Liv clutched the cat mask and tried to slow her pounding heart.
Her body tingled with the anticipation of seeing Stephen, but also with dread. Had everything changed in a single night? Yes, and she had wanted it to. She had wanted to give herself to Stephen, had been dreaming of such things since that very first day at the river, though the thought only struck her now.
“Freya, come with me,” she whispered, gazing at the first stars breaking through the darkening sky.
Liv held up her long skirt and hurried across the grass, following a couple up the wide porch stairs. Music and laughter drifted from the house.
She walked through the door, and the warmth and the scents of roasted meat and sugary confections took her breath away.
A man in a black tuxedo played a violin. Liv could not see his face. A long-nosed black mask with a sloped forehead and budding brows covered it.
Tall candelabras stood in every corner and cast the masked faces in golden light. Every surface held black vases overflowing with purple dahlias.
For several seconds, Liv stood in the threshold of the door, her heart pounding, her feet frozen. When soft, warm fingers grazed her elbow, she startled and cast her eyes up to see a man in a black tuxedo, pale blue eyes sparkling beneath a horned goat mask.
Stephen smiled, a secretive smile, and slipped into a group of people deeper in the foyer.
Liv did not follow him. Instead she lifted a glass of champagne from a tray when a black-clad waiter paused in front of her. The champagne was sweet and bubbly, and giddiness lit her from toes to scalp.
Hidden beneath her mask, Liv drifted into the parlor, where dozens of people stood in silk and satin gowns and black tuxedos - all mysterious in their masks.
Liv saw Stephen’s mother standing near the windows, her black hair in ringlets on her head. She wore a sparkling navy dress with a neckline that revealed her voluptuous pale breasts. The top half of her face was hidden beneath a glittering wolf mask.
Near the stairway, Liv saw Stephen watching her.
When she saw him break from the crowd and slip up the stairs, she followed him.
“I’ve thought of nothing but you all day,” he told her, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her close. He tasted of champagne and smoke, as if he’d been inhaling the cigars of the men tucked into the parlor downstairs.
“Me too,” Liv whispered, inclining her forehead against his.
They stood that way until a girl’s voice broke their silence.
“Stephen?”
Liv cringed at the sound of Veronica’s voice.
Stephen’s eyes lit up mischievously.
“Shh…” He put a finger to Liv’s lips and guided her into the shadows.
When Veronica appeared at the top of the stairs, Liv bristled. The girl wore a long, satiny lavender dress sheathed in sparkling chiffon. Her dark curls rose from the purple peacock mask she held coyly over her eyes. She took the mask away and flashed a huge, uncertain smile at Stephen.
“You made it,” he said, sweeping into the hallway and twirling Veronica around.
She laughed and put a hand to her neck, as if woozy from his adoration.
Liv glared at her and felt a terrible desire to push the girl down the stairs.
She watched as Stephen took her hand and led her to the third-floor stairwell. As he guided Veronica up the stairs, he glanced back at Liv, stretching out his free hand and beckoning for her to follow.
Chapter 39
Jesse
Jesse drove down the road that edged the dense woods of the Stoneroot Forest eventually pulling onto the shoulder and turning off the engine.
He didn’t know where Corey’s cabin was. He could easily spend days scouring the woods and never find it.
“But I’m here now,” he reminded himself, tucking his keys into the pocket of his coat and stepping from the car.
He walked through the trees, propping up branches every few feet to mark his passage back out.
As he moved deeper, he heard the crunching of twigs underfoot and ducked behind a wide oak tree. As he gazed into the Stoneroot forest, he saw a dark, cloaked figure dragging something through the woods. Whatever the man carried, it must have been heavy, for he stopped frequently, hunching over.
Jesse slipped out from behind the tree and crept closer.
The hooded figure’s head popped up, and Jesse slipped behind another tree.
This time when the figure bent over the object at his feet, Jesse saw that a man lay there. The figure held the man by his arms and dragged him through the dried leaves.
Was he witnessing a murder?
Jesse thought of shouting and running at the cloaked figure to scare him away, but as the figure bent over the man, the hood fell down, revealing wavy blonde hair.
Liv.
Her name was in his mind without warning. He didn’t know her and had no reason to suspect it was her, and yet…
“Liv,” he said, his voice ringing across the divide between them.
The woman’s head shot up, and she dropped the man’s arms.
She gazed at him, her brown eyes watchful and alert, like an animal considering if it should run or attack.
He held up his hands.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, though the man laying at her feet implied it was she who might hurt him.
“Who are you?” she asked, standing up tall. She was taller than she’d initially appeared, likely only a few inches shorter than his six feet.
“My name’s Jesse. I know about you. About George and Arlene and Stephen…”
Liv frowned, looked beyond him as if searching for his accomplice.
“I’m alone,” he said.
She lifted something from her chest. Jesse watched as she gazed at him through a small white stone. When she let it drop, it caught on a leather loop around her neck.
“Help me,” she said, reaching down for the man’s arms.
Jesse hesitated for only a second, and then he ran to where she stood. She was flushed, her breath short and quick, as if she’d pulled the man a long way.
When Jesse looked down at the man, he cringed. A red flower bloomed on the man’s chest. The blood was thick, and it pooled in the little hollow of the man’s breastbone.
“He’s been stabbed. I need to get him to the cabin,” she huffed, beginning to drag him.
“George Corey’s cabin?” Jesse asked.
Liv paused, a little furrow knotting her brow, and then she nodded.
“Shouldn’t he go to a hospital?” Jesse asked, thinking they should be dragging him out of the forest, not into it.
“They can’t bring him back,” Liv murmured. “He’s gone too far into the veil.”
Liv
When Liv saw George’s cabin, she gasped with relief and held tighter to Mack’s arms.
“Stay with me, Mack. Stay with me,” she murmured. “Get the door,” she told Jesse.
Jesse looked at her, confused.
“But there’s nothing,” he started, before growing silent.
Liv knew he hadn’t seen the cabin only seconds before.
He went to the cottage and pushed in the door before returning to Mack.
“Can you lift him?” she asked.
He nodded, though his face drained of color when he looked again at the wound in the man’s chest.
Liv hurried into the cabin, her stomach dropping at the dust-coated surfaces, the empty crow’s perch, the hearth as cold as a grave. She gathered twigs and leaves, building the fire quickly, breathing huge billows of oxygen into the budding flames as George had taught her so long ago.