Lux sniffed. “He was wrong. To imply that about you.”
She startled at Shaw’s laugh, deep and incredulous. “You think—”
His thought broke abruptly, and it was her turn now to stare. His strong jaw was unfashionably rough as it upturned once more to the moon, his mask aglow beneath the cold light. She noticed his hair mussed from dancing—or perhaps she’d done that, burying her fingers in the thickness of it. She fidgeted against the ache building inside her.Devil’s own tits but am I a mess.
She burrowed further into his coat. “What sort ofsecretdo you think my aunt is sharing with the mayor at the moment?”
“Well… Power does draw people.”
“Not me.” She scoffed in disgust. “Never me.”
Chapter eighteen
Lux didn’t want togo home. Riselda’s inevitable presence later that night or the following morning only solidified her decision. She didn’t tell Shaw this plan, however.
They didn’t speak much on the carriage ride to his apartment, each occupied by their own worries, own theories, and own schemes. But when the door opened, when he descended the step, when he turned his gaze back to her, she watched the shadows in his eyes fade beneath the moonlight. She never thought she would see him without them, and yet the emotion staring back at her puzzled her, for his clearly whirled with confusion.
“Will you be all right?”
She laughed mildly, shaking her head. “I don’t have a choice.” When the conflicting emotions in his eyes only deepened, she continued, “Thank you for your help tonight.”
He sighed. “I only wish we’d had more time.” She nodded her agreement. “And I truly am sorry. For the kiss.”
Shoulders stiffening, she retreated against the cushioned seat. “It was nothing. No need to apologize.”
He mimicked her earlier laugh. “Right. Well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The door clicked closed, and she sagged into the seat. It was so far from nothing, she couldn’t believe the lie had managed to leave her lips without wounding her. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breaths returning to normal. The carriage jerked forward. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt even a semblance of what Shaw sent bounding through her as his lips touched hers. Lux twitched, her brow furrowing.
She couldn’t recall. She couldn’t remember.
Because she had forced herself to forget.
The boards nailed tothe windows protruded at odd angles, faded and warped. The ones covering the door were much the same, aside from the jagged bits—a reminder that more than one unwelcome visitor had forced their entry. Lux’s blood chilled, her heart skipping and irregular, spots dancing in her vision.
She needed to unlock her knees. She needed to step forward.
But her body wouldn’t obey.
Her breath puffed cool clouds into the surrounding air, her skin prickling with cold, and yet she still stared at the scratched and faded door.
Her door. Her parents’ door. Go in.
Go in. Go in. Go in.
She hadn’t. Not since that night. Not since she’d found them lying in warm, wet pools of blood, their hands entwined as tightly in death as their hearts had been in life. How she had loved them. How she missed them still.
Tears pricked at her eyes only to be whisked away by the wind. And finally,finally, her knees released. Lux stepped forward,arm outstretched, panic rising in her chest and threatening to carve out her consciousness entirely. She forced it back.
The doorknob was cold; it burned her palm. She turned it quickly before she could think better of it, and with a push, the door creaked inward. More darkness.
She really should have chosen to do this in the daylight.
Ducking beneath the lone intact board running slanted across the top of the frame, Lux stepped into her home—and into her memories.
The door had been unmarked that night; closed without sign of forced entry. She had opened it softly. She had been so tired. The other children knew of her bizarre fascination with death. As a child, herself, she hadn’t thought to keep it secret. She was thrilled over her newly discovered brilliance, having only been realized the day of her aunt’s sudden disappearance. When she’d first touchedThe Risen.
