“That’s right,” he rasped in my ear, “William Abrams Porter. Do you find it ironic that your mother blessed the man who’s going to kill you?” He laughed. “I do.”
Darkness rushed in, and my body went limp as I lost consciousness.
***
The light was fading. I struggled to open my eyes and peered through the domed glass ceiling. Thick vines climbed the walls, reaching toward the sky, their tangled stalks obstructing the last rays of evening sun and casting the circular chamber in shadow. Beneath me, dried leaves and dead plants created a cushion on the stone floor. He’d taken me to the palace greenhouse. The one we’d searched days earlier with Theo. Remote. Isolated. The perfect location for a murder.
I remained still, getting my bearings, but my attention was diverted at the scrape of a chain threading through an iron handle. Abrams was on the other side of the glass, testing the chain on a door. Satisfied, he circled around the edge of the building.
Only one other way out, behind me.
I scrambled to my feet, not surprised to find my hands tied behind my back. The move made me bend at the waist as a wave of dizziness threatened to send me back to the ground. I breathed steadily through my nose and twisted my wrists, trying to regain feeling in my fingers.
“Good! The witch is awake.” Abrams stepped through the door that led deeper into the greenhouse. “Don’t you like it here? My mother did—at least, that’s what they tell me. It was kept a lot nicer back then. Sorry I couldn’t find a place that reeked less of abandonment, but that is the theme we’re going for.” He locked the door behind him and held up a key. “There, now we’re settled in.”
“Why did you bring me here? You could have killed me back at Vivian’s.”
He angled his head, sending a curly lock of hair into his eye. “Is that how you wanted to die? On the floor of a shop?” He shrugged. “I thought lying inside a glass house, on a bed of vines, with your hair spread out around you and a rose clutched between your fingers was more romantic.”
“You’re sick.”
“And you’re exhausting. We wouldn’t be here right now if you’d removed yourself from the case after I left that gift on your back step.”
Finally regaining life in my fingers, I curled them into fists and channeled my magic. Heat grew in my palms, but it wasn’t hot enough to burn the rope. I needed more time. Had to keep him talking.
“Did you really think a glass slipper and a note was enough to scare me away?”
“Maybe not you, but I thought you might get kicked off the case. Detective Chambers has a protective streak when it comes to you. I figured if I threatened the witch, he’d send you packing. He wouldn’t want to risk losing someone else he cared about.”
I backed up, shoes crunching over brittle leaves, and refocused my magic. “Why the roses, Abrams? Don’t you think you owe me that much?”
“Curious, witch?” He stalked across the chamber and tore at the vines, ripping them away from the wall to uncover a thorny bush with a single bloom. The crimson Aster Mauve rose was a splash of color among the thorns and dried foliage. Abrams cut the stem with a pocket knife and breathed in the fragrant scent, then set it aside on a stone bench. “It’s the last one. How lucky for you. My mother cherished those roses. They represented beauty, vitality, and yet, their thorns drew blood. When you cut a rose it dies, turns brittle. The beauty fades and it loses its power. I thought it seemed fitting to leave them behind. I wanted to show everyone how easy it was to snuff out an existance. A simple snip.”
My stomach rolled at his callous explanation. “What happened to Diane? Why the other girls?” The heat burned up my wrists, making my teeth clench, but it was working. Only a little longer.
“My mother died when I was a child, and since I had no viable claim to the throne, my aunt tossed me away. But, I knew I deserved better. I was a king’s son, no matter the order of my birth. I grew up obsessed with the brother who had it all. I got hired as a stable hand at the king’s hunting lodge to be closer to him, and that’s where I met Sophie. Sweet, beautiful Sophie.”
My insides clenched at the way he said her name. His eyes unfocused, and a half-smile curved his mouth.
“For a little while, everything was different. I loved her. I wanted her.”
“But she didn’t want you?”
Abrams snarled and prowled closer. I stumbled backward, tripping on a vine.
“She wanted him. They all do! My brother with the royal title. Luck personified. Sophie had been mine until he showed the barest of interest in her. All of it, our letters, the secret encounters, they meant nothing after a single glance from his direction.”
A realization formed, and my mind snagged on a memory. “You still have those letters, don’t you? They’re the ones you mentioned at the memorial dinner. You joked about hiding them.”
He clapped, slow, the sound echoing in the chamber. “Very good, Miss Daniels. You would have made a good detective.”
“So, you killed her because she spurned you?”
“I killed her because she laughed at me when I told her I was as good as him.”
“She was sixteen!”
His boots pounded across the stone. Another step, then two. Fear constricted my chest. Abrams kept coming even when I tripped, landing hard on my backside. His rangy form towered over me.
