All You Desire (45 page)

Alex frowned. “I'm just here to—”

“Your friend, television actor Calum Daniels, was arrested this morning on kidnapping charges. What can you tell us about this strange turn of events?”

“It's all a terrible mistake. I expect the charges to be dropped any minute now.”

“And what do you have to say about the recent reappearance of Iain Morrow?” Jack added quickly before Alex had time to make her escape. “You two were an item back in the day. How does it feel to hear he's returned from the dead?”

“I wish Iain nothing but the best.”

“So you don't believe he was responsible for the murder of the musician Jeremy Johns two years ago?”

“This is America, Jack. Last I heard, we're all innocent until proven guilty,” Alex said with an angry smile.

“Turn the television off,” Haven demanded, and Alex's pretty face faded to black.

“Sorry,” Frances said. “I thought it might take your mind off tomorrow. I didn't know—”

“It's okay,” Haven assured her. She hadn't meant to snap, but the sight of Alex Harbridge had ripped open a wound she was trying to ignore just long enough to do what needed to be done. “I'm going to lie down now.”

“Are you sure you want to go to sleep?” Frances asked. “Iain should be back soon.”

“I didn't say I was going to sleep,” Haven said. She doubted she'd ever be able to sleep again.

Instead Haven lay on the bed in Constance Whitman's room, staring at the ceiling and thinking of Beau. Even as a boy, he couldn't stand to see Haven unhappy. Whenever he discovered her looking miserable, he'd stop at nothing to make Haven laugh. Once, when Haven's grandmother was making life unbearable, Beau had stayed up all night sewing a giant replica of one of the old lady's dresses. He'd appeared beneath Haven's window the very next morning to deliver a lecture on the importance of shunning homosexual football players. The performance had made Haven's grandmother despise Beau with a passion, but it had sent Haven sprinting to the bathroom before she peed her pants laughing.

This time Beau could do nothing to lift Haven's spirits. He was still in the Horae's hands, and it was all Haven's fault.

The bedroom door opened, and Iain entered.

“Did you find Padma?” Haven asked.

“She was back at that rat hole on the Lower East Side. She thinks I'm the only one who knows she's there, and I really hope she's right.”

“Did she agree to release the files?”

“She did.”

“How much did she want?”

“All of it.”

“All of it?” Haven's heart sank a little.

“Every last cent of the Morrow family fortune—the second we're able to give it.”

Haven nodded solemnly. “It's worth it.”

“I know,” Iain said.

“So what's going to happen now?”

“Padma will speak to the newspapers tonight. She'll be on a plane tomorrow. The story will break the next day. We'll wire the money to a Swiss account once we have it.”

“And then?”

Iain sat down beside her. “And then no one will go near the Ouroboros Society again. With no leader left and a scandal hanging over the club, the doors should be sealed for good. There won't be any money to fund Adam's school. Flora will grow up to be an ordinary doctor. Leah's prophecy won't be fulfilled.”

“Thank God,” Haven said.

“There's more. Padma says she'll admit to the papers that she ordered Jeremy Johns's murder. And she'll give the police the name of the gray man who did it. We'll finally be free to go wherever we want.”

“We?” Haven asked miserably, no longer able to hold back all the horrible thoughts that had been multiplying in her head. “Are you sure you want me to go with you? I mean, think about it, Iain! I'm cursed! Adam and the Horae will follow me wherever I go. I'll ruin all your lives. As long as you're with me, you'll never be free of them.”

“You've got it backward, Haven,” Iain insisted. “I don't give a damn about Adam or the Horae. My lives would be ruined if you
weren't
with me.”

“No, listen! There's something I have to tell you,” Haven said. “I found out why your childhood was so miserable. I know why your mother despised you. She's one of the Horae and—”

“My
mother
is one of the Horae? Virginia
Morrow
? That's not—”

“
Please
. Just let me finish. She was there today when I went to see them at Sylvan Terrace. Phoebe told me that your mother spent decades trying to escape from her sisters. She wanted her own life, and she was desperate for a child—someone who would belong to
her
. Then she found out that you were one of the souls her sisters wanted to locate. Her heart must have broken the moment you told her you were looking for
me
.”

The revelation had only stunned him for an instant. “You are
not
responsible for my mother's actions,” Iain persisted. “Horae or not, I would have loved her too, if she had given me a chance.”

“There's more. Phoebe seduced your father. Calum Daniels is your half brother.”

“Whoa.” Iain looked as though he'd been whacked in the gut with a baseball bat. “I could use a drink now too.”

“Don't you see?” Haven cried. “None of this would have happened if it wasn't for me. I'm like your personal bad-luck charm. Every horrible force in the universe is drawn to me.”

“I'm drawn to you too. So is Beau. So is Leah.”

“And today I saw what can happen to the people who love me,” Haven said. The horror show in Florence hadn't stopped playing in her head. “I saw Piero's body. He'd been murdered, his throat slit, all because I trusted the wrong person.”

“I know what you saw was terrible, but you can't take responsibility for someone else's deeds.”

“You don't understand. It
was
my fault that Piero died. The Horae were the ones who brought Adam to Florence and introduced him to me. I was supposed to help lock him away, but I betrayed them. I was so dazzled by the freedom Adam promised me that I acted too late. Piero died, and Adam's ships brought the Black Death to Europe. And to think—I almost let the same thing happen twice. I almost let a plague wipe out New York City.”

“But you're going to stop the plague this time, Haven. That's all that counts. You're the reason Leah is here. You're the one who knew Flora. Without you, none of us would have figured out what Adam had planned for the kids at Halcyon Hall. And without you, we would never be able to imprison him tomorrow.”

Haven felt a terror unlike anything she'd ever known spreading through her body. But she had to tell Iain everything. Even if it meant losing him.

“You don't understand, Iain. I'm not who you think I am. I'm not even sure you can trust me. There's still something I need to confess. I made a dress for one of the OS members, and she opened an account in my name. She paid me twenty points, and I was going to use them to have Beau's kidnapper punished. I wanted him to be beaten like Beau was.”

“Did you actually spend the points?” Iain asked.

“No,” Haven told him. “I could have, but I chickened out.”

“So you think you should be punished for having evil thoughts?”

“It wasn't just an evil thought, Iain. I almost became one of them. I swear, I was
this close
.”

“But you
didn't
. You're human, Haven. Terrible ideas are going to enter your brain from time to time. All that counts is whether you act on them. And in this case, you haven't done a single thing wrong.”

“I kissed Adam.”

“Okay, maybe you did
one
thing wrong,” he joked. “But Haven?”

She looked up at him. He was so good, she thought. She couldn't believe she'd risked what they had—and would have to risk it all over again.

“I have faith in you,” he told her. “If you've made mistakes, you still have a chance to fix them.”

“I'm scared,” Haven said.

“So am I.” Iain lay down beside her, and she felt his warm hands sneak beneath the covers and find her warm skin.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

“Haven, Iain, get out of bed!” Frances shouted through the bedroom door.

“What time is it? Am I late?” Haven mumbled.

It was still dark. Haven blindly groped for Iain's cell phone on the bedside table. When the light came on, the clock read 5:35 a.m.

“Haven, Iain, get out here!” Frances shrieked again. “Something's happened.”

Iain pulled on a pair of jeans and was the first to the door. “Is Leah okay?” he asked. “What's wrong?”

“Leah's asleep. Come to the living room. There's something you need to see.” Once they were there, Frances pointed at the television. “It's on most of the channels now.”

“Those lying bastards,” Iain growled. “The
Post
ran the story a day early.” He rushed back to the bedroom and returned moments later in his coat and shoes.

“What does this mean?” Frances asked.

“It means I have to find Padma before the OS does,” Iain said. “She wasn't supposed to leave the city until tomorrow.”

“No!” Haven shouted. “They'll be looking for you too!”

“Which is why I have to go right now.” He planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “I'll be back before you leave to see Adam.”

“Iain!” Haven yelled again as he ran out the door. “Be careful!” she added, but he could no longer hear her.

Iain didn't return in time to see Haven off. She tried calling, only to hear his phone ring down the hall in Frances's apartment. In his rush to save Padma, he'd left it lying on the bedside table. Haven showered, dressed, and waited for word from him. At nine thirty, Leah found her still sitting on the unmade bed, the ring Iain had given her now back on her finger. She was gazing at the glass jewel set in gold and praying it would bring her the luck she needed.

“The car is here for you,” Leah said. “Frances says if you're going, you need to go soon.”

“Am I doing the right thing?” Haven asked Leah.

The scrawny girl shook her head. “You're the only one who knows that. But I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust you.”

Haven held out Iain's phone. “Will you keep this with you? Iain might try to get in touch while I'm gone.”

“You're not going to take it?”

“If Iain needs help, I won't be in any position to give it. I need you to watch out for him. If something happens to him, I won't survive.”

“What
about
you?” Leah asked. “What if
you
need help?”

“If I need help, I'm not sure there's much you can do.”

 

HAVEN'S CAR CAME to a halt outside the tall gothic gatehouse of Green-Wood Cemetery. Beyond the brown spires lay another realm—a silent, still, and perfectly white world. The snow that had long since turned to slush on the city's streets had yet to be sullied within the cemetery's walls. Only a few narrow paths were cleared, and they wound like black ribbons around the graves. The scene took Haven back to the day they buried Beau's mother. There had been snow on the ground then too. Haven had held Beau's hand as they stood at the edge of a hole carved out of the frozen earth. She took a silent oath by that grave—to give Beau everything he'd lost when his mother died. Haven promised him her protection, encouragement, and unconditional love. But it had only taken a few short years before she'd failed Beau once again.

Haven checked her watch. It was exactly ten o'clock, and aside from a solitary guard sipping coffee inside the gatehouse, she was completely alone. As the minutes ticked past, she began to worry. Adam was never late. Had the events of the morning kept him away?

“You waiting for someone? You want to come sit inside?” the guard addressed her from the door of his booth.

“A friend was supposed to meet me here,” Haven said. “He must be running late.”

“You talking about a tall guy in a dark overcoat?”

“Yes,” Haven said. “That's him.”

“He got here a while back. Aside from a couple of ladies, he's the only visitor we've had today.”

“Did you see which way he went?”

“Up the hill to the left,” the guard said. “Where he went after that, I couldn't tell you.”

“Thanks,” Haven said.

The city vanished, and silence enveloped her. A cold wind blew at her back, pushing Haven gently along the path. Everywhere she looked, angels refused to meet her gaze, their heads either lifted toward heaven or bowed down to the earth below. When she reached the top of the hill, Haven took one last glance at the gates and the guardhouse and then plunged into the woods. She had never felt so alone.

From the summit, the path wound down the other side toward a little lake set in a valley. At the base of the hill was a single door—the entrance to a tomb cut into the rock. The style was ancient, but the marble was freshly chiseled. The white of the stone blended in with the snow that concealed the land. On either side of the door sat two statues, a man and a woman. Haven recognized the hand of Matteo Salvadore in the sculptures' graceful curves. The figures wore long robes with hoods that cast dark shadows over their faces. Most visitors might have mistaken them for mourners, but the look in the eyes that peered out was not grief-stricken but proud. They were the only ones in this cemetery who'd come willingly. They were there to rule over it.