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“I fucking shared her with you.”
“To keep me under control. You think I don’t know that?”
I step toward him, and he to me. A repeat of the other night.
“Because you wanted her,” I say.
“And maybe she wanted me? A little at least? Is that what burns you up?”
My hands fist.
“Can’t stand hearing that, can you? Well, don’t do me any more fucking favors, brother. You keep her. For now. It’s the rule. But when my turn comes, if you haven’t burned your mark into her skin—and don’t fucking tell me the thought of it doesn’t make your dick hard because it sure does mine—well, let’s just say I’ll keep to the rules too. I’ll take her. And I’ll fucking break her and you’ll both wish you’d been the one to do it because when I’m done with her, there will be nothing left. Nothing.”19HelenaGregory is gone when I get downstairs later that night. His place isn’t set for dinner and one of the boats is missing. Sebastian looks like he’s on his second bottle of whiskey, just sitting there watching the fire, refilling his glass.
I slip into the seat beside his. Gregory’s seat.
“Where is he?”
He doesn’t look away from the fire, just shrugs a shoulder.
“You fought?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Over me?”
“Over a lot of things.” He turns to me, gives me a smile that’s the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. “And he was right.”
“Right about what?”
“Everything. Ethan. You. Me.” He shakes his head. “He must hate me. And I deserve his hate.”
“No, you don’t,” I reach out, touch his hand.
It’s like he doesn’t even feel it.
“You’re right, too, Helena. This whole thing, it destroys us as much as it destroys you.”
“Sebastian—”
“The Willow Girl. Taking her. This insane covenant, it leads to our destruction as much as yours.” He picks up the bottle of whiskey to pour himself some more, splashes the liquid on the table. “You know we stopped once.”
“Maybe it’s enough,” I say, trying to take the bottle away. He’s had too much already.
He pulls it back. “I’ll say when it’s enough.”
“Sebastian—”
“Two generations didn’t do it. That’s when we started dying. That’s when the first-born son started to die.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Used to be four of us. The Willow Girl would serve four brothers over four years. But when they didn’t take a girl, it was like we cursed our own line.”
“You can’t believe that.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s recorded, actually. From the beginning. If the Scafoni sons fail to uphold their end of the bargain, they’re punished. It’s to keep it going. To never forget our duty.”
“Sebastian, you know that makes no sense.”
“Timothy and me being twins, it’s the first time that’s happened. Maybe, since we’ve been taking Willow Girls…maybe the curse is finished. Maybe we paid.”
“Curse?” Doesn’t he hear how ridiculous this sounds?
“Maybe my sons will survive.”
I snort, shake my head. “To carry on this sick tradition?” I get up, walk away. “To destroy more lives?”
“You destroy us too, remember that.” He puts his glass down on the table and rises. “Walk with me.”
He doesn’t give me a choice but takes my hand, weaves his fingers through it and we walk.
“Where are we going?” I ask, pulling back when he doesn’t answer, when I realize where he’s taking me. “Sebastian?”
“Mausoleum.”
I stop. “Why?”
“You know why.”
I try to pull free. “No. I don’t want to go there.”
“You’ve been there already. Even though I told you that you weren’t allowed.”
I don’t answer, he’s not expecting me to.
“I want to show you something,” he says.
“I don’t like it there, Sebastian.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Helena.”
The way he’s looking at me, I don’t know if it’s the liquor or what, but it’s intense and a little scary, actually.
“Let’s go tomorrow. During the day.”
He almost chuckles at that. “They’re ghosts, Helena. They can’t touch you.”
We walk on, because it’s no point arguing with him. If he wants me to be there, I’m going to be there. He’ll carry me kicking and screaming if he has to.
I see the glow of the red light as we near the clearing and I swear the angel’s visible eye shines in the moonlight.
We walk past the entrance to the main room, though, like I know we will. He walks me around the side of the building and takes out his phone, shines it on the gate of the entrance around the back.
The lock is lying on the ground. I wonder if it had fallen off after I’d run away from here. If he thinks it was me, he doesn’t say anything but pulls the chain out and opens both gates wide. He shines his light inside.
“What’s down there?”
“What you read about in your Aunt Helena’s journal.”
He takes my hand, the one with the ring. “This doesn’t belong to you.”
I feel that strange sensation again, that burning where Cain Scafoni’s bone circles my finger.
