I tried to look upset that Egan was gone, but despite the fact that I’d become a method actor by default, I’m not entirely sure I managed.
Rachel was behind the bar, and when she caught my attention, I headed that way, passing by two round, bald men nursing Guinnesses in one of the booths.
“That her?” Tweedledee asked.
“That’s the one,” Tweedledum answered.
I started to turn back to them. To ask them ever so politely to step outside. But before I could do that, Rachel called, instructing me to get my butt over there, pronto.
“About damn time,” she said, as I sidled up. “We need to talk.”
She signaled for Trish, who stepped in to take over. Gracie was there, too, and she sent me a supportive smile as I followed Alice’s big sister into the back, then down the stairs to the small stockroom, a place that would, at least, give us some semblance of privacy.
“We’re selling the pub,” she said without preamble, the moment I shut the door behind us.
“What? No.” I didn’t know what the future held, but I did know that the pub was a demon magnet. And that meant that I wanted to keep a hand in it. I didn’t have Kiera’s nose for demon scent, but if they gathered here, I could surely weed them out from the humans. And then, I thought, I could kill them. Get a nice little hit of strength for me and eradicate another demon from the world.
And, yeah, the thought of letting that dark curtain fall over me for just a moment held some pretty significant appeal, too.
All in all, a win-win situation.
But not if Rachel wanted to sell the pub.
“You can’t,” I said. “We own it together. We have to sell it together, and I don’t want to.”
“I’ll ask the court to partition,” she said. “Sell the pub under court order, split the proceeds. I’ve already talked to a lawyer, Alice. It’s what I’m going to do. So get used to it.”
“But why?” I could hear the whine in my voice and took a mental step backward. “Why not just go back to your life and let me deal with the pub? I mean, why are you even here?” She’d never worked there before. For that matter, I’d only actually met Rachel once before, when she’d burst in at Alice’s apartment and asked me to watch her dogs. Then she’d bopped off to London for some work thing. “You have your life,” I pushed. “Let me have mine.”
She drew in a breath. “I gave it up.”
“What?” I had no idea what she was talking about.
“My jewelry business. I signed all the assets over to a charity.”
“You what?” None of this was computing.
“You heard me, dammit. I should never have had the business in the first place.” She turned away from me, then drew her arms in tight to her chest. “Uncle Egan’s murder just drove that home.”
“But—”
She rounded on me. “Go to Harvard, Alice. Call them and tell them you’ll start up in January. Get out of this life. For once, do what Mom wanted you to.” She sucked in air. “I’m going to try. I’m really, really going to.”
There was a whole conversation going on under the surface, and I was pretty certain I understood the gist of it. Pretty sure, but not positive. And I needed to know. I really, desperately needed to know if Rachel was walking away from the dark arts.
I took a step toward her and held out my hands. “Rachel,” I said, and when I did, she looked in my eyes. That was all it took, and this time, when the pull came, I didn’t rip away. On the contrary, I held on tighter, even when I heard her gasp. Even when I got sucked into the black. Even when I saw the rituals and the candles and the dark symbols. When I learned how she’d started her business with blood money, and how just days ago she’d screamed and ranted and destroyed the inside of her apartment, wishing all the while she could destroy the inside of herself.
She’d given it up, just like she’d said. She’d given it up, but she still felt trapped. Trapped, and afraid, and lost.
And now she wanted to run.
With a pop, the connection between us broke, and I stepped back, only to feel the sharp sting of her palm against my cheek. “Dammit, Alice. You do not do that. Ever. Do you understand me?”
I nodded, not planning to say anything else. But the words that came out surprised me as much as they surprised her. “I’m not Alice,” I said. “I’m not really your sister.”
EIGHTEEN
“What the hell are you talking about?” Rachel asked, staring at me as if I’d gone completely out of my mind, a reaction that didn’t much surprise me.
“They killed her,” I said. “Egan sold her to the demons, and they killed her.”