Belladonna (Belladonna #1)(108)
“There’s been no word from him yet,” Blythe said, her light dimming. “Though I’m sure that he’ll send word once he’s settled.”
“Of course he will.” Charlotte squeezed Blythe’s hands, though Signa could see the doubt in her face.
It was a relief when Elijah tapped a crystal flute to draw the crowd’s attention. The guests began to quiet, even Eliza, whose laughter ceased when Julius glared at her with a look that had Eliza promptly lowering her fan.
“We want to thank you all for joining us tonight,” began Elijah. Byron stood to his right, with Julius just behind him. “Grey’s has been in my family for four generations. We Hawthornes have run it with pride, and we have immense respect for the institution. So much respect that, as it’s grown beyond us, we were not so foolish as to believe we alone could keep up with it. As of this day, we would like to welcome His Grace, Julius Wakefield, into Grey’s, and to announce our official partnership with the Wakefield family. We’d also like you all to bear witness to this moment as we embark on a new legacy that we hope will continue for many years to come.”
Elijah held up a contract with such flourish that several guests began to clap. He presented it to Julius, who stepped forward with a quill in hand to sign the document. After adding his name, he addressed the clapping crowd with a practiced grin. “I look forward to this new venture,” he said, “and to our partnership!”
Elijah’s beaming could not have been any brighter. And though less enthused, Byron raised his glass for a toast. “Cheers to our partnership,” he said. “And to many more years to come.”
Signa raised her flute with them, as did the rest of the revelers, all clinking glasses with a bright exuberance that ignited the ballroom.
Julius made a show of finishing his champagne in one go. Three things happened then:
First came the gasping breath of Julius, whose eyes bulged as he clutched his chest and clawed at his throat.
Second came Eliza’s scream as the man fell, blood pooling in his mouth. Everett rushed for him with a desperate cry, and Signa followed.
And third came a chill that stole Signa’s breath and brought her to her knees at Julius’s side, where Death loomed over him. He looked down at Signa with a sigh. “You should be careful what you wish for, Little Bird.” And then he plucked Julius’s spirit straight from his body.
That spirit looked to Signa. “Ah,” Julius said, his head tilting as he observed her. “It seems you were telling the truth about those eyes.”
Oh, she could kill Death. Yet there was no chance to because the bodies around her began to slow, freezing in place. Death moved beside her at once, tense as a figure she’d not noticed stooped beside them—a young man with deep bronze skin and eyes of melted gold.
He inspected the shattered flute that had fallen out of Julius’s hand, picking up a broken shard and holding it up to the light. A few drops of liquid clung to it, and Signa’s breath ceased as she realized that the color was a tinge too blue. There was something wrong with the scent, too. Something bitter beneath the alcohol. Something that smelled of bitter almond.
It was no belladonna, but Signa knew poison when she encountered it.
“Fate is a funny thing, isn’t it?” The man’s voice sounded as ancient as the earth itself, the words such a low rumble that they caused the flutes of champagne to quake. Signa leaned back into Death’s grip as those golden eyes turned to her, unable to look away. She realized at once who they belonged to.
“What a pleasure it is to finally meet you, Signa Farrow,” Fate whispered. “It would appear that you have another murder to solve.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The journey of taking a book from an idea in your head to a tangible story that readers get to hold in their hands is a feat that takes a small army of amazing people who deserve all that thanks.
So thank you to Pete Knapp, the best agent I could ask for. Sometimes it feels like you are literally the other half of my severely type A brain, and I can’t even explain in words how wonderful that is. This industry is like being on a train that’s veered off course, only to end up on the tracks of a never-ending roller coaster. Which is to say that it’s ridiculously challenging to navigate, and I’m all the more thankful to be able to fully trust my business partner in all of this, and to know you’re always going to have my back. You are a wonderful agent—please never leave this industry. I am spoiled, and I will simply perish without you.
At Little, Brown Young Readers, thank you to my editor Hallie Tibbets for giving Signa and Death’s story a fabulous new home. You are a line-edit wizard, and this story is so much stronger and tighter because of you.
Deirdre Jones, thank you for swooping in and taking this story under your wings. I’m so excited to be working with you on the sequel.
Alvina Ling, Megan Tingley, Jackie Engel, Marisa Finkelstein, and Virginia Lawther, thank you so much for your hand in raising this book up and helping debut it out into the world.
Robin Cruise, for your copyediting wizardry, and for teaching me that not everything needs a comma. I will try my best to internalize that lesson moving forward, though I make no promises that the commas won’t somehow weasel their way in.
Proofreaders Chandra Wohleber and Kerry Johnson, for your sharp eyes and help catching even the most micro details.