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“We have to kill her,” Brom says suddenly, staring at nothing. His voice is so raw, so strange, that both me and Crane look at him in surprise.
“We what?” I repeat.
He swings his dark eyes over to us. “We have to kill her. We have to kill all of them. That’s the only way we get out of this alive.”
“Brom,” I admonish him. “We don’t even truly know what’s happening here with my aunts, what the coven stands for, what our union even means. And even if we did know, we are not murderers. Crane may have killed his wife, but not on purpose, and you…”
His brows raise, his forehead lined. “And me? I’m a murderer, daffy. I know you know that too.”
“You are not the horseman,” I tell him.
“I am the horseman,” he says simply, his eyes so black. “And he is me. And I killed Constable Kirkbride. I told the Hessian to do it, simply because I wanted him dead. What do you make of that now?”
My mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls. I can barely swallow, barely think.
“We are bad men, Kat,” Crane whispers, putting his hand on my head. “You deserve better than us.”
“No,” I tell them, shaking my head. “You’re my men. The rest doesn’t matter.”
“Morals don’t matter?” Crane asks, his eyes gleaming.
“My morals matter,” I say adamantly, feeling it burn in my chest. “And your morals matter. That’s all. The three of us, we’ve been put on a raft and set adrift by the rest of the world. We found each other, and we must cling to each other. If that means we have to develop our own set of morals to survive, so be it. I’m not sacrificing any of that, and I’m not sacrificing either of you to fit in to someone else’s standards of what it means to be good.” I pause, taking in a deep breath. “They can all fuck right off.”
Crane’s eyes go wide in shock, and Brom bursts out laughing, throwing his arm around me and holding me close.
“That’s a good girl,” Crane says, shaking his head through a smile, his eyes dancing with pride. “That’s our sweet witch.”
I smile right back.
But I meant what I said.
Chapter 25
Crane
“I’ve fallen deeper in love with her,” I tell Brom, placing a drop, just a drop, of the laudanum on my tongue. “I didn’t think that was possible, but it is.”
Brom chuckles, sitting on the floor and leaning against the side of my bed on which I’m lying in a state of well-earned stupor. “You told her you needed to stay sharp, Crane.”
“And in the moment, I meant it,” I tell him, passing the bottle down to him. “But it’s the middle of the night, and I should be asleep. You should be asleep. Is it so wrong to have a little assistance?”
“She needed the drug for her own pain,” Brom points out as he takes it from me, his finger brushing against mine, holding on for just a moment.
“I filled up a vial for her,” I remind him. “It’s very dangerous to give a young woman that much opium when she’s never had it before. Ms. Choi should know that.”
“Sounds like Ms. Choi had other things to worry about,” he comments gruffly, putting a drop on his tongue. He coughs, making a face. “Do you really think that the Sisters can spy on us through paintings?”
“Let’s just assume that they can,” I tell him. “Let’s assume everything. Let’s assume the worst even. That Ms. Choi’s nightmares are real. That she’s being drugged, perhaps with the opium she smuggled in for Leona, and is being taken to the cathedral in the night, her organs removed while she’s still alive, then sewn back up and healed through magic. Let’s pretend that’s what’s happening.”
“Fuck,” he swears, bringing the bottle back to me.
I take it and put it on the desk, then lie back on the bed again.
“Then I shall stick to my original feelings on the matter,” he says. “That we kill them all.”
I stare at him, unable to stop from smiling. “You really went from feeling guilty that the horseman was killing people based on your feelings, to just wanting to massacre every witch you see.”
He shrugs. “I’m already damned, aren’t I?” He rolls his head to the side to look at me. “I’m serious. Give me the word, Crane, and I’ll get the horseman to do it.”
The drug wants my mind to slow down, to relax, to submit, but I can’t, not yet.
“Brom,” I say, blinking hard at him in order to force my brain to work. “I know you feel connected to this evil spirit inside you, and you think that’s a good thing, but it really isn’t. The horseman is letting you think he’s on your side. He’s not. No matter what, he was summoned by the coven, and he belongs to the coven. At any moment they can recall him and order him to do their bidding. He’s not going to pick you when the time comes. And he’s certainly not going to kill the coven when they’re the ones controlling him.”
