That had been a loaded phrase if she’d ever heard one. So freighted with emotion it should have sagged under its own weight.
Hugh didn’t hesitate. “Because in the end, her empathy killed her.”
21
“For all Eloise’s righteous defiance and defense of her individuality,” Hugh told Gwen, “she still loved our parents. Still wanted them to be proud. So as soon as we passed the bar, we both joined the family firm and began drafting contracts for billionaires and absurdly wealthy corporations.”
That didn’t sound like something either twin would enjoy, even given Hugh’s more duty-bound and rule-abiding temperament.
“The work could be…uncomfortable.” Hugh shifted restlessly. “Too many times, the opposing party was vulnerable in some way. In desperate need of money for their own survival, coerced into signing, or simply too unknowledgeable to understand what they were agreeing to. Without drawing undue attention to my actions, I tried to prevent my clients from taking advantage of that vulnerability, but I didn’t always succeed. Didn’t evenusuallysucceed.”
He blew out a hard breath. “And if I disliked those occasions, Eloisehatedthem. She also hated that her clients flagrantly broke both SERC and common human law but were never punished, while the opposing parties suffered for far less cause. So she started devoting most of her attention to her personal life instead of work. She married a colleague, Roarke. And…” His mouth twisted. “Without telling our parents, she made contact with our father’s estranged family.”
Ah, yes. The aforementioned lying grifters. Their entrance into the tale didn’t bode well.
“Dad didn’t lie. They were, in fact, chaotic criminals, and they pretended affection while wringing her dry emotionally and financially.” Hugh’s distress had turned his skin scorching, and Gwen kicked aside the blanket tangled near their feet. “She wanted their false love so badly, it took years for her to cut them off.”
Gwen frowned. “Her empath ability didn’t save her?”
That was one of the most useful parts of the talent—being able to tell when others’ emotions didn’t match their words. Sure, truthseekers could determine lies with more precision, but shouldn’t Eloise’s ability have given hersomewarning?
“She didn’t want to believe what her ability was telling her.” His expression darkened further. “I was worried about her, so I researched my father’s family and shared what I found.”
“She didn’t believe that either?”
He shook his head. “She called me overly cynical and cautious. Told me I’d cut myself off so completely from my human heritage, I couldn’t understand the complexities of their lives and emotions. And she was probably right. But so was I.”
Stark grief for his sister’s loss roughened his voice. “Eloise wasa shining beacon, Gwen. Funny, kind, loving. Only someone without a heart could possibly stand to break hers, but my father’s family did it without remorse. And they weren’t alone. She didn’t know it yet, but her new husband had already begun sleeping with his administrative assistant.”
“Oh,no.” Gwen cringed in sympathy for his sister—and discreetly nudged her braid away from her neck, because the heat of his anger was making her sweat. “That’s awful, obviously, but it’s also sobanal. Like a cliché of conscienceless men with wealth and power.”
“I think part of El hated that cliché as much as the actual adultery.” A deepening flush burnished the thick, smooth skin over his cheekbones. “Roarke confessed the affair and left her. And since infidelity is quite common in higher demon circles, his admission of cheating didn’t hurt his social or professional standing. He left Blackes with his new wife to found his own firm and took his many clients with him.”
Hugh’s hands on Gwen were gentle, his memory-clouded eyes hard. “After a while, El’s grief turned to rage. Against her ex-husband. Against high demon society. Against our judicial system. She told me all our rigid rules were both arbitrary and unevenly, unfairly applied. They bound the helpless but not the powerful, and they did so by design, not by accident.”
“Well, she wasn’t wrong about that,” Gwen couldn’t help saying.
“I know. I know.” He blew out a hard breath. “I didn’t argue, because I couldn’t. And I was angry for her sake too, but I didn’t know how to make things better.” His every muscle strained with tension. “Then came that final, awful contract ten years ago. Those senseless human deaths. The fire. Thenhersenseless death.”
Gwen hoped being frozen to death didn’t hurt. And whateverafterlife assignment his sister had received, Gwen wished her peace, as well as all the love Eloise had offered others and been denied in return.
“In the end, all the warmth in her huge heart went cold.” His face twisted in anguish. “Just like the rest of our hearts, she’d probably have said.”
“Hugh.” She framed his hot, pained face in her hands, willing him to think past his obvious guilt. “She loved you, and she could feel your emotions. Do you honestly think she’d have ever called your heart cold?”
His lips trembled briefly, and he pressed them tightly together. “Probably not.”
She raised a challenging eyebrow. “Probably?”
“Definitely,” he conceded reluctantly. “She definitely wouldn’t have said that about me.”
Gwen couldn’t contain her skepticism on another point either. “The CEO and his fixer…do you believe she truly would have turned them inside out like they claimed?”
“I don’t know.” He turned his face into Gwen’s palm with a tired sigh. “If so, she never intended to survive the encounter. For half-demons, the enormous outlay of power would kill us on the spot.”
In that moment, perhaps it was a price she’d been willing to pay. Which was a horrifically sad thought to entertain, even without knowing Eloise.
“Was she taken…” Gwen bit her lip and tried again. “Were you able to…”
