CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Gabriel?”

The sun flashed, as it had done earlier, and I was again plunged into night. This time there were lights everywhere, the Villa glowing with them. Music poured from the open windows. Not ethereal fae music, but the sounds of a string quartet. I could hear chatter and laughter, too, human in origin. The house was whole and new, sparkling in the moonlight. Figures walked down the curving steps.

“Oh my,” a girlish voice said. “Thank goodness Nathaniel installed an elevator. I only wish it was working already.”

Two other feminine voices laughed with her. They turned a curve into the moonlight. None looked older than me. All three were wearing gorgeous Empire-waisted dresses. The one in the middle was no more than twenty, with finger-curled blond hair. She’d referred to Nathaniel Mills by his given name, which left little doubt who this was. His bride, Letitia Roosevelt.

But if my history was right, Letitia had never spent a night in this house. She . . .

I looked up at the Villa again, the lights blazing, music and laughter pouring out.

It’s Letitia’s grand welcoming party. The first time she saw the house her husband built. And the last time she sees it, because . . .

I wheeled and stared at the swimming pool. Then I turned back to the three girls.

“No,” I said. “You can’t—”

They stepped right through me, still chattering and giggling.

“Aren’t you glad we pulled you away from that dull party?” said one of Letitia’s companions—a dark-haired beauty with perfect skin and bright blue eyes.

“I know we’re glad to meet you,” the other said. “The social life here is as dull as that party. I’m sure the three of us can liven it up.” She was light-haired and green-eyed, as strikingly beautiful as her friend. “Oh! Is that the pool?”

“It is,” Letitia said. “There’s a bathhouse over there.”

“Are there any suits?” the brunette asked.

The light-haired girl giggled. “Do we need them?”

Letitia turned bright red. The other two giggled, and she tried to shake off her embarrassment. Whatever the time period, no girl wants to seem uncool in front of her new friends.

“Don’t listen to her,” the brunette said. “We’d never do anything so shocking.” She grinned. “Not when there’s a house full of people close by.” She walked to the pool, lifted her skirt, and lowered herself beside the water. Then she dangled her fingers and let out an exclamation. “It’s warm! What magic has your handsome groom wrought to accomplish that?”

“There’s a heating system of some sort,” Letitia said. “I don’t quite understand it.”

“Who cares?” said the light-haired girl. “If it makes swimming water warm at night, it is the best kind of magic.” She tugged off pointy, low-heeled shoes and then reached under her skirt. She paused and looked at Letitia. “You won’t be shocked if I remove my stockings, will you?”

“Not if that’s all you remove,” the brunette said with a laugh. There was something about that laugh . . . a tinkling music almost too low for the ear to detect.

They’re fae.

“No,” I said.

I hurried over to the two girls, the light-haired one now sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in. The brunette swished her hand back and forth in the water, and under the surface, seaweed swirled about her hand, like the spats on a horse.

“Come here, Letty,” the light-haired girl called. “Sit with us.”

“Look at the water,” her companion said. “Isn’t it marvelous.”

They reached out their hands as Letitia walked over.

“No!” I said, jumping between them. I turned to the brunette. “Don’t do this. She’s not responsible. He is.”

I knew it was pointless. These were only phantasms, memories. But the brunette met my gaze, and she smiled, a terrible and beautiful smile.

“We know who is responsible. And this is how we repay him. Take from him as he took from us. That is our way. Death is quick. Regret is not.”

I remembered Gabriel saying almost the same thing, first to the men in the parking garage, then to James. Letitia walked through me and took the young women’s hands.

“Shall we go for a swim?” the light-haired one said.

“What?” Letitia forced a ragged laugh and pulled back. “You are really quite amusing, but I ought to go—” When the women didn’t release her, she said, “This isn’t funny. Please let me go.”

They opened their hands, but her fingers remained stuck to theirs.

“Wh-what?” she said, backpedaling uselessly.

“We’re taking you for a swim, pretty Letty. A swim in your new pool.”

They wrapped their arms around her and leapt, and as they did, their gowns puddled at their feet and their hair tumbled from its pins, cascading over their bare backs, pitch-black now on one, glowing white on the other. The brunette’s skin darkened, too, turning as black as her hair. Their bodies thickened, necks lengthening, as they transformed.

I raced to the pool edge. It didn’t matter that it would do no good. I shouted at the kelpies to stop.

They dove into the water with Letitia trapped between them, flailing wildly. Even after the water closed over them, I still heard her screaming. Down they went, so fast and so deep that I was certain the pool bottom was a mirage, that it somehow opened into the lake itself. Otherwise—

The kelpies hit the bottom and they kept going, right through it, vanishing. But Letitia did not. Instead, her body jolted and a red flume of blood swirled up, suffusing the water, spreading out in crimson tendrils.

She floated to the top, her pale blue dress billowing around her. Blood kept pumping from her crushed skull, an impossible amount of blood, the water darkening with it. She floated there, her hair and dress swirling around her. Then she dropped out of sight into the bloody depths.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Why?” said a voice beside me. I looked over to see the little girl. “This is how we repay death. We know no other way. We have no understanding of mercy.”

“I do.”

She cocked her head. “I misspoke, then. They have no understanding of mercy. We may . . . and yet we would do the same. It is in our blood. We answer fire with fire. Blood with blood. In our hearts, there is no other way. Protect those we hold dear. The rest can fall to ash and dust.”

“I’m still sorry,” I said. “For her.”

“But are you sorry for him?”

She waved at the house. Nathaniel Mills was leaning over the top railing, scanning the garden for his missing wife. I looked at him, and it was as the girl said. I understood that I should feel pity. And I did not. He’d earned this fate the day he ordered those fires.

“How does one fight fire?” whispered a voice beside me. I turned to see the dark-haired kelpie, in human form now. She reached out and traced a dripping-wet finger across my cheek. “With water. Fitting, don’t you think?”

I wanted to retreat from her touch, but I found myself transfixed by her eyes. I saw the blue fire ripping through this field, and other fields and forests, iron circles and dying fae.

“They scream in pain, but they never scream for mercy,” the kelpie said. “They know it does no good. The fae learned that lesson from humans, and this is how we pay it back.”

She dove into the pool. Except there was no blood in it. Little water, even, only a foot or two in the bottom, filthy and bloated with dead leaves.

“Is it over?” Gabriel asked.

I nodded.

“What did you see?”

“They killed her. Letitia Roosevelt. Kelpies did.”

My gaze lifted to the fountains on the hill. Nathaniel Mills had murdered fae and yet he’d had them carved in stone to decorate his home. They’d had their revenge. Killed his wife, drove him away, let the house fall to ruin, reclaimed by nature.

“Hopefully, that means the visions are over, and we can finally do what we came here to do.”

“You mean what we were brought here to do,” Gabriel said.

I started back up the stairs. “Yes, someone brought us here, and from what the girl says, it’s not for tea and crumpets, but it’s not to hurt us, either.”

“Yes, I believe that’s exactly what she said. Whatever you find here will hurt—”

“Me. Just me. Which means it’s my choice, right?”

“And my opinion on the matter carries no weight.”

With every word, his voice chilled ten degrees.

“You know it does,” I said as I continued climbing. “Hell, sometimes yours carries more than my own. But when it comes to matters of personal safety, you can be . . .”

I trailed off, and we made it all the way to the top terrace before he said, as if through clenched teeth, “Overprotective?”

“We’ve both been through a lot,” I said carefully as I turned to face him. “I think that might lead us to overestimate the threat level—”

“Really?” His shades were off, ice-cold eyes boring into mine. “After all this, you think it’s possible to overestimate the threat level?”

You’re pushing him away. Don’t do this.

I took a deep breath. “I can’t leave not knowing what I was supposed to find.”

“Yes, you can. You can return to the car and wait there while I search the house.”

“And what in God’s name has ever led you to believe that I’d go hide in the car while you do this for me? I am not some—”

I cut myself short and turned away, my arms crossing as I fought to regain my temper. I didn’t want to fight about this. I really didn’t.

So what do I want?

To have him agree I should search and accompany me into that house.

Isn’t that as unreasonable as what he wants?

There was no middle ground here. I wanted what I wanted, and damn him if he didn’t give it to me.

I exhaled, let my arms fall to my sides, and turned. “I’m sorry. I—”

Gabriel wasn’t there.

I looked about, expecting to see the scenery changed, the house new again, some sign of a vision . . .

Then I spotted his back, as he walked into the house.

“Damn you, Gabriel,” I muttered, and took off after him.