Iron Cast(93)

“Liebfraumilch,” said a voice behind her.

Corinne turned to face Eva Carson. She was still in her robe, with her hair now pulled into a loose braid.

“Not my favorite,” Eva said. “I prefer a good brandy.”

Corinne slid the bottle back into place. There was still some blood crusted under her fingernails, and she felt momentarily nauseated. She squeezed her hands into fists at her sides.

“Thanks for putting us up,” she said to Eva.

“It’s only for a few hours.” Eva examined her own nails, picking at a cuticle. “I still might change my mind if I don’t like your explanation as to why you’ve shown up at my doorstep at six in the morning.”

“Ask Charlie.” Corinne had no desire to talk about the night before, much less with Eva Carson.

“I’m asking you.”

“Madeline Gretsky’s dead,” Corinne snapped. “Johnny killed her while he was trying to kill us.”

A wrinkle formed in Eva’s brow, but she wasn’t shaken. “Why?”

Corinne tried to move past her, but Eva grabbed her wrist. Her nails dug into Corinne’s skin.

“Why?” she asked again. Her voice had a barbed edge.

“You were right about him,” Corinne said, jerking her arm away. She stumbled back into the shelf. Glass rattled, but nothing fell. “He was trading hemopaths to Haversham for money, like we’re goddamn baseball cards.”

Fury, restrained but undeniable, flashed across Eva’s face. Most of the victims had been Carson’s crew. Corinne wondered how many had been Eva’s friends, or if a woman like Eva even had friends.

“Why did he fake his death?” Eva asked. “What else is he planning?”

“I don’t know,” Corinne said.

“You’re lying.”

“Do you think if we knew anything, we’d be crawling to you for help?” Corinne demanded.

“I think you know more than you’re telling me, and if it’s something that puts my business in danger, I have a right to know.”

Eva was much taller than Corinne, and the shadows cutting across her face transformed her graceful features into a portrait of severity. Corinne had the uncomfortable thought that if Eva was a hemopath, she had no idea what kind. If she didn’t know what to expect, she couldn’t guard herself against it.

“Cor, come on.” Ada was at the other end of the aisle. She had shed Charlie’s coat, revealing the rust-colored blotches all over her dress.

Corinne watched Eva take in Ada’s appearance, watched the twinge of horror in her expression when she realized it was blood. That made her feel better somehow. She went to stand by Ada.

“Is Madeline really dead?” Eva asked. The severity was muted now. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the stains on Ada’s dress.

Corinne nodded.

“And Silas Witcher was taken to Haversham?” Eva said.

“Yes,” said Corinne.

Without her lipstick, Eva’s lips were a pale pink. She pressed them together and shook her head.

“I don’t like admitting when I’m wrong,” she said. “I never trusted Dervish further than I could throw him, but even that was too much apparently. I should have helped you two when you came to the Red Cat that night to talk to Luke. If the HPA got to Witcher, then they can get to any of us.”

“They already have,” Corinne said. She was thinking about Gabriel again, about how much he knew, about how much she had told him.

“So what can I do?” Eva asked. She had recovered from her temporary distress and stood as regal as ever. She might as well have been wearing a coronation gown. Corinne couldn’t fathom how she had ever thought that Luke Carson was in charge.

“Nothing yet,” Corinne said, exchanging a glance with Ada.

“Just let us stay for a couple of hours,” Ada said.

“And what are you planning on doing after that?” Eva asked, her left eyebrow cocking.

“Something daring and stupid, I’m sure,” Corinne said, locking her arm with Ada’s.

“Our specialty,” Ada said.

Eva’s eyes, canny and calculating, scrutinized each of them in turn.

“You’re both really quite young, aren’t you?” she said, and shook her head. “The liquor truck only delivers on Thursdays, so you can stay until five, when the club opens.”

She lifted her hand in what was ostensibly a wave but felt more like a dismissal. Then she left.

Corinne and Ada stayed behind the shelf, listening to her footsteps creaking on the stairs.

“Did the most powerful woman in Boston just offer to be our ally?” Corinne asked, once the door had shut.

“Seems like it.”

“I feel like we should celebrate. There should be cake or something.”

“There’s plenty of champagne,” Ada said, dragging her fingers across the bottles. “But honestly, sleep sounds like a better reward right now.”

Corinne laughed. It felt strange, like the mirth was seeping through the cracks in her anger and grief. Ada smiled, but there was something sad behind her eyes. The moment was suddenly heavy, as if they had both just remembered what still hung between them.

“I wish there had been another way,” Ada said.