“No, it was nothing like that.” Eloise flapped her hands at the notion Odette might speak directly to her. I worried she might knock herself unconscious if that rock on her finger clipped her. “I’m a practitioner. I’m training under Grandmother at the family firm.”
An unexpected pang hit me at the glimpse of yet another stolen future, one where I worked alongside a cousin, groomed by our maternal grandmother to take my place in the family business as a practitioner.
“She was supervising while I prepped the conference room for a new client meeting,” Eloise explained. “When the receptionist patched a call through, we assumed it was the client. He was nervous about our suggestion he consider inducing death in order to jumpstart the resuscitation process. He was a high-profile client and required…special handling.”
Inductions, ending human lives in their prime to raise vampires in peak condition, cost extra. “And?”
“I overheard Madame Lecomte mention Aunt Evangeline before Grandmother muted the call and sent me home for the day.” Her cheeks reddened. “I was curious why Madame Lecomte would call and drop your mother’s name.” She ducked her head. “Our mothers were twins, you see, and that bond has always fascinated me. Our family has multiple instances of fraternals whose magic—”
“Twins?” A peculiar ringing started in my ears. “No one told me.”
A heady truth swirled through me and left me weaving on my feet. Can I see a picture? That’s all I had to ask. One question, and she could show me a glimpse of Mom. No, not Mom. One of her possible futures. The hair, the makeup, the clothes, the expression—no matter how similar—belonged to someone else.
On the spot, I decided I never wanted to meet my aunt. I don’t think my heart could take seeing her.
“Mom sided with the family after the disownment,” she said, picking her manicured fingernails. “To my knowledge, she never saw or spoke to her sister again but…”
“She regretted turning her back on family,” I finished for her.
“Yes.”
“And you hoped that fence might be mended through you and I?”
“Yes,” she replied, slower this time. “After Madame Lecomte called, I scoured the family archives and discovered she lives in Savannah. A section of her file was dedicated to her friendship with your mother and Maud Woolworth.” She gnawed her bottom lip. “When I noticed the former Dame Woolworth also lived in Savannah, I followed up on a hunch, and I found you.”
Googling Maud would have turned up photos and mentions of me, mostly from fundraisers and galas, and those would name me as the Woolworth heir. But there was also Mom’s obituary to consider, and my very public adoption. Connecting the dots wouldn’t have been hard. Especially since a practitioner in Eloise’s position would have access to the Society databases.
“Woolly, what do you think?” Armed with amped-up wards, she ought to be able to scan Eloise down to the marrow for a reading on her intent. “Is it safe to let her in?”
“Woolly?” Eloise glanced at Amelie. “Who is Woolly?”
Neither of us enlightened her.
The porch light beside Eloise hummed thoughtfully before flaring her consent.
“Come in.” I made it an order. I wanted to get to the bottom of her interest in me. “Leave any weapons you’re carrying at the door. She won’t let you bring them in.”
“Weapons?” Her wide eyes rounded. “I’m unarmed.” Her hand lifted to her throat. “This is a social call.”
Amelie choked on a snort, and I elbowed her in the gut. Once upon a time, we had been that na?ve too. I wouldn’t be the one to tear off Eloise’s blinders. Truth be told, I relished the idea of at least one person thriving in our world who might never think to check for monsters under her bed.
“In or out.” I rolled my hand in a hurry-up motion. “Class starts in fifteen minutes, and my teacher gets his suspenders twisted if I’m late.”
Okay, so Linus had yet to wear suspenders, but I strongly suspected he owned a pair. How could he not? And if he didn’t? I knew what I was getting him for his birthday.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Eloise murmured as she stepped over the threshold. Or made the attempt. Woolly suspended her midstride, and the wards slid over her skin, assessing every inch of her. Thirty seconds later, Woolly released her, and Eloise stumbled into the foyer beside us, flailing like a salmon swimming upstream. “What was that?”
“Magic.” I took her by the elbow, guided her into the living room, and shoved her toward a couch. “Sit.”
She perched on the edge of the cushion, her spine ruler-straight, her legs crossed at the ankles.
Still half-naked and rather feral, Amelie stood behind Eloise, clutching the spoon in her fist.
“Okay, Eloise, let’s try this again.” I hooked my hands on my hips. “You found out I’m alive and decided to visit. Why?”
There must be more to this visit than smearing salve over her mother’s decades-old hurt.
“As I said, I hoped we could talk.” Her manicured fingers twisted into knots on her lap. “That maybe one day we might be friends.”
“Your family disowned her,” Amelie snarled, jabbing the spoon at the back of Eloise’s head like a deranged zombie fantasizing about using her skull as a bowl. “What right do you have to—?”
“Amelie,” I warned, flexing my palm until she surrendered her weapon. “Let her talk.”
“I understand your suspicion,” Eloise began. “I read articles about your time in…”
“Atramentous,” I finished for her.
Eloise swayed a bit, her hand again rising to her throat to clutch pearls she wasn’t wearing.
“I was locked away for five years for the murder of Maud Woolworth.” I cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m sure you can imagine how imprisonment changed me.”
The version of me who might have hugged her back and welcomed her into my home with happy tears had died locked in a cell buried so deep underground the tang of mold still coated the back of my throat on occasion.
“View this from my perspective.” I swept my gaze up and down her, doubting her kittens-and-rainbows outlook would allow for such a thing. “Some long-lost relative popping up on my doorstep after my reinstatement as the Woolworth heir makes your timing suspect.”
News of how the Grande Dame had pardoned her niece was circulating too. Eloise might be telling the truth. Maybe this was an innocent visit. Or she might be a ladder-climber who had spotted an opportunity to align herself with the Woolworth name under the guise of mending fences.
“This was a mistake.” Eloise shot to her feet and backed toward the foyer. “I shouldn’t have come.” She wiped her palms on her pressed slacks. “I wish things could have been different between us, Grier, I do, but this is too much.”
Woolly opened the door in an invitation to leave that Eloise was quick to accept.
I massaged the base of my neck after the locks snicked into place behind her. “That went well.”
“She shows up out of the blue all these years later?” Amelie pulled aside the curtain on the nearest window, and we watched Eloise get in her hired car and leave. “I don’t buy it.”
“Odette did call Dame Marchand. That part is true. She was hoping to get a lead on my father.”
“How do we know it wasn’t Dame Marchand who sent her protégé to woo you back into the fold? High Society families are always shopping for an angle.” The fabric crumpled in her fist. “Besides, you’ve already got one spy living on the property. You don’t need a matched set.”
“Better the devil you know.” Defending Linus just put her teeth on edge. There was no point trying when her mind was made up about him. “What are your plans for the night?”
“I’ll be diving into your finances here in a little bit.” Her yawn illustrated how much the prospect excited her. “I’m almost to the good stuff,” she assured me, retrieving her cell from parts unknown to check for messages. From Boaz. He was the only person calling her these days, and he checked in every forty-eight hours like clockwork. Yet he hadn’t so much as texted me since leaving her in my care. “Before I get bogged down by all those decimal points, I’m putting dinner in the Crock-Pot.”