“Well, this is a pretty picture,” a voice said somewhere on the edges of his consciousness, but he ignored it and dived deeper into Evelyn’s kiss.
It wasn’t until Evelyn was ripped from his lap and he sat gasping for air that he comprehended it was Esta who’d come in. She had Evelyn by the hair and was dragging her out of the room, and all Harte could seem to do was sit and stare mutely.
“Bitch,” she said, tossing Evelyn out of the room. “You come near him again, and it’ll be your last time.”
“You and what army is going to stop me?” Evelyn sneered.
“I’ll leave that to Dolph Saunders.”
“Dolph Saunders?” Evelyn looked suddenly uneasy.
“We understand each other, then,” Esta said, laying on her false accent thick.
“I understand fine,” Evelyn sneered. “You’re going to regret this.”
Esta didn’t bother to respond, simply slammed the door in Evelyn’s face. ?Then she turned to Harte, her golden eyes on fire. “You have something on your face,” she said, taking the glass of water on his dressing table and, without any warning, tossing it directly in his face.
He sputtered in surprise. “What—?”
“Oh, save it. You’re lucky I came when I did.” She crossed her arms. “I can’t believe you fell for her.”
“I don’t answer to you,” he snapped, feeling more uneasy than angry. But inside, he was a ball of panic and fury. What the hell just happened?
“After that little display, maybe you should. Lord knows you can’t take care of yourself.” She shook her head. “There’s enough magic in the air here to suffocate a person.”
“Magic?” he asked, stunned. His mind still hadn’t caught up to what was happening . . . what had happened.
Esta stared at him like she was waiting for him to put the pieces together.
Then he felt it—Evelyn’s affinity was still snaking through the room like opium smoke, curling about him. Still calling to him. Shit. Right when he most needed to keep his wits about him, he was losing his damn mind instead.
Turning back to the mirror, he saw for the first time the mess he was—the dark streaks running beneath his eyes from the water, the red ringing his mouth like one of Barnum’s clowns. No wonder Esta looked like she wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill himself when he thought about how stupid he’d been to let Evelyn touch him.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” he asked, taking out his frustration on her.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said, a furrow between her eyes. “You never came back to your apartment last night.”
“You were already asleep.” Harte tried wiping the red from his mouth.
“You weren’t there this morning,” she pressed.
“I left early.”
“Like I said, you’re avoiding me. You promised Dolph you’d help get Jack,” she pressed. “You made a deal.”
But he’d had enough of women for one day. “Dolph can go hang.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” she snapped. “People are disappearing. Tilly is dead.” Her voice broke at the admission.
“Dead?” He hadn’t realized. “I knew she was hurt, but—”
“She’s gone.” Esta’s shoulders sagged, and it seemed like all the fire in her had faded.
“When?”
“A couple of days ago—before Dolph sent me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“Are you really?” she asked, her voice flat, cold. He didn’t have an answer for that. “This thing we’re doing? It’s bigger than Dolph—bigger than either of us. I don’t care what you think about me or how angry you are that you’re stuck with me. This isn’t exactly a picnic for me, either, you know. But you need to pull yourself together and get over it. We need to get to work before you lose Jack Grew completely.” She softened her voice. “Or before anyone else has to die.”
Her words hit him like a slap, but he shoved away the pang of guilt he felt when he saw the sadness in her eyes. She wasn’t some innocent in this, whatever she might pretend. She was there because Dolph Saunders had penned him into a corner, but he knew that wasn’t the only reason.
“That’s a nice speech. But tell me something, Esta. Why are you really here?”
Her eyes went suddenly wary. “I don’t know what you mean. Dolph sent me to watch you. Why else would I be here?”
“You tell me. Who’s the old man?” he asked, taking a step toward her.
“What?” ?The color drained from her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned to go, but he grabbed her wrist.
He remembered the images he’d seen when he kissed her the last time she was in his dressing room. “I know about the old man with the crutch, in the room lined with books.”
“How could you possibly know that?” she whispered, not bothering to deny it. Her golden eyes were wide with disbelief.
“I know you’re not only here because of Dolph,” he pressed, ignoring her question. “You’re here for yourself—because the old man told you to find the Magician.”
“Please,” she said, trying to get away from him. “You’re hurting me.”
He saw then how tightly he was grasping her wrist and released her immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaken by the sight of the red mark he’d left on her delicate skin. He took a step back from her as she rubbed her wrist, hating himself for how easily his temper had spiked. How easily he’d become his father’s son.
When he turned back, her eyes were steady on him, calculating. “You were in my head.” ?She took a step toward him, closing the distance he’d put between them. “Is that what you do? Climb into people’s heads and violate their most private thoughts? Do you have any idea how wrong that is?”
He ignored the familiar wave of shame. “You cornered me in my dressing room and lied to Evelyn about who you were. So, yeah . . . I took a look. I needed to protect myself. I needed to see exactly what your game was.”
“When you kissed me,” she realized, raising her fingers to her lips. “Then you should have your answers already.” She lifted her chin, her eyes filled with disgust. And if he wasn’t mistaken, with fear.
“It doesn’t work like that,” he snapped, hating his own limitations. And hating that what he’d done—what he was—had made her afraid. . . . Just as it had his mother.
She huffed out a laugh. “You really expect me to believe that?” she asked, but her voice shook, at odds with her show of confidence.
“It’s the truth. I only get impressions unless I focus pretty intently, and if you remember, I was a little too distracted to really focus.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “I saw the old man, the library, and I heard him say ‘Find the Magician.’ That’s it. That’s all I know.” He didn’t look away, wouldn’t back down from this. “Who is he, Esta? I need to know why you came for me. I need to know why you’re really here.”