Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I stared at my mother, knitting before the fireplace with a look of contentment. I could smell stew in the air and hear the tune she hummed under her breath even through the pane of glass that separated us.

Flames sent shadows over her face, but with my new sight, no facet of it was lost to me. I hadn't seen her in months, not since I'd bid her farewell in the doorway on my way to boarding school. She'd seemed so sad then, but here she was, happy as ever without me. She looked older than before, or maybe I'd never noticed the lines in her forehead, or the streams of silver mixed into her dark brown hair.

My father entered the room, plopping into a chair at her side, smiling vaguely in her direction as he produced a pipe from his pocket and set about lighting it with eager, fumbling fingers. I'd tried that pipe once and had gagged at the putrid smoke it produced. I didn't understand how he found pleasure in its foul vapors, but then again, I'd never had a taste for blood before either, yet after a few weeks, I didn't know how I'd ever gone without.

"Why are we here?" I asked, although I didn't turn to look at Konstantin, eyes glowing red from the shadows at my side. "I thought you said we needed to put our human lives behind us."

Konstantin sniffed. "I'm not sure you fully grasp my meaning, Lucian. This is yet another lesson I must teach you. Perhaps the most important one." He gestured through the window, even though my eyes were already fixed on the figures within. "You can never return to this life. If you ever do, they will see you as a monster. They will try to destroy you. In fact, if you ever try to live among their kind again, rather than embrace what you truly are, people will notice things about you. They will note how you never eat, how you never venture out during the daytime hours, how you never age." He paused, cocking his head to look at me. "You aren't of their kind anymore, Lucian. Any lingering longing must be expunged if you want to survive as a creature of the night."

I nodded. "I understand. I'll never see them again."

"No. You will not. You will make sure of that tonight."

I smiled as my father reached out to pat my mother's hand before Konstantin's words registered. I blinked and glanced sideways at him. "What?"

A smile stretched across his lips, and he leaned in closer so that I couldn't avoid his eyes. He pushed a lock of hair back from my face. "All ties to the human world must be severed. They are your only weakness. They will be your undoing if you let them be. Without them, you will be free to become what you were always meant to become."

I swallowed hard, eyes darting inside again, but Konstantin grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes once more. "You are strong enough, Lucian. You can make it as quick as you need to, but this must be done to make any sort of existence for yourself."

I pursed my lips. "I won't see them again. I won't even be tempted. I can leave them be and let them die on their own terms." I hated the pleading in my voice, but it couldn't be helped. I tried to smile for him. "I only need you."

"Then prove it."

"Master, please—"

"Do not beg like one of them. Cut down everything that stands in your way. That is the way of a true predator. An apex predator."

"Lucian?" a voice asked from behind me, tentative.

I flinched, turning to find my sister Lexa standing in the path leading to the door, firewood in her arms.

I straightened and blinked at her. She'd grown in the weeks since I'd last seen her. Yet somehow, she seemed so much frailer than I remembered.

"Mother and Father will be very upset if you've been kicked out of school," Lexa said, frowning. "Are you well, Lucian? You look pale."

I glanced toward Konstantin, but he was gone. I was on my own then, to see this through. I knew I couldn't disappoint him. It wouldn't end well for me.

I strode toward Lexa casually. "I'm fine, sister. You've grown though." I held out a hand. "Let me carry the firewood for you."

"If you insist." She squinted at me suspiciously before she pushed into the house ahead of me.

I stopped at the threshold, frowning as my body wouldn't allow me to venture any further. It was like an invisible wall stood in my way, repelling me. I hadn't encountered anything like it before, but I recalled my master's instructions: To enter a home, a vampire needed to secure an invitation.

"Guess who's home?" Lexa announced, startling my parents.

"You've barely been gone ten minutes," my mother said, chuckling, eyes on her knitting. "Dinner won't be ready for another hour."

"Where's the firewood?" my father asked, squinting beyond her at the open door.

Lexa looked back at me, raising an eyebrow. "Well? Aren't you going to come in?"

Would that do? Was that an invitation?

I took a step inside, the invisible barrier having disappeared. I released a sigh.

"Who …?" My father stood, eyes widening. "Lucian? It can't be. We received word about your school."

Lexa frowned. "What are you talking about?"

My mother was staring at me, face white. "Lucian?"

I felt my resolve waver. These were my parents. They'd raised me. They loved me. "Mother?" I ventured, taking a tentative step forward.

My father searched me, eyes lingering on my leg as I took another step with my bad leg, no longer having to shift to accommodate its broken past.

"No," my father's countenance darkened. "Lexa, get away from it."

Lexa frowned. "Dad?"

I dropped the firewood, all but one log. They fell to the floor with hollow thuds, rolling across the hardwood. How could he call me that? His own flesh and blood? He'd been the one to send me to that boarding school. This was all his fault.

Lexa scowled down at the dropped bundle. "Lucian, you're getting the floor filthy. You're cleaning that."

Adrenaline coursed through me as my eyes found the throbbing artery in her neck.

"Strigoi," my mother breathed, eyes wide. I felt a sting at her words. The way she looked at me was painful. It wasn't with love or joy to see me. It was with horror. She was terrified of me. Well, perhaps she should be. If she could turn on me so quickly, her own son … Konstantin was right. These humans had no ties to me any longer. They were something else entirely. Something weak and small-minded. If I ended their existence now, it wouldn't just serve to cut any lasting ties to this world, but it would end their mortal torment. They wouldn't age and die horribly. They would no longer have to suffer, as they were clearly suffering from the loss of their beloved son, so quickly forgotten that they hadn't even bothered to tell Lexa about the vampire attack at my school. How quickly they'd moved on, a happy family of three.

"I'm your family now," Konstantin's voice whispered in my mind like a soft caress. "You are nothing like them. You are much, much more."

My father stepped in front of my mother protectively, mouth set. How very noble of him.

I smiled. "Allow me to show you what I've learned since you sent me away."

I dismissed Stuart the next morning. I was exhausted after staying up well into the night listening to the men in the distance as they'd worked tirelessly to put out the fire in their secret chambers. I hoped they'd managed to salvage nothing.

I woke in the late afternoon after a restless sleep to scratching at my window. I lifted my head from my pillow, squinting at the sunlight streaming in through the curtain Stuart had managed to half open before I'd banished him.

"Shut up," I muttered, turning my back to the window and stuffing the pillow over my ears. It was persistent, however, and I choked down a yell as I tossed the pillow across the room and rolled out of bed. I threw the curtains wide and glared down at Beezle, who was scratching furiously from the outside. When he caught sight of me, he stopped and stared up at me.

"Well?" I demanded, pushing the window open. "Are you just trying to irritate me, or are you going to come in to eat?"

He sat back, tail swishing behind him.

"Really? After all we've been through together, you're going to just sit there?" After a moment with no reaction, I scowled and stormed back to my bed, whereupon he took up his scratching again. "Fine!" I shouted. "I'm getting up!" I slammed my wardrobe open and grabbed the first suit I saw. When Beezle still hadn't let up, I stomped to the window and shut it hard in his face, causing him to scurry away with a yelp of protest.

Jaw clenched, I proceeded to get ready for the day, my mind a storm of anger and resentment. How would I be able to converse with Ambrose after what I knew? I was so mad I just wanted to strike him, wipe that smug grin right off his well-proportioned, sanctimonious face. But, given what I'd discovered, I was so very close to meeting Vrykolakas's demands. I had even more names for him, and multiple people to pry the rest from.

I bristled as a knock at the door interrupted me, only half-dressed. I zipped up my trousers, grabbing the shirt I'd selected and throwing it over my shoulder as I hastily yanked the door open. "It's about time, Stuart. I—" I stopped short, blinking back at Maxwell, whose startled eyes were glued to my chest.

I leaned against the doorframe, unable to help the grin slipping into place. His mere presence was enough to shift my mood all at once. "Usually Stuart helps me into and out of my clothes, but I suppose you'll do." I nodded inside and Maxwell obeyed, saying nothing, but hastily turning away as I closed the door behind him. I watched him for a moment as he avoided looking in my direction. "I'm afraid to say I'll need help into my clothes, not out of them at the moment."

Maxwell swallowed hard. "Of course. Happy to help."

I snickered, throwing my shirt at him. "This should be easy for you. Stuart is besotted with me, you know, so it's always a challenge for him. Can't even meet my eyes, the poor fool."

He lifted his gaze to me as I'd intended. "Shall I fetch him? I'm not sure I'm …"

"You'll do fine," I said. I turned my back to him. "It's simple really. Just line up the sleeves with my arms and help me into it. I trust you can manage that much."

He nodded, following my instructions. He hesitated as he grazed my shoulder in his attempts. I thought of making a joke about him trying to get fresh with me, but he already seemed so flustered that I hadn't the heart. I turned to face him once he'd finished and glanced down my bare chest. "I suppose I could button it myself. Unless you'd like that honor?"

His mouth opened, hands trembling. He was so adorable. I yearned to push him back against the bed and slide off his shirt, give him something to really be flustered about beneath the caresses of my hands and mouth.

Another knock at the door saved him from answering, to my annoyance.

Stuart poked his head inside. Once he noticed Maxwell, his eyes narrowed. The state of my dress likely hadn't gone unnoticed. He straightened and stepped inside. "Shall I take over, my lord?"

I chuckled. "Just listen to that jealousy in his voice."

Ignoring the bait, Stuart marched to my bed, where my jacket lay over the comforter. He wrinkled his nose at my choice and rummaged through my wardrobe before coming up with a maroon suit adorned with gold buttons. "The house is in quite a state. I wouldn't have returned if I hadn't needed to anyway, Count."

"Oh? What's going on? I thought I smelled smoke." I gazed at him innocently.

"Yes, a fire in the cellar is but the tip of our misfortunes. Townspeople worked all night to put it out. Since then, more staff have fallen ill. The entire west wing of the servant quarters is being quarantined from the rest of the house. The doctor has two assistants letting no one in or out, even me. Meanwhile, I have to take over butler duties while Percival is in quarantine."

"You? In charge? Stuart, look at you climbing the ranks."

"It's temporary," Stuart insisted, pausing to consider for a moment. "I hope." He shook away his distraction as he helped me into my suit. "And on top of it all, we have this ball tonight. I don't know how we'll get on."

"Yet we'll manage," Maxwell assured him. "With so few guests left, and only a handful of people invited from town, it should be a much simpler affair than we're used to."

"God willing."

I smoothed a hand over my suit jacket. "You said you were returning for me for some reason?" I reminded Stuart.

"Ah, yes. The duke wishes to have a word before tonight's ball."

"That's why I was fetching him," Maxwell explained.

I smiled lazily at him. "Stuart, you saw. He just couldn't keep his hands off of me. You of all people understand the temptations he's besieged by."

Stuart grunted at the same time Maxwell elbowed me. "Don't tease," he scolded. "That's how horrid rumors start circulating."

I laughed.

After Stuart had finished what Maxwell had begun, he led us up to the duke's sitting room. I suddenly had the idea that someone had seen me in the hidden room beneath the house, perhaps as I'd emerged in the gardens. I'd been so dazed from the smoke, it was certainly possible. Perhaps he would hand me over to his hunters to put the screws to me before having me killed. I'd no doubt that Lord Boulliard knew his way around instruments of torture. It would be my luck to fail when I'd come so close. And for what? A tantrum? I'd been unable to hold myself back once I'd uncovered the truth, and now I might pay for that dearly. "Do you know what he wants?" I asked, unable to bear the suspense another moment longer.

We approached the duke's room, a dark door at the end of a hall decorated with model ships and paintings of ships upon stormy seas. It occurred to me that I knew very little about the duke. Had he served time in the navy?

"I'm not sure," Maxwell replied. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you worried?"

It also occurred to me that he may be delivering bad news. Perhaps Helena had perished in the night. My mouth went dry as Stuart knocked on the door, and after a brief moment, opened it for us.

I blinked at the dim interior, drapes pulled closed so that it appeared to be nighttime. A candelabra was lit at the end of the room, however, so there was enough light to see by. The duke sat in a tall chair, nearly a throne, at the back of the room, facing a figure already seated on a sofa. Ambrose.

"That will be all, Stuart," the duke said, his voice stronger than the last time I'd heard it. He glanced at Maxwell. "This isn't for your ears either, Maxwell."

Maxwell stilled, then bowed. "Of course, Father." He sent me a lingering look before he followed Stuart outside, the door shutting firmly at their backs.

"Take a seat," the duke instructed. "And don't mind the dark. The migraines I get these days are terrible." He sat in the shadows, so it was impossible to make much from his expression. Behind him, a grandfather clock distracted me with its steady ticking, like a heartbeat.

"I hope you'll be well enough for the ball," I said, taking a seat next to Ambrose, who offered me a tight smile.

"Oh, no need to worry about that. I'm very much looking forward to tonight's festivities." He paused, tilting his head as he surveyed me. "Ambrose has asked my permission to ask for your hand tonight."

My eyes widened. Oh. That was unexpected. I glanced uncertainly to Ambrose, who nodded, his smile filling with warmth. His hand. I had done it. "That is a surprise," I admitted, both elated at the idea of winning his hand, and disgusted by the man. Both of these men. Both hunters and both insufferable. Now I only needed to see the other condition of Vrykolakas's challenge to its conclusion. I was so close. "I'd hoped, of course."

The duke chuckled. "I'd say my son has made a fine choice. There was never anyone else of your caliber among his suitors."

I raised an eyebrow at that. He'd seemed pretty smitten with Cecelia until the hunting incident, but I stilled my tongue.

"I am giving you my blessing," the duke continued. "Given how you handle yourself, I think you will be the addition this family needs to thrive in the future."

I felt Ambrose's hand slide over mine and I glanced down as he interlaced his fingers with mine and squeezed. I suppressed the urge to fling his hand from me, and grinned up at him. "You honor me, my lord," I said to the duke. "Truly, I will make you proud to call me family. And I will ensure Ambrose remains very happy."

"I can see you will," The duke chuckled. "You make for a striking couple. We are going to make some changes around here. Things cannot continue as they have. But I believe you will be the perfect team to usher this house in a new direction."

Ambrose frowned. "Father?"

The duke waved a hand. "You'll find out tonight. But go with light minds in the knowledge that your futures are secure." He paused and examined us for a moment, a light smile playing over his lips. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must rest. It's going to be a big night."

"Of course," Ambrose said. We stood as he got to his feet and strode from the room. I glanced at the wheelchair beside him that he hadn't needed. Perhaps he really was on the mend. Perhaps he would have even lived to see his son wed, if he'd made a better choice.

I turned to Ambrose as the door to the duke's bedchamber closed. "Are you sure?" I asked him, gazing down at my hands that he held on to.

"Yes," he said, shrugging. "You're clearly the best of my suitors, in almost every conceivable way. My parents are both pleased with you."

Almost? I would have liked to know what areas he found lacking.

He dropped one of my hands to cup my cheek. "Congratulations on winning the competition," he said. "You'll find me an adequate prize, I'm sure." He grinned.

"I will," I murmured, refusing to snort at what a conceited bastard he was. As if he was the greatest thing that could have ever happened to me. He hadn't even bothered to tell me anything he admired about me, aside from how I performed in the games. He hadn't even bothered to ask if I wanted him. He assumed I did. As did the duke. It was laughable.

Then Ambrose's lips were on mine.

My eyes widened as he pressed his mouth against my own, forcing his tongue past my lips. I stood frozen for a moment. I did not want this man kissing me, but I couldn't very well brush him off. I considered how handsome he was. He was insufferable, but I didn't have to like a pretty boy to enjoy kissing him, right?

I returned the kiss, trying to ignore how Ambrose's mouth opened so wide that it was like he was trying to engulf me. Had he never kissed before? Oh, gods, I wouldn't have to do this very often, would I? And just what was I doing anyway? He was a vampire hunter. I'd just been thinking how awkward our reunion would be. And here I was kissing him. The enemy. The fact that I needed him to meet Vrykolakas's terms was the only thing holding me back from smacking him across the jaw.

I pushed myself back, disentangling from him with an apologetic smile. "There'll be plenty of time for that later, I suspect."

"And more," he agreed, voice hoarse.

I ignored the promise in his words. I didn't need to worry about what more there could be. A little more digging and hopefully I could return to my real life.

We stepped back out into the hallway to greet an anxious Maxwell. His hands were clasped together as he approached, but the moment his eyes found our linked hands, he stilled, and realization crossed his face. His face melted into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You finally made a decision then," he said.

Ambrose nodded, clapping Maxwell on the shoulder. "I have. I think this old house will be more lively with Lucian around, wouldn't you agree?"

Maxwell caught my eye. "I should say so."

I turned to Ambrose, dropping his hand. "Before we go through with this, I have to ask a few things."

Ambrose raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh? I'm all ears."

I glanced hesitantly at Maxwell before crossing my arms. This was the perfect opportunity to ask questions that needed asking. "We overheard you in the garden at Foxglove Abbey. You know the men who kidnapped Emmett."

Ambrose blinked, confusion clouding his features. "What are you talking about?"

Maxwell lifted his chin. "You said your men left him bloodied. Ring any bells?"

"Well, you've construed incorrectly," Ambrose said slowly, looking between the two of us. "I know nothing about what happened to Emmett."

"But—"

"I was talking about you, Maxwell."

Maxwell frowned.

And then it dawned on me. "Oh. The kidnapping attempt on Maxwell. He was left bleeding."

"You had me kidnapped?" Maxwell demanded, taking a threatening step toward his brother. "But why?"

Ambrose scratched the back of his neck. "It wasn't so much a kidnapping as … an initiation ritual. Father's club does this stupid thing, you see. You weren't going to be harmed in any way. At least, not if you proved your worth in the ring."

"The ring?"

I straightened. "Let's not beat around the bush. Your family hunts vampires."

Maxwell started, staring at first me, then Ambrose. "What are you talking about?"

The resignation in Ambrose's face was all the confirmation I needed. He sent me an apologetic smile. "I should have known you would guess. Your skills grappling with that vampire certainly factored in to our decision."

I raised an eyebrow. Our decision? That sounded a whole lot like the duke had selected me to hunt vampires.

"Father is a vampire hunter?" Maxwell shook his head. " You're a vampire hunter?"

"Yes. Just before Emmett went missing, you remember my stay at the Rice's for several days? I actually joined a raiding party at a distant castle. We'd received word from a spy about Thomas Grange's internment there."

I gasped, and they both looked at me. I covered it with a cough. Ambrose had been among the hunters who'd driven me from my home? Ambrose?

"But why the kidnapping plot?" Maxwell demanded. "Father could have just asked me."

"Everybody must go through it," Ambrose explained. "You have to drive a wooden stake through a vampire's heart in our secret chambers. It isn't very dangerous, but all initiates must be disoriented before the rite takes place." He winced, glancing at me. "Of course, when your time comes, we may have to invent a new ritual. Although Father's cryptic words tonight, and the accident in our chambers, could force us to reevaluate."

My mind was whirling as I absorbed this information. "So, you truly don't know anything about Emmett's disappearance?"

"Not a thing," Ambrose said.

Then was Emmett's disappearance tied to the robed men at all? I had to reexamine the situation from all new angles.

"I can't believe you've hidden this from me my entire life," Maxwell said, shaking his head. "It's all been a lie."

"I felt the same," Ambrose said. "I was only initiated into the society a few years ago, and my world was upended. Emmett certainly didn't take it well."

"Emmett is also a vampire hunter?"

Ambrose heaved a great sigh. "He refused to participate in any raids. I think he sympathized with the vampires."

At least someone in this family had some sense.

The grandfather clock from inside the duke's sitting room chimed the hour, startling us.

"This isn't the place to discuss this," Ambrose said, lowering his voice. "Anyone could overhear us."

Maxwell scowled. "This house is full of spy posts. Anyone could overhear us anywhere." He led us down the stairs, Ambrose grabbing my arm to stop me. He leaned in to me earnestly and whispered in my ear. "Hey, I'm not the bad guy here. Vampires are nothing to jest about."

I met his eyes. I knew his views on vampires. I even understood them. But being on the other side of his raiding party would forever make him the bad guy to my kind. Or was that too simple a way of looking at things? He was protecting himself and his own, after all. Wouldn't I have done the same? All I had ever done was kill humans to survive. Were his actions any different? He'd enjoyed hunting ghouls for sport, had likely enjoyed hunting down vampires, hunting down me. Yet I'd enjoyed the hunt as well, the pain, the suffering. I knew I was the bad guy. To humans, at least. But I was taking a hard look at myself in that regard. And what exactly, did Ambrose's actions make him? Maybe not a bad guy, but not the hero either. Human, I supposed. Complicated. What they all were in the end. I sent him a shaky smile as my resolve wavered. "You're right. Vampires are nothing to jest about."

He seemed to relax at my words.

Maxwell sent us a backward glance, and I caught his eye before he looked away quickly.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Violetta was waiting for us, having seen our descent. She offered us a stiff bow. "Pardon the intrusion. I was wondering if I could have a word with Lucian?"

"Violetta," Maxwell greeted. "You're looking well."

"As well as I can be, my lord," Violetta replied. She sent me a hesitant look.

"You can speak freely in front of them," I said. "They want to find Emmett more than anyone, I suspect."

"At least you think so now, " Ambrose said, sending me a look.

Maxwell scowled. "You have to admit you acted suspiciously, brother."

I ignored them as Violetta reached into her bag and produced a small notebook the size of her hand, containing two dozen pages at most.

I accepted it and waved it at Maxwell and Ambrose. "Given what we know, this clue is more vital now than ever." The brothers took places at my back, each looking over a shoulder as I opened the notebook.

Names. It was a list of names. I knew what it was immediately, of course. Ambrose's sharp intake of breath only confirmed it. This … this was what I needed. The endgame, in that tiny notebook. I would meet both conditions of Vrykolakas's quest with these papers.

"Vampire hunters?" Maxwell asked, and his brother's jaw clenched in response. Violetta's eyes were wide as she absorbed what she'd been holding on to.

Ambrose snatched the notebook from my hands. "These names are meant to be secret, for their protection. Can you imagine if these names found their way to the hands of a vampire lord? They would all be hunted down and wiped out without a second thought."

I nodded. Yes. If I had that notebook, that was exactly what would happen. And at my hand.

I hesitated. Of course, Ambrose would be on that list. And Maxwell would soon be on it as well. There were likely many boys such as them among the ranks of this society. Did they all deserve to die for being dragged into this organization, literally kicking and screaming? Many of them probably did. But not all of them.

Not Maxwell.

"But why would Emmett have such a list?" I asked.

Ambrose frowned, crossing his arms. "He had to have copied it from Lord Boulliard's original. He's the only one who has such a list."

I blinked. So that was why Emmett had been spying on the man. To have the opportunity to copy it.

"As for why?" Maxwell sighed. "Perhaps he's spying for someone."

"A vampire?" Violetta gasped.

"No, no," Ambrose waved her assertion away. "Likely someone who would stand to make a good amount of money to keep this list from undead hands, though."

"Blackmail." Maxwell nodded slowly. "He would barter for their very lives. They would likely pay any sum to keep this list safe."

I digested this new information. Emmett didn't seem like the innocent victim in all of this, after all. Perhaps he'd gotten in over his head. Perhaps the mystery woman Isabel had seen him with had put him up to it, manipulating him or threatening him. He was likely now in trouble from whomever these dangerous blackmailers were.

"Oh!" Violetta rummaged through her bag again and handed me a letter. "I brought this too, in case you wanted to see it."

I frowned as I unfolded the page, scanning it with increasing anxiety.

"What is it?" Maxwell asked.

I licked my lips and read. "Dearest Violetta, I must beg another favor of you. I apologize for putting you in an awkward position, but I must have that list you safeguarded for me. I'm afraid circumstances prevent me from acquiring it through convenient means, but I trust you can accommodate me in a precarious predicament. Meet me at the cemetery off Old Mill Road at midnight on Wednesday. I promise to make it worth your while. You know I wouldn't ask if this wasn't extremely important, and I know that I can count on you. Yours."

It wasn't signed, but it was clear who had penned this.

"Old Mill Road again?" Maxwell frowned.

I nodded slowly. "He's likely hiding somewhere nearby. It's perfect, of course. Out of the way, where no one might stumble across him. He'd been spending enough time there as of late to know the area."

Violetta stiffened. "Oh."

I watched her expectantly. "Oh?"

She ducked her head. "If he's out there, he's hiding in plain sight."

Ambrose lifted an eyebrow. "Would you care to enlighten us?"

"Gramercy House."

"Gramercy House?" Maxwell wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Where the family of vampires were mobbed way back when?"

I nodded. Of course. I recalled catching a glimpse of a large house through the hazy fog when we'd been out there previously. It had been right there. "It's perfect actually," I agreed. "The stigma keeps people away. Even Cecelia talked about being dared to venture inside when she was a little girl."

"Then we must go there," Ambrose said, straightening. "At once."

Maxwell lifted an eyebrow. "And what of the ball?"

Ambrose peered at his pocket watch. "It won't start for another few hours yet. We have time."

I hesitated, glancing at the window and the sun hanging in the sky beyond. I recalled what had happened last time we'd been out there, and I didn't relish the idea of a repeat encounter with Raven. But we had a few hours of daylight left. That would have to be enough.

"If we're going to do this, we'd best get going," Violetta said.

I exchanged a look with Ambrose before returning my gaze to her. "You could wait here, if you'd rather. Rest before the ball."

Violetta's face twisted into a grimace. "And miss the opportunity to scold Emmett for making us all worry needlessly? I think not."

I grinned, shrugging at Ambrose and Maxwell. "You heard the lady. Let's track down your brother and end this charade, shall we?" I reached out a hand to Ambrose for the list of hunter names. "I can keep that safe."

"This should stay in the society's hands for now." He said, tucking it into his jacket pocket. "You understand."

I understood. I understood completely. I also understood I would retrieve that list from him by any means, even if I had to pry it out of his cold, dead hands.