Undertow (Whyborne & Griffin #8.5)(19)

“Those things don’t have friends, you little fool.” I couldn’t make out his face through my tears, but his voice was implacable. “I killed a monster. And in doing so, I saved you.”

“Saved me?” I would have laughed if I could.

“Yes.” He hauled on my arm again. “You’ve been tricked, somehow. That’s the only explanation. But I’ll show you the truth, whether you want me to or not.”

I wanted to scream again, and pray help came for me. But if the police answered, would they side with Oliver or with Persephone?

It wasn’t even a question. They’d believe Oliver when he said I was hysterical after being attacked by an inhuman creature. They’d realize Persephone was still alive and kill her right in front of me.

Making a fuss would only endanger Persephone. And the longer we lingered here, the more likely it was Oliver would realize Persephone was still breathing.

Was she still breathing?

I didn’t know, and couldn’t look. If she was still alive, I couldn’t risk drawing Oliver’s attention to her.

I forced myself to my feet, fighting off a wave of nausea as I did so.

“Thank you,” he said. “I must say, it was a bit of a shock, seeing you speaking with one of them. But you don’t understand, that’s all. You will when I explain.”

I didn’t reply, only let him drag me along. Either shock or concussion stole moments of time from me, and the unreality of the thick fog helped nothing. It wasn’t until we stood beneath the unlit marquee that I realized where he’d been so bent on taking me.

The Undertow.

*

“You must have a great many questions,” Oliver said as he entered the green room. “Of course, so do I.”

He’d dragged me into the theater and backstage, where he’d removed my coat—and with it, the summoning stone and knife in my pockets. Then he’d locked me in the green room.

Exhaustion, my head wound, and despair did their part. I collapsed to the couch sitting along one wall and lost consciousness, for how long I didn’t know. The old stones of the original church formed the back wall of the green room, and no windows opened to the outside. It might still be night, or after dawn, or even the middle of the day for all I knew.

Was Persephone safe? In pain? Had she made it to the river, to the ocean, to her people?

Was she even still alive?

If I thought too long about the latter possibility, I’d be reduced to a sobbing mess. Later there would be time for tears, but for now, I had to think clearly if I was to have any hope of leaving the Undertow alive.

I sat up and eyed Oliver warily. He grabbed one of the chairs and dragged it closer to the couch, before seating himself. “I thought you were still the sweet, innocent girl I always knew. And yet here I find you, consorting with a ketoi.” His face twisted with revulsion. “How did you learn about them? Did that abomination Dr. Whyborne lead you astray with false promises?”

Oliver knew about the ketoi. Was he a part of the cult?

My heart sank. We’d been friends most of my life, and yes, we’d drifted apart. But none of his letters had ever led me to believe he’d changed to such an extent.

Then again, he must be thinking the same thing about me right now.

My head ached fiercely, and I wanted nothing more than to lie back down on the couch. To sleep, and then wake and find it was all a dream. But it wasn’t, so I had to decide just how much of the truth to give him. “She—the ketoi—saved my life,” I said, which was close to the truth. Persephone would surely have killed the rat creature to keep it from me, if the cat hadn’t gotten it first. “I owe her.”

“Ah.” Oliver’s expression relaxed, the hardness leaving it. “Of course. I see it now. You’ve been led astray by girlish na?veté.”

If that was how he wanted to see me, it would be folly to argue. “She said Irene might be here,” I said, doing my best to look abashed. “You remember me telling you about how she disappeared? Irene is my friend; I had to help her.”

“There were things you didn’t know about Irene,” Oliver said regretfully. “You can’t imagine my dismay the other night, when she proved to be a hybrid.”

I pasted a look of shock on my face. “A hybrid?”

“Yes.” Oliver nodded. “Between your association with her and Dr. Whyborne, Mr. Ayers thinks you’re in league with the forces of darkness. Those who would bring about the end of the world.”

Could Oliver have simply misunderstood? Had he been the one led astray, fooled by the lies of the Fideles? I widened my eyes in what I hoped was a genuine look of horror. “Dr. Whyborne? Oh no, you must be wrong. I told you before, he’s a gentleman.”

“A mask of flesh over…well, I won’t trouble you further.” Oliver leaned forward. “Maggie…there are things I have to tell you. I’d thought to keep them from you, because the truth is terrible. The sort of thing no woman should be burdened with. But seeing as you’ve already been drawn into the web, used and taken advantage of by these villains, I fear I have no choice.”

Dread pooled in my limbs, but I fought not to let it show. “Then tell me.”

He took one of my hands. I forced myself to let it remain in his grasp, when all I wanted was to snatch it back.