Drop of Doubt (46 page)

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Authors: C.L. Stone

BOOK: Drop of Doubt
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Muriel pulled my hair. I cried out. She dragged me back toward the staircase.

“Wait,” Victor’s voice called to us. “Muriel wait a second.”

Muriel stopped, but still held my hair tight in her hands. “Victor?” she said, her wild, angry voice restrained now, but it sounded forced. Like she was used to addressing him in a certain way.

“It’s me,” Victor said. “I was asleep and you weren’t there, so I came to find you.” His voice sounded pained, but masked in softness.

What was he doing? He was going to get hurt like the others.

“Let her go,” Victor said calmly.

“She’ll tell on us,” Muriel said. “She’ll hurt you.”

“She can’t,” Victor said. “She won’t. I’ll protect us. Come on. We can get out of here. But you have to put her down first.”

I fumbled, stuttering, unsure. This didn’t seem possible. Victor was making wild promises and acting crazy. I wondered if it was the after-effects of the drugs.

But the moment he stepped close enough, I could tell. His eyes were a little dull from the syringe of whatever she had plunged into them. His hands were spread out as he inched closer. He completely avoided my eyes and focused on Muriel. Somehow, still, I could tell. He was coaxing her for a reason. I had to trust.

Muriel’s allowed some slack in my hair, but she still held firm. “You’ll come with me?”

“I’ll go anywhere you go,” he said. “We’ll find a place we can be together. Just the two of us. I’ll even play your favorite song.”

Muriel’s hands tightened in my hair again, shoving me forward. “We need to make sure.”

“No, wait,” Victor said. His footsteps came closer. He was so close, that through my tears of pain, I had to fight the urge to reach for him. I thought I’d tell him all my secrets. Victor, so understanding and kind, who didn’t make fun of me when I’d admitted I was afraid of the shower. He understood me. He did so much for me.

Muriel’s fingers pulled tighter, causing me to release a cry. “I need to make sure. For us...”

“Let her go,” Victor said, his voice lighter than before. Soothing. Almost similar to how he’d talked to me in the bath. “If she dies, they’ll hunt us forever. We’ll never be free. She won’t follow us if you let her go.”

Muriel’s voice broke, and it sounded like she was sobbing. “Victor, help me.”

Victor stepped forward. That’s when I saw it. The syringe in his hand that he tried to keep hidden. “Muriel. Trust me. Let me take her...”

She reeled back. Muriel’s hands grasped me again. “No!” She cried out, tugging at my head. “Don’t touch her. Don’t ever...”

I found my opening. I struck out, hitting her in the stomach. Her hands seized me harder and pushed forward.

I careened toward the stairs, but stopped short. Arms wrapped around my waist, catching me before I could crash to the bottom. The overwhelming scent of spring soap filled my nose.

“I’ve got you,” Mr. Blackbourne said, drawing me in and away from the stairs, away from Muriel.

Muriel flew beside me, hitting the stair rail hard. Her hands released me, but Victor caught her.

At the same time, he plunged the needle into her arm.

“No,” she cried. “Victor...”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He drew her back until she was safe from toppling down the stairs. She fought him, crying, pleading with him to release her. Soon, her voice slurred. Her body went limp. Victor laid her on the floor.

I gasped as arms threaded around my body. I found my face pressed against a bare shoulder.

I held on to Mr. Blackbourne, trying to find comfort.

“Victor?” I whispered quietly, shaking.

He raised his eyes, meeting mine. The fire returned. “You’re safe, Princess.”

WE ARE ALWAYS

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T
he Memminger Auditorium in downtown Charleston was packed with over seven hundred people. I hid behind the red curtains to the left of the stage.

Victor sat behind a black grand piano. Lights overhead shined only on him. He wore a tuxedo, picked out by Gabriel, that featured a silver tie and other silver accents. I thought he never looked more refined. Whatever he might have said about hating concerts, it was clear he loved the music. His head swayed with the rhythm. He played with his eyes closed most of the time.

When he opened his eyes, he stared off across the piano. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, but I met his stares. I wanted to be there for him.

Only my heart wasn’t totally focused on this concert at the moment. The events of the night before rolled over in my mind. Mr. Blackbourne had insisted that I leave the area with Victor. Dr. Green and the others were called in for emergency assistance. I wanted to stay to help and figure out what was going on, but Victor forced me out. We retreated back to Nathan’s house.

“We need to maintain our appearance that nothing is wrong,” Mr. Blackbourne had said. “Especially Mr. Morgan. This is the last place we want this kind of attention.”

I shifted from one foot to the other on the stage, wearing a pair of flats that were hard on my feet, but Gabriel said they were the only things in Nathan’s closet he could find at the last minute. The skirt and blouse weren’t really acceptable for the black-tie affair that this was, but since I was behind the curtains and no one could see me, it was good enough.

I didn’t think, at first, that this should be happening. I thought Victor would need more time to recover. When Gabriel and Luke came by the house and told us Victor was supposed to go to his concert as planned, I insisted on going and no one argued. In fact, they seemed to encourage it.

Victor started up another song, flowing into the music. I was lost in his melody and almost missed the footsteps that drew close behind me.

I turned, finding Mr. Blackbourne looking past my head out at Victor.

“Mr. Blackbourne?” I said, staring at the dark gray tuxedo with a matching gray tie. The cut of it was stunning, nearly putting to shame everyone else in the audience who had dressed up for the night. It wasn’t a surprise to me. I simply admired it. Perfection was who Mr. Blackbourne was. “What’s going on? Is everything—”

His hand drifted up, hovering in the air. His steel eyes locked on mine, as assuring as his words. “Everything is taken care of.”

“Where’s Muriel?”

“Inside the Academy hospital. We’ll see that she gets treatment. She’s a very ill little girl. If any of you had been severely hurt or killed, this would have escalated to involving the police and if that were the case, she’d face years in prison. She’s lucky you arrived.”

“How’s North? What about the house?”

“He’s fine. Luke and Gabriel are cleaning up the rest of the house now. They’ll call security back once they’re finished. Apparently Miss Addison had confused the schedules on purpose. Mrs. Morgan had left her in charge for the night while they were away. Miss Addison knew all the security codes and procedures to do so.”

“How did she manage to do all this?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, it was only a millimeter, and full of expectation. “I think you know that one.”

“She had my phone, the one I thought had broken. When she saw I had it, she acted like I stole it from her. She had access to his office. So she might have taken one of the boys’, too.”

“Mr. Morgan relies too heavily on trusting other people in his space. I appreciate the sentiment of him collecting our broken toys, but from now on, all items turned into him either need to be recovered completely, or destroyed. She was able to discover much more about us by lurking around his things, including the location of a stun gun, and other equipment. She used our own tools against us.”

“What about his computer? What about Volto?”

He frowned. “After you left and Muriel checked on us again, I had to get North out of the way so he wouldn’t get hurt if she returned. When I heard you getting Muriel to chase you, I went to Victor and helped him down the stairs, hoping he could talk some sense into her. When I got back to the office, the dragon desk had been opened.”

I gasped. He’d been in the house the whole time? “Did he find something?”

“We need Victor to do a trace to see what he was interested in, but from what I’ve seen, he copied the history files. He wanted to see what Victor had been doing.”

I pressed a palm to my cheek. “So he really was after his computer.”

“I believe he was working with Muriel, although I’m not sure in what capacity. From what I’ve gathered from her, she was promised she would get Victor somewhere they could be alone. She followed Volto’s instructions. He was guiding her, and she let him into the house. He may have orchestrated this entire ordeal.”

“But I took my phone from him.”

Mr. Blackbourne pursed his lips. “I’m proud of you for it, but I believe it was planted. I think he wanted you to take it.”

“He did?”

“Luke mentioned you weren’t very good at pickpocketing.”

He had told me that. “He wanted me to find it? He wanted me to go to Victor’s house?”

“I don’t think he ever planned to fulfill the promises he’d made to Muriel. Muriel herself may never have pursued her overzealous feelings for Mr. Morgan. I believe she was lured into it by this Volto. He saw an opportunity and pushed her into it to get to what he wanted.”

“Victor said there wasn’t anything important on his computer.”

“That might be true,” he said. “But Volto may be able to piece together a few things. There might be a few clues.”

“Academy secrets?”

Mr. Blackbourne pursed his lips. “Maybe, but he doesn’t seem interested in the Academy itself. He seemed focused on our group. There are much easier Academy targets if he really knew his way around like he says he does.”

“He almost made it sound like he was in the Academy before.”

“I doubt it. He’s not our type.”

“He’s smart.”

“He’s manipulative and dangerous. He’d never get past registration. Whatever he thinks he knows, he’s picking up from outside sources. He’s stringing together bits and pieces and possibly coming to the wrong conclusions.”

I wanted to ask something else, but the tempo to Victor’s song changed dramatically. I turned, and his head was lifted, his eye caught mine. Now I was sure he could see me. He started to smile now.

I sensed Mr. Blackbourne stepping up behind me. “Miss Sorenson,” he said, the authority and command stripped from his voice, replaced by something much softer. “How did you know it was me in that room? I could see you turn when you wanted to run. You paused and called my name. How did you know?”

My cheeks heated. I hoped he wasn’t close enough to see my cheeks from where he stood. “I could smell you.”

“Smell me?”

I nodded. “Spring soap. It was on top of everything else, like you were right there. I could have been wrong, but I was pretty sure.”

He was quiet for a long moment.

I watched as Victor lost himself into the music again. His head swayed back and forth, similar to the way he often walked beside me, drifting to the beat of music in his head. “Victor said he asked you guys not to come to his concerts.”

“He did ask, but we show up anyway,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “We attend them all, when possible.”

I knew the answer to this, but I asked anyway. “All of them?”

“We never really leave one of our own. Mr. Morgan rejects the idea of seeking out any pleasure in the concerts he performs. He didn’t want to enjoy the same music his father forces him to play.”

“He’s okay with me being here,” I said quietly.

Fingertips brushed my arm soothingly. “Maybe you’ve finally shown him. He doesn’t have to do it for them. One day, his parents won’t be able to control his life like he allows them to now. One day, his parents will fade away, and all that will be left is the music he really does love.”

Another scent caught at my nose, something stronger above the soft musk Gabriel had placed on me earlier and Mr. Blackbourne’s spring soap. It took a moment, but when I recognized the heady rose scent, I turned.

Mr. Blackbourne held a bundle of stemmed Chrysler Imperial roses. Offhand, I thought there were a dozen, thinking that’s how they were sold. When I checked again, I counted nine.

“I’ve been told you didn’t want any gift,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “I hope you’ll forgive this one exception for your birthday. We didn’t want you to think we’d forgotten or that it wasn’t important.”

I wanted to say something, anything, but the tears choking my throat threatened to take over.

Mr. Blackbourne said nothing, but passed the flowers to me. I curled my arms around them, surprised by the weight. My fingers found the petals, touching each flower as if doing so was touching each of them.

The music changed. Caught off guard, I didn’t recognize it at first. I turned again when I recognized Winter by Vivaldi, a song I once told Victor was one of my favorites. It had been so long since that day, the day I first met him. But he remembered.

And he looked right at me as he played, his fire eyes an inferno.

“Thank you,” I said, to both Mr. Blackbourne and to Victor, even though I knew Victor couldn’t hear me.

“You’re always welcome, Miss Sorenson.” I felt Mr. Blackbourne’s hand touch at the base of my neck, warming my skin.

That tiny touch, that soft turn of affection, was the last straw for the tear that slid down my cheek. It was the first time that I felt it. It was the first time that I was sure. That special link that I had been looking for.

Mr. Blackbourne seemed to understand me completely, reading my thoughts. “I tried to deny it before, too. I can’t any more. You belong with us.” He reached out, his finger catching the tear on my cheek, cleaning my skin. Mr. Blackbourne, the perfectionist. He leaned down, his voice a soft whisper in my ear. “Stay with us. Always.”

~ A ~

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W
hen the concert was over, Victor hustled into the dressing room. This was the worst part of the evening. He’d already gotten word that Sang had to be escorted out of the building. He was glad for it, but sorry he couldn’t see her before she left. He would have liked to have held her one more time before having to hobnob with the snobbery-elite. It probably would have calmed his nerves a lot more. It couldn’t be helped. Sang had to avoid being noticed.

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