Revenge and the Wild(31)

The hairs stood on Westie’s arm. “You’ve been talking to Cain Fairfield?”

Isabelle smiled the devilish smile she wore when talking about boys. “A little. Though I have to say, it’s difficult to focus on Cain when James is around, wouldn’t you agree?”

Westie looked at James, who was about four feet away, still in front of the apothecary. Their eyes met and his lit up. She scratched the back of her neck and brought her attention back to Isabelle. She wanted to tell her to avoid the Fairfields at all costs, but wasn’t sure how to do it without revealing her secret about them being murderers. Isabelle loved secrets. She had a trumpet for a mouth, and gossip was her favorite tune.

“He’s all right, I suppose,” Westie said.

“Well, I’d best get back to the apothecary. I’m sure the doctor will need alcohol and medicines to patch the woman up,” Isabelle said, though Westie was sure Isabelle was less concerned about the doctor’s needs than she was about being present in case any of those sordid details the sheriff seemed so concerned about just happened to slip from Nadia’s groggy lips.

After Isabelle left, Westie realized she’d forgotten to grab the extra set of clothes she’d brought for Alistair. On her way back to the wagon, she noticed someone strolling down the center of the road and froze.

Lavina wore a bright-yellow gown with lace trim and held a parasol shading her from the sun. Her hips swayed ever so slightly. So casual compared to Nadia’s screaming and fumbling as she ran down the same path.

As Westie watched Lavina join the Fairfield men, she remembered briefly wondering, while she’d been drinking in the Tight Ship, if the Fairfields were still cannibals. Most who had turned to cannibalism on the wagon trail did it only to survive and stopped once they were rescued. But for some, it became a craving, or maybe it was just madness. Either way, they couldn’t—or wouldn’t—stop.

It took animal savagery to tear at someone’s skin with their teeth, gnawing through fat and muscle, to hear someone’s agonized screams and feel nothing. Westie saw no compassion, no regret, as Lavina tilted her head back, laughing at something James was saying. Perhaps the rest of the family hadn’t been involved. Maybe they had moved on from hunting helpless families in cabins, but there was one thing Westie felt certain of: Lavina was still a threat.

The Fairfields headed toward her. She was reminded again of being back in the cabin, woken up by the screams of her mother.

“Westie, so good to see you again,” Lavina said when they were facing each other. Her dress was exquisitely made. There were no bumps or wrinkles at all in the fabric. Not something Westie imagined a cannibal would wear when on the hunt, but maybe that was the look Lavina was going for.

“Good to see you too,” Westie said with some semblance of grace. She held her ground, not wanting them to see her squirm. She kept her parasol close and twisted a gear at the wrist of her machine that made her middle finger twitch. It reminded her she was no longer that helpless little girl in the cabin, even if she still felt like it. “What brings you out today?”

“Actually,” the mayor said, “I was hoping to speak with the little savage girl I’ve seen you running around with.”

Westie bit the inside of her cheek, wanting to tell him that Bena was a woman, not a girl, and she was far from savage. But that would’ve meant sticking around to give a lecture. Without Alistair and Bena by her side, she wanted to be away from her present company as soon as possible.

“I’m sure I can get a message to her,” Westie said.

“Good. Some folks around here are concerned about what’s happening with the dome.”

When Hubbard took a step toward her, Westie flinched, nearly raising her arm to ward off an attack, but she stopped herself, remaining calm outwardly even when her insides rattled.

“If I’m going to invest my money in this machine, I need to know them savages will pull their weight,” Hubbard said. He had a bovine look to him and talked like a man slow in the head. Perhaps that was what eating humans did to the brain over time. If that was the case, it wasn’t working on Lavina. She seemed as sharp as ever.

“I’m sure whatever is happening with the dome, the Wintu have their reasons, and it will have no effect on Emma whatsoever,” Westie said. “I’ll see if I can set up a meeting with the Wintu’s chief as soon as possible.”

“Excellent,” Lavina said, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Now maybe we can finally get off the topic of money.”

When Lavina lifted her arm, Westie saw a brown smear on her sleeve and blurted, “Is that blood on your dress?” before she could stop herself.

James leaned over Lavina’s shoulder for a better look. “You two must bathe in the stuff. Westie was covered in it too just yesterday. Is this some beauty regimen we should be concerned about?” he said with a smirk.

Westie forced herself to smile at James’s quip, but her gaze remained on Lavina, who scratched at the dried brown swatch. She’d been in Rogue City less than a week and was already causing trouble. It was hardly enough blood to suggest she’d attacked someone, but it was there all the same.

“I must have pricked myself with the needle when I was sewing Olivia’s doll’s head back on,” Lavina said. She smiled as if to say there was nothing Westie could do to shake her. “Speaking of Olivia, I’d best go check on her. If she wakes and sees I’m gone, she’ll destroy the place.”