This Poison Heart, page 18
Nyx laughed and gestured toward the door, but she didn’t answer my question.
As I followed her up the wide steps to the front of the house, I heard something beyond the muffled rush of the river. Pausing, I looked in the direction of the bluff, squinting against the darkness. A rhythmic rush of air, like bird wings beating.
“This way,” Nyx said, ushering me inside.
The inside of the house was just as impressive as the exterior. A floor of mottled gray marble, inlaid with hexagonal patterns of ebony tile, was polished to a glass-like shine. A painting of a regal-looking woman in a long, patterned dress hung in the foyer alongside watercolors of lush landscapes. An iron chandelier affixed to the exposed crossbeams drenched the entire entryway in a warm, undulating glow.
Nyx led me down a long hall and into a small library.
A library.
Inside a house.
A fireplace big enough to step into took up the entire back wall. The flames inside clung to the last of their dying embers, casting a dancing amber light all around.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” Nyx said.
She left, and I immediately went to the built-in shelves closest to me. I pulled down a beautifully illustrated book of fairy tales and took it to the large leather couch. As I thumbed through, I gently touched the well-worn pages. Something about the look and feel and smell of old books always sparked a sense of calm in me. The books Karter had gifted me and the ones I’d found in the turret gave me the same feeling. Nyx returned a few minutes later carrying an assortment of meats, cheeses, and crackers on a large wooden cutting board. She set it on the coffee table.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said. “You had to walk like a block to bring this to me, huh? How far away is the kitchen in this mansion?”
“You’re not hungry?”
I stared into Nyx’s face. The room was fairly dark but not so much that I couldn’t tell if she’d been speaking to me or not. She had not moved her mouth at all. I followed her amused gaze to the wingback chair by the fireplace where Marie was sitting cross-legged, a half smile painting her lips.
Nyx gave me a wink before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
“Were you there the whole time?” I asked. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” I hadn’t even registered the chair, much less the beautiful girl sitting in it, when I came in.
Her silver hair was slicked up into a perfectly twisted topknot. She was wearing a pair of fitted gray joggers and a matching cropped sweater. Her skin glowed in the firelight. And her eyes . . . I was staring again. I shook my head.
“I was waiting for you to call so I could invite you over,” Marie said. “But you took your sweet time, so I had to make the first move.”
Heat rose in my face. “I was gonna call you.”
“When?” she asked, her eyes locked on mine. She sounded like she genuinely wanted to know.
“When I got settled,” I said honestly.
She seemed satisfied with my answer and relaxed into the chair. “It’s gotta be overwhelming for you, coming into possession of the house and all its—responsibilities.”
“You mean the apothecary?”
She blinked a few times, then readjusted herself in her seat. “It’s a lot of work, right? To get it back up and running?”
“Yeah,” I said. I looked around the room again, then back to Marie. “This house is amazing. I’ve seen Beauty and the Beast too many times to not have thought about having a library in my house.”
“You can come over anytime. Give Nyx a call, and she’ll get you.”
I studied her face. “I’m not tryna be rude, but this is all really, really strange. Do you live here alone? And why are you being so nice to me?”
Marie tilted her head back and let out the most melodic laugh I’d ever heard. It sounded like bells. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m a nice person, I guess? I’ve been fortunate, so I like to pay it forward when I can.”
“Okay, and you live here with . . . who? Your parents?”
“My grandfather, Alec. He’s sort of an amateur historian. Most of the older books are his.” She gestured toward the shelves. “He did most of the decorating, which is why this place looks like it’s haunted by the ghost of a French nobleman or some shit. Look.” She pointed to a portrait of a man in a full suit of armor sitting on a tall brown horse, his sword drawn. “Who even is that?”
“Definitely somebody’s soul trapped in that painting.” I grinned and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard her sigh. She suddenly stood and swept over to the couch, taking a seat next to me. She pulled her knee up and rested her chin on top of it. The smooth brown skin of her belly stuck out from under her sweater.
“And Nyx?” I asked, putting my thoughts elsewhere. “Is she, like, your assistant or something?”
Marie laughed again. “She’s more like a bodyguard.”
“Seriously?”
“What?” Marie grinned. “She could fold somebody up, no problem.”
“No, I—I believe it, but what do you need a bodyguard for?”
“I have—My family has some money. People come around trying to get over. It’s a precaution.”
I reached down and picked up a few slices of the gourmet cheese.
“Do you like it?” Marie asked.
“Yeah. It’s like a bougie Lunchable.”
Marie grinned at me. “It’s a charcuterie board.”
“If you say so. Are you gonna have some?”
“No. I’m good. Take as much as you’d like.” She scooted toward me, leaning in closer than she needed to. She smelled like vanilla and cocoa butter. She wore a thin gold chain around her ankle and her toes were painted neon green. I set down the cheese I’d picked up. I couldn’t concentrate enough to eat, which I didn’t realize was necessary until that very moment. Everything about her commanded my full attention.
“Do you want a tour of the house?” she asked.
Not really. I would’ve been perfectly happy to sit there and stare at her like a creep for the rest of the night.
“C’mon,” she said. She took me by the arm and led me out into the hall. “I’ve lived in Rhinebeck my entire life, but I love to travel. Sometimes I just need to get away from Alec and his collection of haunted antiques.”
“You’re not in school?” I asked.
“I graduated early,” she said. “I think I’ve learned more from traveling than I ever did sitting in some schoolhouse.”
I’d never heard anybody use the word schoolhouse when they were talking about school. Maybe rich people did things differently.
We hung a right and she led me down another long hallway lined with more creepy paintings in gold filigree frames. She showed me an indoor swimming pool but said the one outside was much better for swimming in the summer. We came to a set of tall double doors and she pushed them open.
The room could only be described as a mini museum. Glass cases full of artifacts were crowded together at the perimeter of the room. Masks, swords, pottery, clothing, and tools were all expertly displayed.
“My collection,” Marie said. “Alec and I are getting all these artifacts back to their countries of origin. Most of them were stolen, smuggled out, or sold on the black market. So much history looted.” She shook her head. “Now museums charge a fee to look at things that don’t even belong to them.”
“How’d you get ahold of all this?”
“That’s a long, boring story.”
I moved to a display case in the far corner. Inside was a broken bowl that looked like it was made out of gold, and on it was the tiny figure of a woman with three faces.
“The triple goddess, Hecate herself,” said Marie. “That one was a gift from someone I was very close to.”
“Keeper of the Keys,” I said, repeating the words I’d read in one of the books back at the house.
Marie narrowed her eyes. “You know about her?”
“Sort of,” I said. “I’ve been doing some reading and her name is always connected with a woman called Medea.” As I stared at the symbol, it reminded me of the one in the crest on the door in the garden.
“I’ve seen the play,” said Marie. “I love the theater.”
“Me too,” I said smiling. “I haven’t seen it, but there are some portraits of her in the house.”
“Circe loved to read. And that story is tragic, really gut-wrenching. Maybe she found some parallels with her own life.”
“Her life was tragic?” I asked. I turned my attention to another display full of artifacts. “She had a big house, and it’s paid off. She was running a business and I’m sure she was making good money based on what you said about how much you paid her. Doesn’t really seem like a tragedy.”
I turned to find that Marie had moved across the room and was standing not a foot from me.
My heart jumped into my throat.
“Not everything was easy for her,” Marie said quietly. “She bore a huge burden.”
“What burden?” I asked. Suddenly everything seemed brighter, louder. I was aware of the rattle of hot water pipes and the hum of the electricity powering the lights in the display cases. Fear had dialed my senses to ten.
Marie took a few steps toward me. “You found the apothecary and the garden. I’m sure you’ve seen what lies behind those high walls.”
“The plants to stock the apothecary?” My voice sounded small, hollow.
“That’s part of it but . . .” She stared at me, her eyes searching, and finally finding something that seemed to trouble her deeply. She moved closer—slowly and deliberately, the way she had when she’d come to my house. She narrowed her gaze, her brown eyes glinting in the dim light. “They were keeping an unfathomable secret.”
CHAPTER 18
I had the strongest urge to leave—No, not leave. Run.
“I’m sorry,” Marie said. “Please. Please don’t go.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “I’m not trying to pressure you into giving me any information—”
“I don’t even have any information,” I said. “I—I haven’t opened the door.”
Her sigh was heavy with relief. “Good. Don’t open it.”
“Why? What’s behind it?” I inched closer to the door.
“I don’t know exactly.” Her shoulders rolled forward as she hugged herself around the middle. She drew a long breath. “Circe looked after a very rare, very poisonous plant. The only reason I know that much is because of—” She stopped short. Pain twisted her beautiful features. “Because of Astraea. She was a relative of yours and my best friend in the whole world, like a sister.”
Some of the fear had ebbed but I kept the door in my line of sight. “What did she say about the plant?”
Marie gazed off to the side like she was recalling a distant memory. “She told me it was the center of her world, that it consumed her waking days and even her dreams. Once, she told me she would have given her life to keep it safe, and I laughed.” She looked absolutely disgusted with herself, shaking her head, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, tears threatened to spill over. “She didn’t talk to me for six months.”
“Why?” I asked. “There are a lot of poisonous plants in the garden. At least a dozen of them are deadly.”
“It’s nothing like those other plants. It couldn’t be, or they wouldn’t have kept it locked away.” Her tone darkened. “And if that’s true, and I have every reason to think it is, then you should never open it. Never even speak about it. Ever.”
“Where’s Astraea now?” I asked. “Do you think she knows I’m here? Why isn’t she taking care of the house and the garden?”
Marie’s face grew tight. “Astraea died a long time ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” I said. I shook my head, frustrated.
“What’s wrong?” Marie asked.
“It’s like everybody who could give me any real answers is gone. That leaves me in a weird place if I’m tryna figure things out.” As I went over this growing list of people who’d passed away and where that left me, something occurred to me. “How did Astraea die?”
Marie glanced at me, hesitating.
“My birth mother died, too. So did Circe and Astraea. Now that I think about it, I’m worried.” What was plaguing the Colchis family line to leave me the last one standing? The question unsettled me.
“Cause of death is tricky when you’re a Colchis,” Marie said.
I raised an eyebrow. “You wanna tell me what that’s supposed to mean?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “It means that if I walked into the records room at the county courthouse and asked for a copy of the coroner’s report for Astraea or even Selene, I promise you there’d be an issue. It’s been moved, lost, caught on fire in a back room somewhere . . .”
“You don’t know how any of them died?” I asked.
Marie shook her head. “No. I asked Circe about Astraea, but even she couldn’t give me any real answers. For a long time, I thought it was another secret, something else she’d sworn to keep private, but I don’t know anymore. Maybe she didn’t know what happened to her—or maybe she did, but didn’t want to tell me.”
“What about the coroner?” I asked. “This is a pretty small town. Maybe you could get the information directly from them?”
“This is a small place. So small that our medical examiner’s office and our funeral home have been run by the same family for years. I actually think that’s illegal, but on top of that, the guy in charge now is an asshole. And like I said, the records always happen to be unavailable or misplaced.”
“I understand what it’s like to have questions and feel like you can’t get a straight answer,” I said. “That’s how it’s been for me ever since I got here.”
Marie bristled. “Astraea was my friend and for somebody like me, real friends are hard to come by. If I knew what happened to her, maybe it’d make me feel less—I don’t know, less lost.”
My fear had ebbed completely, and I gently put my hand on Marie’s arm. She seemed vulnerable, unsure of what to do or say next. “I get it. Maybe I can help. Do you know how I can get ahold of the medical examiner?”
She pulled out her phone and a few seconds later, I had a text from her.
“That’s his information. I won’t get my hopes up, and you shouldn’t either.”
“We’ll see. Can’t hurt to ask,” I said. “Anyway, how’s Alec?”
“Alive,” she said.
I waited for her to elaborate and choked back a nervous laugh when I realized that the little ring in her voice sounded like disappointment.
“He’s upstairs,” she said quickly, noticing my confusion. “He’ll probably be in county lockup soon for trespassing on your property.” She looked disgusted.
“I already talked to my parents about that. Nobody wants him locked up. I’d be worried if my grandpa—”
Marie’s eyes widened for a split second. I stared at her, trying to decide how I was going to say what I was thinking without sounding rude. “You’re not telling me the whole truth about who he is to you. I don’t know why, but after everything you just said about your friend and how you hate being kept in the dark—”
“You’re right,” Marie interjected. “You’re right.” She studied me carefully. “He’s not my grandfather, but he is family, so I look out for him, even when he gets himself into trouble.”
“Okay.” I was happy she was willing to offer me that. “I can work with that.”
“Can we leave the rest of the questions for another time?” Marie asked.
“Actually, I have one more,” I said. “Were you sneaking around outside the house before I moved in?”
The corner of Marie’s mouth twitched like she was holding back a smile.
“Mrs. Redmond—the lawyer who’s handling all the legal stuff for the house—said she saw you in the driveway a few weeks ago. I was wondering why you were there.”
“I was making sure everything was on the up-and-up. Circe wouldn’t have wanted some stranger in her house.”
“I’m a stranger,” I said.
Marie shook her head. “You’re not. Maybe you feel that way, but it’s not true.”
I checked my phone. No messages from Mom or Mo yet. They’d wait till the clock struck eleven to remind me of my curfew. If I didn’t text back, they’d be in the car at five after, like some kind of modern-day fairy godmothers. Except instead of snatching back a fancy dress and glass heels, they’d take my free time, phone, and any thoughts I had of being almost grown.
“You have to go?” Marie asked.
“It’s about to be eleven.”
“That’s not really an answer, is it?”
I hoped that her question meant what I thought it did—that she wanted to see me again. “I’m guessing you don’t have a curfew.”
“Oh right,” she said. This time, her disappointment was crystal clear. “C’mon. I’ll walk you out.”
She led me back through the maze of corridors and to the front drive. As I walked down the steps, Nyx came striding out of the darkness from the direction of the bluff and the strange noise I’d heard earlier.
Marie cleared her throat loudly and Nyx stopped, dusted something off her jacket, and fastened the buttons.
“Call me. Or I’ll call you,” Marie said. “Oh, and I can take you to see them whenever you want.”
“Who?” I asked as I moved to the car door.
“Selene and Circe. They’re in your family’s plot, not the big cemetery where everyone else is buried. It’s off the beaten path. If you ever want to go, let me know.”
“Oh. Right,” I said. I wasn’t sure that was something I wanted to do, and the topic had caught me off guard.
“It’s completely up to you,” Marie said.
“I’ll think about it.” I turned and Nyx opened the door for me.
I climbed in and Marie retreated into the house. I sat quietly in the back seat as Nyx drove me home. When we pulled up to the house, Mom and Mo were at the door, waiting.
I let myself out and Nyx met me on the passenger side of the car.
“Miss Morris asked me to leave you with this.” She handed me a small card. “It’s my phone number. She said you’re welcome to come up to the house anytime.”
