“Don’t be absurd, Gemmie. Killing is the best part,” she muses, stars in her eyes. Then her expression falls, and she pouts. “I miss it.”
I shoot her an amused glance. “Poor little Tin-Tin,” I quip. “Too injured to maim others. How long has it been?”
She crosses her arms and sighs. “At least a week.”
I bark out a laugh, my eyes trained on her cast as I start on a doodle of a snake coiling around a key.
“You don’t usually hold on to them for this long,” Constantine notes, returning to her previous question.
“It’s only been four days, Tinny.”
“And? Your proclivities to boredom are legendary.”
Focusing on drawing the snake’s tongue, I grin. “Touché.” I chuckle softly. “But this one …” I’m not sure how to continue. There’s so much to Veil I can’t explain. She’s like attempting to grab handfuls of mist, and I’m left with nothing but an impression of who she might be. “She’s quite the unexpected enigma, I must admit.”
“Oh?” Constantine replies, curiosity brightening her blue eyes.
I don’t have the chance to elaborate. The echo of footsteps approaching has us both falling silent, our attention now on the entrance. A few seconds later, our most powerful little duo appears. As usual, Mercy is dressed all in black, her dagger peeking from between the slit in her skirt, and Wolfgang has donned a wine-red three-piece suit.
I flash them a jovial smile. “Their magnificences have arrived.”
“There you are!”I announce after unlocking the door of her bedroom.
I find Veil staring out the window. She’s pulled her legs up, her feet tucked under her on the reading chair.
Her shoulders tighten, nervous gaze flitting to mine. My doll has grown less flighty now that a few days have passed, but the fear lingers. The taste still so sweet.
“What were you up to while I was gone?” I ask while I fall onto her bed, facing her. I lean back onto my palms, perching the heel of my boot on the tip of the other.
She gives me a strange look. “Nothing.” She worries her bottom lip before adding, “Maybe I could have a few books to read?
My eyebrows jump in surprise. “Right,” I reply distractedly. “Books.”
Leaping to my feet, I don’t miss the small wince Veil makes due to my sudden movement. I pretend not to notice as I prance up to her chair and offer my hand with a coy smile.
I might not be known for my patience, but for my favorite doll? I’m prepared to wait lifetimes for her to turn malleable under my touch.
“Let’s have a picnic by the water.”
“I’m not hungry,” she says softly, avoiding my gaze.
“Did I ask?” I spit back, my tone slightly harsher than I intended.
Her brown eyes crash into mine, pupils widening as her mouth falls slightly agape. Whatever she sees in my expression has her pinching her lips and delicately placing her palm in mine. With my gaze still on hers, I smile sweetly and press my lips to her hand before pulling her up to her feet.
“Tell me about yourself, pet.”
We’re settled on a quilted blanket under a large oak tree, its leaves shading us from the afternoon sun.
A few pieces of cheese and half-eaten grapes lie abandoned beside us, along with the empty champagne bottle, flipped over in the ice bucket. I carefully paint Veil’s nails a light shade of yellow as she peers at me from under her long eyelashes.
It’s warmer than expected for mid-December, and Veil’s coat has been discarded, pooling around her. Today’s outfit is acream knit dress, paired with knee-high boots, my family sigil—a snake coiling around a hand—hanging from a thin silver chain from her neck.
“What is there to say?” she finally mutters glumly.
I drag my tongue over my teeth, annoyed at her lack of participation, but keep my expression casual. “Tell me,” I say as I blow on the wet nail polish, “is there any point in keeping you alive if you cannot manage to findonemeaningful thing to say about yourself?”
I lift my gaze just in time to catch the fear splashed in her eyes. She tries to take her hand away, but my hold only tightens, careful not to smudge her fresh coat of nail polish.
