Wolf's Bane (Monstrous Hearts #2)

Chapter Five

Despite the vintage exterior, the decor inside Rob and Darby's house looked much like Alice's old apartment. She glanced around, taking in the severe angles of the ultra-modern lights and furniture. Every room that Rob led her through appeared pristine and unlived in. Hardwood floors unscuffed, carpets smooth and fresh. The only immediate difference proved to be framed prints hanging from the walls—Rob's work. He liked taking black-and-white photographs of people, oftentimes even strangers on the street who agreed to spontaneous portraits. Not all were unfamiliar, though; when Rob waved Alice into the studio, she found a large print of Magdalene waiting on the wall.

Rob could be an asshole, but he knew how to coax out the essence of a person and capture it. In the photo, Magdalene's eyes were a striking mix of light and shadow, haunted and haunting and uncomfortable in the way they bore into the viewer. A cigarette hung from the corner of a sneering mouth, but Rob had somehow gotten the lighting to emphasize the lushness of her lower lip through the smoke.

Alice couldn't look at it for long, and Rob noticed.

"She really fucked you up, didn't she?" He sounded amused while sitting at one of the desks in the room—his, going by the photography paraphernalia that littered the surface. His gaze traveled over her while he flicked his cigarette at a nearby ashtray.

She didn't like his attention; it felt too cold and curious, like a scalpel slitting skin to find what waited inside. But he was also the first one who had ever implied having an awareness of Magdalene's darker nature, and Alice found herself asking, "Do you miss her?"

He thought about it, smoke trailing between them. "I always saw her as a rock skipping across water. Destined to sink, but oh, the ripples she made before she disappeared. Once you knew her well, you enjoyed what she did, but never who she was."

At Alice's startled look, he added, "Don't pretend to be clueless. You were with her for years and looked like a ghost by the end. We both know how she ran through people, using them up and wearing them down. Hell, I was her only friend who never wound up in therapy. Or dead."

The frankness was so startling that Alice didn't know what to say. "How did you manage it?"

"Ego and balls. She'd feed off anyone, but the sensitive, wounded girls who reminded her of Indigo got it the worst."

She must have reacted in some way to Indigo's name, because Rob straightened up in his chair. "Magdalene told you about her?"

"Yes."

He blew out a lungful of smoke, studying her with more interest. "I'm surprised even while I'm not. Surprised because Magdalene rarely talked about her... And unsurprised because there's a fragile quality to you that Indigo also had. You're like this sweet little doll that will break and be all the more beautiful as shards. Magdalene loved that shit."

Alice never knew what to say when artists slid into distracted, abstract conversation, and so she now remained silent.

Rob eyed her again. "Do you remember the nights we spent together? Entheogens would leave Magdalene talking for fucking hours about the connections of the universe and time warping in on itself, always dancing around the ways Indigo could somehow come alive again. Half the time, Darby would be in the bathroom having the shits because she never adjusted to mescaline well. But you... You would just go limp and pliable, open to any suggestion. Like being a doll was your secret nature."

Alice glanced away, not trusting herself to immediately respond. She'd hoped Rob wouldn't go into any of that, especially because she remembered enough to feel shame scald her at the mere mention. "Why are you bringing this up?"

"Because we're talking about Magdalene and her effect on people. On Darby. On you."

"While you stood off to the side and took photos." The bitterness in her words surprised her, but Rob just looked interested, again.