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Simon moves closer, his crystal blue eyes full of concern. “Cat?”
… it could be you.
Crawling back, I angle away from the bloody patch until I bump against the base of the statue. I turn and grab on to its squared edge like I’m falling off a cliff, pressing my cheek against the cool marble. Simon approaches again, this time slower, and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“What was done to her wasn’t new, was it?” I ask. “He did the same thing to Perrete and Ysabel. You just didn’t tell us.”
Simon nods. “I’m sorry. There were some things I wasn’t willing to put into words.” He bends down and grasps my upper arm gently. “Come on. You need to get up. We’re not done yet.”
I allow him to pull me to my feet. A number of lanterns and candles gather at a distance. Several guards have arrived, some staring dumbly, others trying to herd people back like a flock of sheep eyeing a fresh pasture. Simon walks around the body, holding his light low to the ground, like he’s searching for something.
“It’s not here,” he mutters after making a full circle. Then he kneels, careful to avoid the bloody ground, and tilts her misshapen head to the side. “Her hair is gone,” he says softly enough that only I can hear.
“You were looking for Ysabel’s,” I say, understanding now.
Simon stands again and comes closer, keeping his voice low. “Yes. I think leaving hair from the last victim behind is something he feels he needs to do. Discarding the old as you said.” He frowns, the narrowing of his brow exaggerated by the shadows cast from the lantern. “If that’s true, it’s very bad that it’s not here now.”
It’s certainly not good, but I feel like I’m missing something. “Why?”
He gestures at the body. “You interrupted the killer before he could finish what he’d started.”
My face tingles as I blanch with anxiety. “Do you think that means he’ll kill again soon?”
Simon nods. “Maybe even tonight.”
I slump against the marble pedestal. This is my fault. The woman lying here was already dead, but if I’d brought the guard here rather than run screaming myself, there was a chance we could’ve captured him. Instead, I’ve doomed another woman to this monster’s sick need.
“We need to find out who she is,” I say dully. “Madame Emeline will probably know.”
“I agree.” Simon calls for one of the guards to fetch her. Then he sets the lantern down and leans against the base of the statue next to me.
“Why did you come out tonight, Cat?” he asks quietly. “You of all people knew how dangerous it was.”
How can I explain? He would never believe it. SometimesIdon’t believe it, and I certainly don’t understand it. “I wasn’t looking for trouble,” I whisper. “I was on the Sanctum.”
“Inspecting?”
“No.” I lean my head back against the pedestal and close my eyes. “Just looking at the moon.”
To my relief, Simon doesn’t ask any more questions. The minutes pass slowly, and the crowd gathering around the temple grows. After a time, Simon slides his hand across the marble to find mine. When I don’t resist, he laces my fingers with his. It feels like an apology, but I’m not sure what for. Maybe forcing me to see the full horror of what this man—this monster—does, or for not telling me in the first place. Maybe for being angry when he found me here tonight.
The watchman is returning. Simon lets go of my hand and stands upright. I, too, push off the pedestal to meet them, but it’s not Emeline who walks with the guard. It’s Remi.
Simon frowns. “Where’s Madame Emeline?”
Remi’s shadowed eyes focus on me. “She’s dead.”
