An Affair of Poisons(56)

Mirabelle crosses her arms. “I don’t need you to defend me.”

“I never said you did. But I followed your lead on the rue du Temple and at the H?tel-Dieu. Now it’s your turn to follow mine.”

Mirabelle scowls but complies.

Once she’s safely tucked away, I draw the dagger from my boot and edge toward the door. Most likely it’s a vagrant who took shelter in this seemingly abandoned shop. Nothing to fret over. Or it could be a Shadow Society patrol. Or what if it’s La Voisin herself? Or Lesage?

A thrill courses through me. Terror, yes, but also a vicious, ravening hunger. A burning hope that it is one of them. My bones scream for vengeance—for Rixenda, who took a knife for me. For my sisters, who deserve a life in the sun. For Mirabelle, who was rejected and forsworn to the enemy. And for my father—as much as it pains me to admit—who will never have the chance to see me as anything more than a bastard.

I roll my shoulders back and jam my boot into the door.

I’m so intent on finding La Voisin, shrouded in her double-headed eagle cape, I almost fail to recognize who stands before me.

“Desgrez?” A pulse of panic knocks me off-balance and my dagger clatters to the floor.

“You knew I would find you eventually.” His voice spreads like ice beneath my skin, and I step back. He stands in the center of the room, stance wide and arms crossed over another disguise—this time a tattered brown priest’s cassock.

“Desgrez,” I say again, cursing the bedamned tremor in my voice. “I can explain.”

“What is there to explain? You’re a liar and a traitor. You attacked me and ran off with the poisoner. You abandoned your sisters.”

“I haven’t abandoned anyone. And I didn’t betray you without reason. You’re my best friend—”

He laughs—a quick, mirthless rush of breath. “You’re no friend of mine.” He means to lash me with his words, but a hint of emotion creeps into his voice, and he coughs to chase it away.

“I’m telling you, everything I’ve done is for good reason. We have a plan to take back Paris.”

“Would you listen to what you’re saying? Referring to yourself and the poisoner as we! Yes, I’m sure she’ll help you hand the city right over to her mother. And your sisters along with it. Where is she?”

“Mirabelle wants nothing to do with her mother or the Shadow Society.” I drag my fingers through my hair. “If you would just listen—”

“And you’re foolish enough to believe her?”

“Has she ever given us reason to doubt? She guided us to safety during the procession, she healed the girls, she healed you. Or have you conveniently forgotten?”

Desgrez grunts. “I would have recovered on my own.”

“You were a dead man.”

“Better dead than a traitor.”

“For the millionth time, I’m not a traitor!”

“If you’re not a traitor, what, pray tell, is all of this?” He flings his hand at the counter cluttered with phials and forceps and herb packets. “It looks like a damned poison laboratory.”

“That’s part of our plan. If you would care to listen instead of snarling like the chimera atop the towers of Notre-Dame, I’d be happy to explain.”

Desgrez folds his arms and glowers—the closest I’m going to get to an invitation.

“We’re brewing curatives—not poison,” I say pointedly, “which we’ve been distributing to the common people in the name of the royal family—to earn their favor and support. In addition to medication, we’re offering the people a say in the government once Louis is restored to the throne—elected officials who will bring their concerns before the king. And we are devising an antipoison to administer to the remaining nobles whom La Voisin plans to target, so they will be indebted to us too. It will be a union of the common man and noble man—something neither Father nor La Voisin could accomplish. We’ll be able to overthrow the Shadow Society with the strength of a unified city behind us.”

I look triumphantly at Desgrez. I’m getting rather good at making these speeches.

He’s silent for an endless moment, then he tips his head back and laughs. It feels like thousands of needles jabbing into my ears. “You poor witless fool! Please tell me the poisoner has tainted your water or sprinkled you with her devilish powders and that you don’t honestly believe this ludicrous plan will work.”

“It will work!” I bite back. “It’s a good plan!”

“Perhaps it would be if you could believe a word out of her wicked, lying mouth.”

“She’s innocent. She was used and betrayed by her mother—just like us.” Desgrez makes a show of wiping beneath his eyes and shaking his head, and my fingers curl into fists. “Stop laughing,” I say, my voice a growl.

“I’ll stop laughing as soon as you start using your head. I don’t care what she told you or what she claims. She’s lying. She’s still one of them. She will always be one of them.”

My heart bashes against my ribs like a caged bird, and my vision darkens around the edges, narrowing on Desgrez’s infuriating face.

“You’re impossible!” I shout. Then I do something very stupid—I lunge forward and ram my shoulder into Desgrez’s chest, which I know will end badly, since he’s the one who taught me to fight. He topples backwards and slams into the counter but somehow still manages to hook his foot around my ankle as he falls. Before I know what’s happening, the back of my head cracks against the dusty floor.