Page 89 of The Lies We Conjure
“A private room at Le Sur in Denver,” she says, squinting at what looks to me from over her shoulder to be an emailed receipt, “a day before the annual meeting.”
“Papa paid for three meals and a bottle ofvery nicecava during a four-hour lunch,” Ada says. “The three heads of family met together the day before Ursula was murdered. Now Ursula is dead, and her title is on the line.”
Hex taps the phone in Winter’s hand. “And of the three people in that meeting, only Papa is still standing here.”
“Are you sure your parents didn’t somehow murder Luna and avoid Ursula’s punishment?” Lavinia asks.
The twins exchange a glance.
“We don’t know,” Hex says. “But what we do know is that they will do anything for the prize because the power’s the point.”
The power’s the point—the line kicks me straight in the chest.
Was that always the truth? From Napoleon to Mercy to Ursula to us?
“Being seen as the redeemer of the Cerise name?” Ada’s voice is no longer weak but as thorny as ever. “The one who finally avenged the power lost by Napoleon Cerise? The one who returned rightful power to the Blood Line after four hundred years on the sidelines? It’s what they dream of. And after what they made us do today? Nearly killing Evander? They’ll use us in any way necessary to make this happen for them. I’m sure of it. Whether it kills someone or kills us, honestly, I’m not sure they care.”
“Kill you two?” Lavinia clarifies as Kaysa gasps.
Hex spears them with a stoic glare. “My sister said what she said and I agree.”
The room spins as his admission and confirmation ring in our ears.
“I need a drink,” Evander announces and turns for Ursula’s sideboard.
“We all do,” Hex agrees.
Evander unstoppers the scotch and splashes it into two glasses. An olive branch of his own, I suppose.
“I want to know what you expect us to do with this information,” I say as evenly as I can, though my heart rate is increasing at the same clip it did while chasing Evander up the Mercy’s Point trail. “Confront them? Given what you just told us, it won’t be a peaceful meeting. We could try to plan but—”
“Look, I don’t think there’s a point to a plan,” Hex responds, accepting the second glass from Evander. “We wanted to warn you guys. After what happened tonight, I’m not sure we can talk to you publicly in any way that’s not antagonistic. If we’re not plainly your enemies, we’re not contributing to the family cause.”
“Bullshit,” Evander snarls over the lip of his glass.
And honestly, I agree with him.
“You came here. You know what’s right,” I say. “If your dad is who you say he is, we need to make sure he doesn’t gain control of the Four Lines, no matter his actual role in whatever those three may have planned.”
Ada’s expression gathers like a thunderstorm. “I don’t care who’s in charge after all of this, but I’m telling you right now the only way my father is going to allow someone other than himself to have control of the Four Lines at the end of all this is if he’s six feet under.”
“Yep,” Hex agrees, nearly glib, before downing the entirety of the scotch, grimacing as the burn hits. He immediately moves to pour another.
There’s a long silence and then—“Why don’t we just give it to him?”
Winter’s voice is quiet but sharp.
“What?” at least three of us ask.
“Hector,” she says, louder, braver.
“You—you want to give my father the title?” Hex asks with a wincing cough as he pounds his sternum, willing his most recent drink down his throat. “After all we just said?”
“A title is not worth any more lives,” Winter tells him, steel in her voice and edging every syllable. Her blue eyes, shiny with new tears, scan the room now, pleading. “Let’s just give it to him if he wants it so badly.”
“Win,” I start, pressing my fingertips to my temples because I can’t believe I have to say this out loud, “he actively tried to kill Evander and Lavinia today. He could’ve murdered Ursula and maybe Luna. We can’t just give in to that.”
“Why not? Why don’t we give in? What does it matter anyway?” Her entire carriage from her pleading eyes to the tips of her dirt-scuffed shoes is hopeless.
