Three o'clock chimed on the grandfather clock in Weatherly's entrance hall.
At last most people had left or were in bed, and the manor was quiet. The fireworks had been cancelled because of the rain, the police had come and gone, and the doctor's case had been closed, thanks to his death. Everyone seemed to believe the version of the story Izzy had fed them, about Vita's dog tearing Finley's throat out when he had attacked them.
With a heavy sigh, Izzy walked into her bedroom, ready to collapse on her covers without even taking her dress off. The evening had not gone according to plan by any means, but she was alive, and so were her friends, and in the grand scheme of things, that was what mattered.
She let the door close behind her and looked up. Her mother sat on her bed, her face pinched with a concerned expression.
"Go away," Izzy snapped.
She walked behind the folding screen, waiting for Lady Rhodes to take the hint and leave. She unbuttoned her ruined dress, but no sound indicated movements on the other side of the room.
"I want to go to bed," Izzy said. "I'm not interested in what you have to say."
"Darling," her mother's voice was soft, and irritatingly condescending. "I just want what's best for you."
Izzy snorted, and let her dress fall on the floor. "And what's that, in your opinion? Lying to all your friends for months and divorcing Father?"
"You used to be such a sweet girl." Lady Rhodes let out a sigh. "That Victoria Hartpole girl has had a terrible influence on you."
Anger flared in Izzy's throat. "Don't you dare talk about her that way."
Her reply silenced her mother for a moment. She pulled her nightgown over her head and took off her shoes and stockings, before making her way to her dressing table to brush her tangled hair.
"Will you at least promise me you'll consider marrying Henry Stratford?" Lady Rhodes said at last.
Izzy let out a laugh. "Henry Stratford? Are you serious?"
In her mirror, her mother's reflection shook her head with consternation. "Your father arranged it all. He's a perfectly acceptable suitor. And he's family, so once you're engaged, he won't go back on his word, even when he finds out about your father's situation."
Izzy gaped, lost for words. They had it all worked out. Except for the part where she had to give her consent. She put down her brush with a thud, and stood up to face her mother.
"Well, forget it," she said, astonished by her own audacity. "I'm not marrying him. I'm marrying Robert Lang. And I don't care if Father and you disagree."
Her mother stood up as well. "You can't marry him without your father's consent!"
But her voice was high and uncertain, giving Izzy the confidence she needed.
"If he doesn't, I'll tell the press about his financial situation. I'll do it tomorrow. He won't have time to steal from more of his friends or flee the country. He'll be in jail by the end of the week."
She sounded so self-assured, it was like being possessed. But then her mother's mouth hung open with horror, and she knew she'd won. She walked to her door and opened it.
"Good night, Mother. I'll see you at breakfast."
Lady Rhodes left the room, her back stiff and her face pale, and Izzy's heart suddenly beat harder. She decided it was with joy, and not panic, at what she'd just done.
She couldn't wait to tell Robert in the morning.
***
From the library's window, Vita watched the guests' elegant motorcars file out of the estate. On Dr Mead's orders, she'd had breakfast in bed, therefore avoiding the tedious task of bidding farewell to all these people and having to explain why her leg was bandaged.
Her bedroom as well as the servants' hovering becoming claustrophobia-inducing, she'd asked Louise to help her come down to the library. She sat by the window with a newspaper and a book in her lap and her wounded leg stretched out. The sound of drizzling rain tapping against the glass filled her ears and the musty smell of old books and heavy curtains enveloped her.
She glanced at the paper's Society headline, which Izzy had circled with a pen and dotted with exclamation marks. 'Society's two darlings', it read below a picture of Izzy and Vita taken just before the previous night's ball. Izzy's smile was bright and happy, and Vita wished it hadn't been later marred by tears and fear in the clearing.
Vita dumped the newspaper on the floor with a sigh and grabbed her book instead. Despite the night's events, Izzy had been cheerful this morning when she had visited Vita in her room: all that was on her mind was the party's success and her upcoming move to America with Mr. Lang. Maybe it was her way of coping with the shock of being nearly killed by a demented scientist. Or maybe it was just Izzy being Izzy.
"Good morning."
She glanced up. Holden stood halfway between the closed door and her window seat. The side of his face was bruised and a bit swollen. She clucked her tongue, irritation flaring in her chest, and resumed reading her book. Undeterred, Holden closed the distance between them and leaned against the wall to face her, crossing his arms over his chest.
"How are you?"
She kept her gaze on her page, the words blurred and unreadable, and considered throwing the book at him.
"They didn't let me see you until this morning," he went on, "and even now I had to sneak past the butler and your maid."
"Maybe you should have taken the hint," Vita said, her voice clipped with anger.
She still refused to look at him. Holden was quiet for an instant.
"You didn't want to see me," he said at last, realisation dawning on him.
"You think?"
"What did I do?"
His tone was confused and hurt, and she snapped her book shut before staring him down.
"What did you do?" she replied, her voice rising with each word. "Oh, dear, let me think. You completely gave up last night, that's what you did, Holden. You gave up on me, you gave up on saving Izzy, you gave up on stopping Finley, you gave up on fighting back, and you gave up on saving your own life!"
She shouted at him now, and didn't care if the servants could hear her.
"We're supposed to be in this together! That was the whole point of you staying here and interfering in every part of my life, wasn't it? But when I needed you the most, you gave up."
Holden's expression was frozen with shock and pain.
"I didn't want you to get hurt--"
Vita interrupted him. "And how did that work out?"
It was harsh, and it stopped him short, but she was too upset to dwell on his feelings.
"What if that phoenix had taken you and left me behind, like you wanted him to?" she said. "What sort of a stupid plan was that? Did you think I'd just let the coven keep you and torture you? That I'd just carry on with my life, admiring you for your great sacrifice and mourning you like a dutiful offspring?"
She put her book down on the windowsill with a thump.
"You don't know me at all if you think that, Holden. If they take you, I'll hunt them down, burn their coven to the ground and destroy anyone who's hurt you in the meantime. I won't sit there and cry over my loss."
Holden rubbed his hands over his face, distressed.
"Don't say that..."
"I'm saying it because it's true," she snapped.
He extended his hand and almost touched her arm, but didn't. "I only ever want to protect you."
His voice was soft, but her reply wasn't.
"Well, you need to stop!" she said. "When are you going to understand I'm not some fragile creature you have to protect? Acting that way has only brought us trouble. We were so focused on what could happen to me, we put Izzy in mortal danger. This can't go on, Holden. I won't allow it."
He had his arms crossed over his chest again, as if to hold himself together against her attacks. He stared out of the window, his jaw tight.
"We need to be partners in this," Vita added in a calmer tone when he didn't reply. "We need to make decisions together, and those decisions need to ensure everyone's safety, not just mine."
This time, it was she who held out her hand to him. He tilted his head to the side, hesitating, and for a heart-breaking second she wondered if he'd refuse her. The thought made her breath catch. But at last he took her hand and sat down on the windowsill next to her. His fingers were as warm as hers, with the same black lacquered nails.
They remained unmoving for a while, the rain pattering against the window and their breathing the only sounds in the room.
"The Hunter will return," Holden said in the end, his voice tired. "Now that he knows what to expect, he'll come back, and he'll bring reinforcements."
Vita took his willingness to volunteer such information without being prompted as a good sign.
"How long do we have?"
"At least a few days."
Vita nodded, pondering their next move. If Holden was prepared to include her in his plans, they might have a chance to be ready for the next attack.
"What do you have in mind?" she asked.
He shifted in his seat, and she frowned at his reluctance to give her a quick answer.
"Well?" she said.
"I still think we need to run," Holden said.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he carried on without giving her the time to do so.
"The coven in Paris isn't the only one there is," he explained. "There are a couple of others in the world. As a rule, covens have no contact with each other, because time has taught us meddling in other covens' business often leads to conflict and war."
Vita arched an eyebrow, picturing phoenixes at war with each other. It wasn't a reassuring thought.
"I've been thinking to ask one of those covens for protection," Holden said. "Namely, the one in America. That would put an ocean between the Paris coven and us, and even if the Parisian phoenixes are keen on getting justice done and having their revenge on me, they wouldn't dare attack another coven just for that purpose."
"What makes you think this American coven will take you in?" Vita asked, unconvinced. "You said yourself they hate meddling into each other's affairs. And even if they did it to spite the Paris coven, there's still the issue of you betraying the entire phoenix race to the humans, which they might take umbrage to."
A shadow crossed Holden's features and he pressed his lips together, hesitating again.
"They won't take me in," he said, his voice low. "But they'll take you, and me with you if you ask them."
Vita blinked, realisation dawning upon her.
"That's your plan?" She almost choked on the words, indignation flushing her cheeks. "Running to America together and handing ourselves over to another coven?"
"It's the only way everyone'll be safe," Holden said. "Isn't that what you want?"
Anger made Vita's nostrils flare. She grabbed her abandoned book and threw it at Holden, who stood up to deflect the blow.
"How dare you?" she shouted. "How dare you put this on me? I told you I wouldn't run, I told you I wouldn't leave Archie! Yet the 'only' way to keep everyone I love safe is to travel with you to the other side of the world? How very convenient, you lying, selfish bastard!"
She grabbed a couple of books lying on the carpet next to her and hurled them at him, until he retreated a few steps with his arms up.
"It's either I go with you or you die?" she went on, fury building on in her chest. "Well, I'm not going with you. So I suggest you start running."
A sharp pain in her thigh made her realise she had stood up. Panting, she glared at Holden, who gaped at her, speechless and upset.
Then he turned and walked out of the library.
Vita collapsed in her armchair, wincing at the throbbing in her leg. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm her frantic heartbeat, but tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks before she had time to gather herself. Sobs wracked her body, and when Archie walked into the room half an hour later, he found her asleep from exhaustion, wrapped in her wings like a cocoon, with dried tears on her face.
***
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