19. Lyssa

I returnto the Empire Grand still mulling over tonight’s encounter with Scarlett. The revelations about Grandmother’s manipulation and the mystery surrounding her brother’s death weigh more heavily on me than I expected, intertwining with some strange stirring in my heart.

Scarlett’s a killer. She has killed my friends, my comrades. But now I feel torn between my loyalty to the Syndicate and the growing connection I feel with her, a bond forged through shared trauma.

Because I know exactly what she must have suffered under Grandmother, and that? That is my fault, even if her brother’s death wasn’t. If I’d done my job right all those years ago, made sure the kill was good, then Scarlett would never have been made.

I can’t get her eyes out of my mind, the way they shine with a mix of rage and vulnerability. I’ve managed to stamp out both in myself over the years, leaving cold, cracked rock where a torrent of lava used to be. There’s a fire still burning in Scarlett that both exasperates and intrigues me.

And I can’t stop thinking about the way she moved against me in the shower, and again in the bed, the way her touch ignited something deep within me, something I thought long buried in a rock-hard heart.

I nearly kissed her again tonight. Nearly offered to stay, to cuddle up to her in bed like we’re some kind of…

But I knew I should go, and I’m glad I did, even if part of me wishes I’d stayed. I shouldn’t tease her, shouldn’t make her think this thing between us will end any other way except with me following orders.

I consider heading to the training room to work off the restless energy coursing through my veins, but something pulls me to Mrs. Graves’ room instead. She’s been a constant in my life since those early days when Hadria and I were like two wild animals, suspicious of any safe haven or sense of belonging.

She never tamed us. But she fed us and sheltered us until we trusted her. Even loved her.

And I could use some advice.

I find Mrs. Graves awake and working on some housekeeping things for the new Elysium. She opens the door without asking who it is, which I’ve spoken to her about too many times to count.

“I have eyes in my head, Lyssa,” she says impatiently, as I start to say it again. “I saw you through the peep hole.”

“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving,” I counter, thinking about that woman with the wolf mask.

The exasperation in her face fades as she ushers me in. “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders,” she says bluntly. “What’s going on?”

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. The feelings swirling inside me are raw and confusing, a tangled web of desire, guilt, and a longing for something I can’t quite define. “Dunno,” I say at last.

She just sighs and gestures for me to sit, while she sets about making me a hot chocolate. It’s packet stuff, the kind the hotel stocks, but it’s pretty decent, and the sweet aroma still conjures memories of our first few months under her roof. I remember my first sight of that pink, ruffly bedroom that had once belonged to her daughter, Sarah. I offered to take it when I saw the look on Hadria’s face, because I could tell it was important to Mrs. G that one of us, at least, should sleep in her daughter’s bed. I figured it’d bring her some kind of spiritual satisfaction, and I think it did.

It felt strange at first, sleeping in a dead girl’s bed. But I was grateful that Hadria and I had been able to bring Mrs. Graves some measure of peace by avenging Sarah’s murder.

And that teddy bear of Sarah’s…well, Mr. Fluffikins turned out to be a good confidante over the years.

As I wrap my hands around a steaming mug now, breathing in its warmth and familiarity, Mrs. Graves settles across from me.

“What’s troubling you, Lyssa?” she prompts gently. “You’re not usually one for deep reflection.”

I give a wry grin. “You got that right.” The grin dies as I take a deep breath, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “I think I…I’m having…feelings. For someone. Someone I shouldn’t. It’s...complicated.”

Mrs. Graves’ eyes go wide, and then she nods, her expression a mix of concern and empathy. “Matters of the heart are rarely simple, especially in this world we live in. This…person. What are they like?”

“She’s...different. And yet, she’s really familiar to me.” I warm to my theme after another sip of hot chocolate. Pretty sure Mrs. Graves has spiked it with Baileys. “She’s strong, but…she’s broken, too, in a way that I understand. Every time I’m around her, I—well, I want her, in a way I haven’t felt before. But I shouldn’t. I can’t.”

“Forbidden fruit is often the sweetest,” Mrs. Graves muses, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “But…I see something shifting in you, Lyssa. Have seen it, since Elysium was destroyed.”

I look at her in surprised, ready to protest—but as I think about it, maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s true that I’ve felt out of place ever since we moved here, to this hotel. I miss Elysium. I want to get back there. I nearly lost my life in the battle we had there, but I’d do it again if I had to. For Hadria. For the Syndicate. For…for the family that I’ve found, even though I didn’t realize until recently that that’s what we are.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admit, staring into my drink.

Mrs. Graves reaches across the table, her hand warm and reassuring on mine. “In our world, love is a luxury few can afford. It makes us vulnerable, exposes our weaknesses to those who would exploit them.”

I’m a little startled to hear her jump to the L-word so fast.

Love.

Is that what I’m feeling?

“But it’s also the most powerful force on earth,” Mrs. Graves goes on, “capable of transforming even the darkest of souls.” She pauses, her eyes distant with memory. “When I lost Sarah, I thought I would never feel whole again. The pain was a void, consuming everything in its wake. I wanted vengeance more than I wanted life itself. But then you and Hadria came into my life, two lost girls who needed a mother’s love just as much as I needed a reason to keep living.”

Something stings at the corners of my eyes, and I blink rapidly until it stops. “I…I never knew how much you struggled, Mrs. G. I hope we weren’t too much of a burden. I know sometimes we could be?—”

“Nonsense,” she says briskly, and then she smiles, a sad, wistful expression that speaks of the scars she carries. “We all have our demons, Lyssa. The key is learning to live with them, to find the light in the darkness. And sometimes, you know, that light comes from the most unexpected places. That was you and Hadria, for me. And I want to be clear, dear—it wasn’t the act of vengeance that made me whole again. It was having you two to care about. Love does that, you know.”

I think of Scarlett, of the way I always feel a little unsteady around her, of the guilt I feel—but also the admiration I have for her.

And I think about her vengeance-driven fury.

“Do you really think it’s possible for someone like me, though?” I ask, my throat closing hard on the words. I hardly dare to ask, because I’m afraid of the answer. “Is it possible for someone like me to find…”

I trail off. I can’t even say the word. Haven’t I proven time and again that I’m a monster, just like the beast from the fairytales that I like to call myself after? I’m a killer-for-hire, and I even take pleasure in the work, in the thrill of the hunt and the sweet release of the kill.

And yet, Mrs. Graves is looking at me now with kindness in her eyes. She’s always seen something more in me, some spark of humanity I thought had died the day I took my first life all those years ago. She squeezes my hand now, her eyes shining with a fierce pride.

“Of course you deserve love. And you are loved, Lyssa. Here, in the Syndicate, by your family. And if this woman has captured your heart—even if you can’t be with her—it’s still a sign for you that there’s more to life than…well, than violence and vengeance.”

Vengeance. The one thing that seems to drive Scarlett. Mrs. G must know how it feels, of course. Vengeance was what she wanted, too, all those years ago.

“After Sarah…” I start, my voice catching on the name of the daughter she lost. “Did it help? Avenging her death, I mean?”

Mrs. Graves’ expression changes. Colder, maybe, or sadder. “It didn’t bring her back. And it didn’t make the pain of losing her any easier to bear. But I…well, I felt a measure of justice, knowing the monster who took her from me could no longer hurt anyone else.”

Scarlett’s quest for vengeance won’t bring her brother back from the grave, either. But perhaps, like Mrs. Graves, she seeks that twisted sense of justice, that need to make someone pay for her loss, no matter the cost.

“But Lyssa, I do need to say this…I’m not sure you should tell her how you feel,” Mrs. Graves says tentatively.

“What? Who?”

“This…woman, Lyssa. The one you have feelings for.”

I stare at her. “I don’t plan on it,” I say at last.

And something like relief comes into her face. “I know it will be difficult,” she says. “But I know there’s someone special out there for you, too.”

Things are getting weird, here. Time to bail. I suck down the rest of the hot chocolate and put the mug down. “Thank you, Mrs. G. For—for everything. I better get going.”

She rises from her seat as I do, enveloping me in a warm hug that smells like home. “You are a daughter to me, Lyssa. Never forget that. And whatever path you choose, whatever you decide to do about your feelings, I will always be here for you.” She puts her lips close to my ear and whispers softly, “And so will Hadria.”

Hadria? What does Hadria…

Wait. I stiffen in her hug. Does she think I was talking about…

Oh, fuck.

“Okay, thanks,” I manage to squeak out. “Gotta go, Mrs. G, places to be?—”

But as I beat a very fucking hasty retreat, and hope like hell Mrs. G doesn’t hear the hysterical laughter bubbling out of me as I head back to my own room, my heart feels a little lighter nonetheless.

Hadria? She thinks I have a thing for Hadria?

No wonder Mrs. G looked so surprised at first. Does she really think I’m jealous of Suzy Sunshine? I get into my room and sag against the door, laughing helplessly at the idea.

Hell, no. Hadria and Aurora are like sisters to me. Very important, sure—but there’s nothing else there. Not like…

My laughter dies away as I think about Scarlett again.

I mean, I’m definitely not in love with Scarlett, either. I just identify with her. That’s all. We’re two people who have lived through Grandmother’s so-called lessons, so it’s probably just trauma-bonding or some psychological shit like that.

Okay, yeah, Scar’s also hotter than the sun, but sex isn’t love, and neither is empathy.

Plus she’s a dead woman walking, as far as the Syndicate is concerned. Tomorrow night, she and I will revisit the scene of Adam’s murder, hopefully take a step closer to unraveling the twisted web that brought us together. And once I can get to Grandmother through Scarlett, I won’t need her anymore.

And I’ll dispose of her, as ordered.