasm’s gas. The fear that everything she held dear was being taken from her. What the newspaper office had been like. Phantasms words to her. And finally, Uncle Logan being tortured.
As Alice spoke, the anger began to take form again, warm and hard inside of her. She jumped up and paced, wanting to outrun it somehow.
“And tonight?” Mrs. Frost asked.
Shame welled up as Alice told her about the fight, cooling some of her anger.
“A part of me still wants to kill him,” she said, her voice cracking.
“That is only natural.”
“But, that’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be. I don’t want to be...like him, like Douglas.”
“Oh, my dear. You are nothing like your father. He would not have stopped. You did.”
“Only because someone interrupted me. If those people hadn’t walked by—”
“I do not believe that. Something broke through, some part of you that is stronger than even your desire to kill your aunt’s murderer.”
Alice opened her mouth to tell Mrs. Frost that it didn’t matter — that she was out of control, she wasn’t the hero they thought she was.
“Listen to me,” Mrs. Frost said, her face pinching with pain. “Come here.”
Alice sat. “Are you—?”
“Not important. You need to hear me, please.”
Mrs. Frost took a shuddering breath and her face relaxed. When she looked at Alice, her blue eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“I told you about your aunt, but I never told you about me. I was not...I allowed my conscience to become smaller, the longer I remained the Serpent. It made all the hard decisions easier to bear. Until one night, I realized that I had not heard that part of myself in quite some time. I tried to find it again, and little-by-little it revived, but the damage was done. I had hardened myself too much to allow compassion to temper my decisions. But, you are nothing like me. And, you are also nothing like Diana. You,” she wiped Alice’s tears away with one gnarled finger, “are something special.”
“But I’m so angry!”
“Anger is not evil. Even hate has its uses. It is all a kind of strength.”
“I was powerful tonight,” Alice whispered, ashamed at how good it had felt. “I’ve never fought that well before. But if this anger is my power, then I don’t want it.”
“No, do not think that way. Your power is not in the anger alone, that was my mistake. Your power is in the tempering of it with compassion and the strength of your innate goodness. I know how it might sound, but I let those things die in me, and I was the weaker for it. Diana let them overrule her other strengths, and it made her unable to be Serpent at all. Do not make our mistakes.”
Alice shook her head. “If I let it out again—”
“Trust yourself, Alice.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Delicate tendrils of light were spreading through the sky by the time Alice got back to the loft. She lingered outside her door for a few minutes, trying to gather enough courage to face Lionel and Marco and tell them what she’d done.
“They love me,” she whispered, holding onto that truth as tight as possible, hoping it would be enough for them to forgive her.
She was surprised to find the loft dark and, for a moment, Alice’s heart squeezed with the fear that they hadn’t come, that they had left her.
But once her boots thumped on the floor, Lionel’s head shot up from the couch, his blond hair a spiky mess as usual. Alice couldn’t help smiling at how adorably angry he looked when first waking up.
“Thank god,” he said, wrapping his huge arms around her and holding her with a gentleness that would’ve made her melt under normal circumstances.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a few minutes.
“No but…I think I should.”
She stepped out of the comfort of his arms and, for the second time, she recounted what she’d done after leaving the hospital. When she got to the fight in the alley by the Science Foundation, her voice broke.
“I can’t believe I…” she said, after she’d finished. “I have no idea if he’s even alive.”
“You were angry. If anyone understands losing control when in the midst of that, I guess I do.”
“It’s not—”
“My fault. Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps telling me. But...” He raked his hands through his hair, turning away from her. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “It’s a relief in some ways. I hold myself in such control all the time, so I don’t hurt anyone. Even good things, hugging and holding, and...I can’t ever forget my strength...that I could hurt the people I love just by touching them. But when the anger takes over, I don’t worry, don’t feel afraid. God, Alice! What does that say about me?”
She pressed herself against Lionel’s back, holding him as tight as possible.
“That you’ve paid a price for this gift and it’s hard. That you’re human.”
“I feel like a monster.”
“Marco and I know you better than anyone. You’re not a monster to us.”
“How can you say that? After what I’ve done?”
“We’ve both made mistakes.”
“What if...what if this is it? What if I stay like this forever? I could never be with...you’d hate me one day, Alice.”
She walked around and held his face in her hands, making him meet her gaze. His eyes were bright with tears and pain. Alice kissed his forehead, his eyes and cheeks. She hovered near his mouth, wanting to make him see that she could never hate him, that she had loved him since she was a child, even if that love had somehow started to change in a way she didn’t understand.
“I could never hate you,” she whispered.
There was so much desire in Lionel’s gaze that Alice felt it like a warm caress. His thumb grazed her cheek, lips twisting into that cocky grin that always made her insides melt. Yet today, it just made her sad. When he stepped away from her, Alice knew for the first time that it wasn’t because he didn’t want her. He was scared to lose control, and until he was cured, Lionel would never admit his true feelings.
“You went to see Mrs. Frost?” Lionel asked, going to the kitchen as if it were any other morning.
She nodded, willing herself to follow Lionel’s example and move on.
“Marco called her.”
He began filling the coffee pot with water.
“Where...where is he?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Said he needed some air.”
Lionel frowned at the coffee pot for a moment before looking at her. “Do you know—”
“Yeah.” She waved him off and finished filling the pot, chuckling. “We would starve without Marco.”
Lionel laughed. “I know.”
“He didn’t say where he was going?”
“No. He was pretty upset when he discovered that you hadn’t come back here last night.”
“I shouldn’t have lied to you both I just…I had to do something.”
Lionel nodded. “I understand. But you might have to explain it to Marco.”
She sighed.
“Why don’t you go change while the coffee’s brewing.”
Alice looked over her shoulder as she walked to her room. “Make sure to save me some.”
She hadn’t really noticed the condition of her suit until she began taking it off. There was grime on her back and legs from the alley, and general dust from maneuvering the dark passageway under the Frost mansion. All fairly normal things. But when she went to take her gloves off, Alice noticed the dried blood that coated the dark purple leather, and felt bile rise to her throat. It wasn’t the first time someone’s blood had ended up on her suit, but this was different. This blood was from a man she’d almost killed.
Her swollen knuckles made getting the gloves off difficult. And when she finally succeeded, Alice threw them into a corner.
She slipped into her soft bathrobe, as she heard the front door open. She knew before she heard his voice that Marco was back.
Her palms became sweaty and her stomach twisted. What if he couldn’t forgive her? What if everything else that had happened to their friendship in the last few days was just too much?
She dashed into the bathroom, feeling his eyes on her, but she wasn’t ready to face him, not quite yet.
The hot water stung the cuts on her face, but she kept herself under the stream. Bruises covered her torso and back. Her upper arms had strange long bruises, and she realized that it was from Baritone holding her so tight.
Flashes of her fight with her aunt’s murderer made her cringe, and she slumped against the wall of the shower.
The floor boards outside the bathroom creaked, as if someone had approached the door. She could almost feel Marco standing there, worried about her. But he didn’t knock, and soon the floor creaked again as he retreated.
Alice stayed in the shower until the hot water began to run out. She took extra care with every little detail of her grooming, even brushing some mascara on her lashes. Finally, there was nothing left to do.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Alice opened the door.
Lionel was cramming scrambled eggs on toast into his mouth, a steaming cup of coffee next to him, while Marco worked at the stove on something Alice couldn’t see.
Lionel grinned at her, cheeks bulging with food. The memory of a young boy with butter-smeared lips came to her mind. She smiled, her fears starting to relax.
“Was gonna save you some, but Marco said he’d make more,” Lionel said around his food.
Alice nodded and walked slowly toward Marco, who was scooping more eggs onto a plate.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
“I guess.”
She led him out to the stairs, pacing back and forth as he leaned on the wall with his arms crossed.
“I’m sorry that I lied to you,” she said after a few minutes. “I shouldn’t have gone out as angry as I was, I just…I had to do something. Still it wasn’t right. I let my anger get the better of me and it won’t happen again, I swear.”
He continued to look at the floor, his long face tense.
“Say something, please.”
“Mrs. Frost said you had a good talk.”
Her nodded. “Yes. Thank you for calling her.”
“Have you seen your uncle?”
“No. I called the hospital before I left Mrs. Frost’s, they said there was no change. I was going to go over later today. Marco—”
“I don’t know what to say,” he said, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “I know finding your uncle in that state must’ve been the worst thing, but if you’re going to be the Serpent, you can’t let it get to you like that.”
“I’m trying,” she said, frustration adding an edge to her voice. “Going out by myself like that was a poor decision—”
“Yeah, you could’ve gotten killed — or worse!”
Marco pushed away from the wall and walked toward her. The intensity of emotion on his face and in the tense lines of his body was surprising to Alice. She’d rarely seen him so angry.
“And you know what? I’m kicking myself this morning because I knew you were lying to me, I just knew it! The way you gave up when Lionel and I said we wouldn’t go with you, it was too easy. You’re far more stubborn than that. But I ignored my instincts, because you’d never lied to me before.”
“You could’ve gone out and looked for me if you were that worried.”
“I wanted to but…”
She took a few steps toward him. “What?”
His gaze, full of fire and something else, held hers with an intensity she’d never felt from him before. Alice had a sudden, insane desire to throw her arms around him and kiss those thin lips of his. Her eyes darted to them, a fine sprinkling of dark stubble on his chin and upper lip gave him a rumpled look. It was as enticing as it was charming.
Marco’s arms twitched, as if he wanted to embrace her, but instead, he lifted one hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Alice’s breath sped up. She could feel the warmth from his body, see the lean, hard muscles under the white button-up shirt he wore.
“What happened?” His voice was so gentle.
Alice shook her head. “I don’t...”
“Tell me, please?”
With a deep, shuddering breath she described the fight with Pockmark and Knife-guy. It was easier this time, and when she came to the part about her aunt’s murderer, instead of being afraid to tell Marco, she felt the rage building. The words tumbled out, and when she got to the end, her body shook a little.
“I try to believe Mrs. Frost,” she said after a few minutes. “That I stopped because I’m a good person, a hero but…”
Marco reached out and pulled her close, his hand running up and down her back.
“Even heroes are human. I doubt I’d have done better in your place.”
It was exactly what she needed to hear. Alice sighed and let her body mold itself against him. She would’ve stayed like that all day if he’d let her, basking in the warmth of his body and gentleness.
Marco started to pull away, but Alice held him fast.
“Not yet, please?”
Marco paused. “Alright.”
Alice could feel his muscles under her small hands as they ran up and down his back. She felt his lips brush the top of her head, then his cheek resting there. His hand cupped the back of her head, and the other settled in the middle of her back.
Desire bloomed in her stomach, it’s heat spreading lower. She wanted to know what it was like to feel Marco’s lips under hers. The heat of his body tight against hers. What would his long, elegant hands feel like on her bare skin?
This is Marco, not Lionel. Snap out of it! He’s just...he’s...
“I think,” Marco said, his voice rough. “That we should go back inside. Your breakfast will be cold.”
She looked up at him.
His lips were so close, all she had to do was tip her head a little and...
Wait! What if I ruin it all?
She leaned away, her arms falling away from him.
“Yes, we should. Lionel will be wondering if everything’s okay.”
Marco’s smile was tight.
“Yes, he will.”
He held the door open for her. The moment they were inside, they went to opposite sides of the room, Marco to the kitchen and Alice to the large windows that overlooked the city, where she tried to shove aside what just happened.<
br />
I’m tired and my defenses are down.
Chancing a glance out of the corner of her eye, Alice looked at Marco as he moved around the kitchen. She could still feel his hands on her, the press of his chest against hers. That same desire gave a little squirm in her stomach.
Tired...right?
“Everything...?” Lionel asked, looking from one to the other.
“It’s fine,” they said in unison.
Lionel stared at them a moment longer and shrugged. “Okay.”
Marco set a plate of warmed eggs and toast down at the table. Alice wasn’t remotely hungry, but thought she should at least try to eat something.
“With everything that happened at the newspaper yesterday,” Lionel said when she’d sat down at the table. “We haven’t heard how your meeting with Victoria went.”
Alice took a sip of the scalding coffee and dived in, grateful to no longer be talking about last night.
As she told them everything she and Mrs. Frost had uncovered, their expressions became increasingly worried.
“And you’re sure about this?” Marco asked.
“As much as I didn’t want to be — yes. You remember the man I saw at the warehouse that was filled with Fantasy a few weeks back? He wasn’t just at Victoria’s house, he was at the foundation too. He’d referenced Phantasm at the warehouse. Something is going on there, but...well, I think I ruined any element of surprise by showing up there last night.”
Marco nodded. “And Victoria may now know that you’ve figured out who she is.”
“Do you think she’d come straight at you, if that’s the case?” Lionel asked, his hands flexing into and out of fists.
“I have no idea. The more immediate problem is what she’s going to do with the Fantasy gas.”
“And how we can stop her,” Marco added.
Alice yawned, her head starting to throb.
“Agreed. We need a list of possible targets.”
“If she’s trying to get the support of the police, maybe she’d hit them?” Lionel suggested.
Marco shook his head, eyes hooded as he frowned in concentration.
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