“I’m sure she’ll want lunch soon.”
Wolf says to me, “You can wait here. Eat lunch together.”
My first instinct is to snap—I’m not eating any lunch.
But Wolf set his rules last night. I’m bound to eat three meals a day, same as I have to see his doctor, as I’ve promised not to cut. He’s testing me, with Ms. Sutton as a witness.
I could fight. Call him all the names that boil up inside my skull. Flounce out of the cottage and cross the street alone. Lock myself in our bedroom, or better yet, the jacks.
But he’d just laugh at the names. He’d catch up with me before I got halfway across the road. He’d break down our bedroom door and leave it in splinters, same as the jacks.
And I truly do want to speak with Granny.
“Fine,” I say.
“Fine?” He isn’t satisfied with winning. He wants to hear me cave in front of Ms. Sutton.
“Fine, I’ll eat my goddamn lunch. Fine, I’ll wait in the garden. Fine, you win, you feckin’ shitehawk. Is that what you want me to say?”
“Close enough,” Wolf says, unruffled as ever. “Text Nilssonwhen you’re ready to come back to the main house. He should have you added to security by then.”
I can’t bring myself to look at Ms. Sutton as I escape to the spring garden. My phone trembles in my fingers when I dig it out of my pocket. Bright red badges tell me I’ve missed dozens of phone calls, emails, and texts. I know I should check them. There might be something important.
Instead, I phone Breagha. She answers, just as the call is about to roll to voicemail.
“Kate!” She sounds breathless. “You shouldn’t be calling on your honeymoon!”
“I’m not?—”
“Where are you?” she asks. “No! Let me guess!”
“Breagha—”
“Hawaii!”
“I didn’t?—”
“Barbados?”
“No.”
“Did he take you all the way to Paris?”
She sounds more excited than a little girl opening presents on Christmas morning. It seems cruel to tell her the truth. She could never understand Wolf, and if she caught even a glimpse of the dungeon downstairs…
“Paris,” I say. “You guessed it.”
Breagha laughs with delight. “You’re so lucky. I’m stuck here in Baltimore, tiptoeing around the house. Mam has one of her migraines…”
I’ve been out of Baltimore for less than twenty-four hours, but Breagha’s world already sounds far away. Her happy chatter makes me more restless than Wolf’s domineering rules. I interrupt after a minute or two, telling her a limo is waiting to take us to the Eiffel Tower.
After I end the call, I’m more unsettled than ever. Glancing back at the carriage house, I dive into Winter Reckoning on mymobile. I’m still contemplating the most bloody kill I can make when MaskedMarauder opens a private channel for us to talk.
MaskedMarauder: Ready to sell your soul for a fortune made of light?
The words vibrate on the screen. The Red Cap tattoo on my thigh starts to throb.
My answer should beno. I have a new life now. Everything’s different. Everything’s out of control. I can’t raid with Wolf watching over me.