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“It’s a protest, of sorts,” I say. “Adrian’s been trying to figure out how to crash this party for years. Vas Pharma is the worst of the worst when it comes to these kinds of companies. Charging thousands of dollars for insulin, that sort of thing. And the Wolrath family has personally funded massive disinformation campaigns against universal healthcare in the US.”

“And how will crashing a party stop all that?”

I roll my eyes. “It won’t, not directly. We want to get in there and film what’s going on. Make a scene, get ourselves arrested⁠—”

“You want to get arrested?” Confusion creases Victor’s brow, and I grin. His naiveté is almost charming.

“It wouldn’t keep,” I say. “We’ve got a lawyer who helps us out with shit like this. But if we get arrested, it becomes a big news story, and that means more people will hear about what a piece of shit Nicholas Wolrath is.”

“I don’t see how that could work.” Victor’s eyes burn hotly against mine. “The Wolraths know how to get away with murder.”

He definitely sounds like he’s speaking from experience there, but I also get the sense, with the way his face has become so dark and guarded, that he’s not going to answer any questions about it.

“No one’s getting murdered,” I say. “Adrian and I are going to swan in there like we belong and then engage in some light property damage.”

Victor leans back in his chair, still watching me.

“Of course,” I say carefully, “that’s all contingent on me getting to Clifwell before Halloween night.”

I hold my breath. I’d thought I’d try to hold out a little longer before asking about leaving, but it felt like too good an opportunity, especially since Victor clearly doesn’t think too highly of the Wolrath family.

“Yes,” Victor says softly. “I suppose that’s true.”

I arch an eyebrow, waiting for him.

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” he says.

I slump down. “Halloween is in a week!”

“Which gives you plenty of time.” Victor stands up abruptly and stacks the plates from our dinner. The clank of the ceramic makes me jump a little. “You can sleep in the bed tonight. I’ll fetch your phone—” He looks over at me, pinning me with his gaze. “You can send a message to your mother. No one human.”

I swallow, feeling nervous again. I shouldn’t have brought up leaving. Maybe I can get his guard down and sneak out, hitchhike into Avens like I planned.

Yeah, fucking right. He’ll hear me from half a mile away. No, I just need to play nice and try again.

Besides, whatever shifted in him—I don’t think it was me.

I think it was Nicholas Wolrath.

10

VICTOR

My head buzzes as I walk across the courtyard to the back room of the Gas and Go. The name Wolrath thumps in my thoughts, over and over. It’s been decades since I heard that name, decades since I even let myself think it.

And a Wolrath was living four hours from me? All this fucking time?

The wind picks up again, leaving the night feeling cold and blustery and wild.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” I mutter the words in English, a taboo I was told never to break. When I don’t get an answer, I repeat the question in the old tongue, the syllables sticking to the roof of my mouth.

The wind blows wildly in response, throwing the tree branches around. I don’t know how to take it, if it’s a coincidence, if it’s all the gods are going to offer me.

“I’m going to kill him,” I say to the wild, turbulent night. Nicholas Wolrath. There’s a very high likelihood that he’s an ancestor of Albert Wolrath, the human man who tortured and killed the first Mary. My Mary.

I slam into the back room, and the sudden stillness throws me off-kilter. For a moment, I even forget the throbbing, angry need for blood because I sense Penelope’s presence behind me in the house. She hasn’t tried to escape, which I half-expected. I suppose she knows she won’t get far on foot.

The CCTV monitors glow softly, their black-and-white screens turning the room blue. The Gas and Go is empty, locked up from when I thought I was going to be spending time with a Mary instead of⁠—