Caraval (Caraval, #1)(56)

“I saw pictures,” Scarlett said. “If she was your sister, why were you just standing there? I saw you wearing a top hat.”

“You think I’m Legend because you looked at pictures and saw me wearing a top hat?” Julian sounded as if he wanted to laugh.

“It wasn’t just the top hat!” Though that might have been most of it. But there were still other things he wasn’t telling her. “How did you know what to do when I was dying?”

“Because I heard people talk about it when I watched the game before. It’s not any secret, but most people aren’t willing to give up their life for someone else, even small pieces of it.” He gave Scarlett a pointed look. “I get that you have problems with trust,” Julian went on roughly. “After meeting your father, I don’t blame you. But I swear, I’m not Legend.”

“Then how did you get back to La Serpiente the other day after you’d been hurt? And why didn’t you meet me in the tavern when you were supposed to?”

Julian let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t know how this will prove that I’m not Legend, but I didn’t meet you at the tavern because the night before I’d been bashed in the head. I slept in, and when I got to the tavern you were already gone.” He smirked, but something about it was off. Too forced.

Even if Julian wasn’t Legend, he wasn’t being entirely honest. His hands were clenched, holding his secrets the way Scarlett so often clutched her fear, as if letting go would unravel him.

“If you’re really here to stop Legend, I can’t imagine you’d just sleep in one night. And it still doesn’t explain how you got back into La Serpiente that day.”

“Why are you so obsessed with that?” A frustrated shake of his head. “All right, fine. You want to know the truth?” Julian leaned in close, until his cool breath was on her neck, the cool scent of him all over her skin, and the tunnel seemed to be made of nothing but him.

“I didn’t sleep at all. I left you sitting in the tavern on purpose because after being with you in the room the day before I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to see you again.” His eyes dropped to her lips, and Scarlett shivered. In the dim tunnels it was too dark to make out their color, but when he looked back up she pictured two hungry pools of liquid amber fringed by dark lashes. It was the exact same way he’d stared at her before, when his back had been against the door and she’d been pressed against him.

“I started this game with a simple mission.” Julian paused, swallowed thickly, and when he spoke again his voice was rough and low, as if it was hard for him to get out the words. “I came here to find Legend and avenge my sister. My relationship with you was meant to end right after you got me into the game. So yes, I haven’t been completely honest about things, but, I swear, I am not Legend.”

Scarlett imagined he could have crumbled stone with the force of his words. Julian always seemed to be covering up how he truly felt, but his last six words had been stripped bare. His tone may not have been sweet, but Scarlett heard nothing but truth in it.

Taking an intentional step back, Julian slowly reached in his pocket and lifted out a note. “I found this in Dante’s room. I was down here to meet him, not kill him.”



* * *



J—

Valentina is still missing. I think Legend is onto us.



* * *





A flicker of a memory.

Valentina was Dante’s sister.

Scarlett shook as she recalled the last time she’d seen Dante alive. He’d been frantic with worry in the stairwell. Maybe if Scarlett hadn’t lost that day, she would have been able to help him find her. “I should have done something,” she muttered.

“There was nothing you could have done,” Julian said flatly. “Valentina was supposed to meet us here the night I got my head bashed, but she never showed up.”

Julian explained that the tunnels ran under everything. Maps were embedded at the mouth of each one, and they were mainly used for the Caraval performers, to easily get from one place to another. “And sometimes they’re used for murder,” Julian added wryly. His eyes were hooded, cheekbones sharper than usual, an expression made of shattered things.

Scarlett wished she knew how to fix him, but it seemed as if he was almost as damaged as she was. “Are you still set on revenge?” she asked.

“Would you try to stop me if I was?” He cast his gaze down the hall toward Dante’s dead, twisted body.

Scarlett felt as if her answer should have been yes. She liked to believe there were always options besides violence. But Dante’s murder and Valentina’s disappearance took away any illusions that Caraval was merely a game.

Scarlett had thought her father was vicious, but Legend was just as much of a monster. It seemed her nana hadn’t lied when she’d said the more Legend played the role of a villain, the more he’d become one in reality.

Tentatively, Scarlett reached out and took Julian’s hand. His fingers were tense, cold. “I’m sorry about your—”

The echo of footsteps cut her off. Steady, determined, and close. She couldn’t hear any voices, but she swore she recognized the gait. Instinctively, she pulled her hand from Julian’s. “I think that’s my father!”