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And indeed, when it came time to go public with her hidden pregnancy, bring it all crashing down on his career, forsaking her own family, Scarlet had felt a rush of exhilaration that surpassed anything that bastard had made her feel with his whispered words and tempting touch.
In fact Scarlet had been flooded with relief when her parents cut her off, cut that cord, set her free from the constraints of those society-imposed morals, liberated Scarlet to give herself completely to the transformation that was taking place. In a way she’d always known that she was never going home, that America was her country now, that although she’d never stepped foot in the United States before Law School, arriving there was like coming home, like she was destined to serve her adopted homeland with this transmuted energy.
Funny how things play out, Scarlet thought now as her mind clawed its way back to that place of cold control. Thirty years and she was still serving her adopted country, the Land of Milk and Honey, the Home of the Free and Brave. So maybe things were indeed scripted in the stars, written on the pages of fate, engraved in the scrolls of destiny.
But fate wasn’t perfect, Scarlet reminded herself as she checked the time once more, sighing because it was still early, forcing her to wait alone with her demons—which were coming alive more often these days, seemed to be on high alert right now. No, fate didn’t play out perfectly. If it did, Scarlet would have gotten all the way through her plan all those years ago, tied the whole thing off with a bloody bow, sealed his fate and her own fate with an endgame that would have made her a legal star, a dark heroine using the very system that had oppressed women for centuries to cover up her crime.
She had every detail of her case worked out, would use every loophole in the law, exploit every emotion in the playbook to get away with her revenge in plain sight.
If only that coyote John Benson hadn’t been watching.
Watching her transformation from the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike, playing a trickster game she was only starting to understand was even possible, a game that she would one day learn how to play with the same mastery, the same malevolence, the same magic.
“Get your head back in the game,” Scarlet muttered as she trembled again from the sickening certainty that she’d seen Indy O’Donnell’s eyes before, seen them looking up from her own left breast, could still feel her doomed daughter’s gummy lips biting down with futile fury as Mama forced the breath out of the infant’s little lungs until her tiny body went still, one last sigh signaling that its unwanted spirit had flown back to wherever it was souls came from.
Scarlet felt herself falling back into that vicious spiral of memories that she’d successfully buried for decades but were bubbling up like that scab could no longer hide what festered within. She bit down on her lip, shaking her head and wondering if this was the end of the road, if she should just turn around and disappear into the night, fade away into the darkness, let herself be swept away by the waves of time.
Was it time to cut the cord and turn away?
And as if the universe was answeringno, Scarlet heard a door open out in the hallway.
Immediately she went rigid with focus. A cautious glance through the looking-glass made her stiffen more.
“What the hell?” she murmured, blinking and frowning at the sight of Ice Wagner angling his shirtless torso around the cracked-open door, looking left and right with electric efficiency, his eyes wide and wired, pupils dilated big enough Scarlet could have driven a truck through them. “No way. How the hell didheget dosed?”
A sinking chill passed through Scarlet. Shit. Did Wagner anticipate that someone might poison O’Donnell’s clothes? Did he check them himself and get some of the LSD on his fingers?
No, came the answer as the chill ran its course down her spine and then rippled back up, carrying with it a hopeful tingle. No way the LSD could have gotten into Wagner just from his fingertips. Not unless his fingertips were wet to begin with—and even then Wagner would have needed to suck on his fingers to get enough of a dose.
But Wagner was clearly dosed, no doubt about those dilated pupils, that wired energy.
Which meant the inside of O’Donnell’s panties had somehow touched Wagner’s lips.
The thought sent a shiver through Scarlet. She had no idea what the story was with Wagner and O’Donnell, but the evidence was starting to point to something very intimate.
And gave her a bit more hope.
Hope that perhaps they’dbothbeen dosed!
That they werebothon that crazy-train heading downhill to the lunatic-circus!
Scarlet smiled behind the stairwell-door, kept watching as Wagner did another wide-eyed sweep of the empty hallway before clumsily sticking a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door handle and then slamming the room-door shut.
Scarlet immediately cracked open the stairwell door, cocked her head, listened for the sound of Wagner sliding the deadbolt across.
It didn’t come.
No deadbolt.
He was already getting sloppy.
Scarlet’s mind furiously recalculated her plan, knowing that if Wagner himself was compromised, her own job became considerably easier. She patted her left breast pocket, feeling the hard plastic of the master keycard she’d snagged from an unattended service cart down near the laundry area. She’d taken it as a precaution, in case things got messy and she needed quick access to an empty room. But now it seemed like providence, like maybe she could risk entering the lion’s den, take the chance that Wagner was far enough down the LSD rabbithole that everything looked like Wonderland to him, that it didn’t matter if he saw her because she might as well be the Mad Hatter.
Or the Red Queen.
Exhilaration rushed through Scarlet again. Things were lining up in that cosmic way, like they had on so many missions over the years—to the point where Scarlet had wondered if she had a guardian angel clearing her path or a protector demon watching her back.
The exhilaration peaked and overflowed into steady confidence as Scarlet smiled at the memory of how she’d let the spirit guide her fingertip along the rack of poisons and potions. And although logic dictated that LSD was too risky and unpredictable, Scarlet had gone with it anyway, trusting that intuition like a witch trusts her spells.
