“Howperfect,” said another voice, vaguely familiar—this one belonging to a man in a white mask wearing the only red robe in the room, marking him as the ostensible leader. “The secret affair was just revealed, and the aggrieved lover comes crashing in moments later to try to save her.”
“Gallway…” Rawlins said, making the connection in his mind.
“It’s quite fortunate,” Gallway said. “We were wondering how much she might have told you about her suspicions. And now we don’t need to worry.”
Rawlins’s mind raced, attempting to calculate a way through this. Pleading for mercy was pointless. He needed leverage; power was the only language they would understand.
“I have evidence,” Rawlins said, trying to sound confident. “An email that will go out tonight, if I don’t cancel it. Laying out your connection to murders going backyears.” He looked around, trying to see if this was working. “But if you just let her go, I’ll delete it. All of it. She won’t say anything, and you can have me instead.”
There was silence for a moment, then Gallway chuckled. “What do you think, Max? Did your old professor have the foresight to prepare an elaborate unsent email before rushing over here?”
“He never thought much of anyone else’s intelligence,” said Max. “But I never imagined he’d take me forthatstupid.”
Rawlins swallowed hard, his throat dry, mind reaching for any other stratagem. “Sorry, Tad,” Gallway said. “Whatever you know—and whatever secrets you two kept—will be buried right here in this room.”
Gallway gestured proudly to their surroundings, and Rawlins looked around, taking in the grandiosity of the Banestooth Club’s secret ritual chamber.No basementindeed, he thought, remembering the words Ellsbeth had written beside the architectural drawings…
And with the recollection of her note came another image: the measurements she had made on the blueprints. Theradiusshe had drawn. For a ritual circle of her own.
He wasn’t sure what the ritual was that she had planned—or if she had gotten a chance to enact it. He looked at Ellsbeth again. Herpainfully restrained body looked helpless, yes, and there was terror in her eyes—but that was not all. A ferocity was there, too. She had not given up. And he wouldn’t, either.
“Would you like to do the honors, Max?” said Gallway.
Rawlins thought that he saw a moment’s hesitation in his son, but Max hid it quickly behind bravado. “My pleasure.” He advanced on Rawlins, knife flashing in the candlelight.
Rawlins pushed himself up to his knees, holding out his hands. “Max, wait…”
But his son was undeterred, hand tightening on his weapon. “You deserve this.”
“I know I do, but…it’s better if it’s slower.” Rawlins looked at Gallway. “Isn’t that right? The ritual works more effectively if you draw it out. Make it hurt. Make her suffer, emotionally.”
Gallway nodded, puzzled by this response. “It’s true. Which is why it’s fortunate that you showed up. So she can watch you die.”
“Let me ask her something first,” Rawlins pleaded. “I just want to ask one question.”
Max darkened. “You’re about to die…and the only thing you want…is to askhera question?”
Rawlins nodded. Bitter rage clouded Max’s features, and he pulled the weapon back, readying to slash it across his father’s throat, and Rawlins quickly spoke again: “Are you really that scared to hear what I’ll say?” Max hesitated, and Rawlins pressed him further. “Youknowthe ritual works better if you make it last…but you’re so wounded, soafraid…you can’t bring yourself to do it.”
Max lowered the weapon, his pride wounded, and spat the words, “Fine. Ask your question.”
Rawlins looked at Ellsbeth, locking his gaze onto her across the room. “I just need to know…was it real?”
Max smirked. “That’s it? The last seconds of your life…and you want to know if your little girlfriend really loved you?”
“That’s all,” Rawlins said. “You need her to be in pain for the ritual, right? Suffering? Well, let her tell me if she loves me or not…and let her say goodbye.”
Ellsbeth moaned through the gag. Max looked her way, hatred burning in his eyes. “Let’s hear it, then.”
One of the Initiates ripped the tape off Ellsbeth’s mouth and pulled out the gag. She spat on the floor, working her tongue, and Rawlins could have sworn that he saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at her lips before a single ragged word spilled from her mouth:
“Licorice.”
Ellsbeth
A few of the blades slipped to the floor with a metallic clang, but some of them just hung limply in the hands of the boys standing around the circle, who had all gone limp as ragdolls.
Paul Gallway’s eyes behind the white mask were hazy and unfocused.
