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Russo smiled fondly at Rochefort, and the fae-in-disguise nodded back. So polite. So gracious. So full of lies.
Then we were to assume Lord Rochefort had squirreled me away for fifteen years and paid for my treatment. Regardless of the fact this was all fantasy, why would a lord do such a thing? Did Russo not see the ruse? Could he not sense the otherworldly creature standing beside him? Was everyone here mad except me?
It didn’t matter.
None of it mattered.
I was here to prove Rochefort’s kind sponsorship had cured me of my lunacy and go free. These next few moments would dictate whether I got my life back.
“You have been much improved of late, Valentine,” Russo said. “Lord Rochefort and I have agreed to a change of scenery for you. We believe this might help you recover from your illness.”
“But I am recovered.”
Russo’s smug smile turned pitying. “The last time I perused your records, you were not a doctor of the mind, Mr. Anzio. I’ll be the judge of progress, not you.”
No, but I am an investigator of the mind. I am that. And somehow, I’ve become trapped in a web of lies spun by that creature standing beside you.
“Let’s leave the assessment to the professional, no?”
“Of course.” Bile burned the back of my throat.
Russo leaned back in his creaking chair and Rochefort stepped forward. He moved like silk, all smooth and graceful. Inhuman. How did Russo not see it?
“It’s good to see you looking so well, Mr. Anzio. I see Doctor Russo has been putting my investment to good use. But it seems your recovery has stalled somewhat, and you’re so close to a breakthrough that I’d like to invite you to spend some time at Rochefort Manor with me.”
Back into that viper’s den? I swallowed and looked up at the lord. This whole charade was pathetic. I saw the truth, and he knew it. But I’d play the damn game if it meant I’d see Devere again. “That sounds delightful.”
“Good.” Rochefort’s smile slithered across his lips. Russo couldn’t see the tiny points of his sharp canine teeth, but I could. Perhaps this time, at one of his dinners, I’d get my hand on the silver cutlery and stab him through the heart for real. “Your belongings are being packed as we speak. I assume there is nothing here you wish to take with you?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s settled, then. You’ll be riding in my carriage with me.”
I flashed him a brilliant smile. “Delightful.” If he attempted to assault me, I’d bite his wretched cock off.
“While I have no doubt Doctor Russo has cared for you as best he can, I think you will find life with me far more agreeable than your time here.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will.”
Rochefort nodded to the guards behind me. “Bring him to my carriage.”
I stood and straightened my hospital overalls. “May I dress more appropriately for travel?”
“No need. Your every need will be met once we arrive at Rochefort Manor,” Rochefort said, striding out of the room.
Russo thrust out his hand, presumably for me to shake. “Don’t fuck this up, Valentine.”
Something sharp glinted in his eye as I took his hand in mine and shook with pretend glee. I couldn’t be sure if the sharpness was spite or fear. The guards whisked me out of the room and, within minutes, escorted me from the asylum doors, down rain-soaked steps, and into Rochefort’s gleaming carriage.
The change of scenery overexposed my senses and spun my thoughts. Rochefort thumped his cane on the carriage roof and away it jolted. Just moments ago, I’d been a prisoner, and I still was, but in a very different way.
“Do not fret, Valentine. You are perfectly safe with me.”
If I called him out as a monster, or made any reference to the truth, would he turn the carriage around again and take me back? I did not want that. I wanted to see Minerva, the toy store, and Devere behind his desk, with his head down, buried in the book—The Wonder & Wickedness of the Fae.
I’m coming, Devere.
I closed my eyes and prayed that Devere hadn’t forgotten me, prayed he hadn’t forgottenus. I prayed to whatever god was out there, listening.
