“No. Lysette, you do not need to do anything with those. Send them to Blackwell Manor.”
Lysette smiled and set the first of the two ancient books on the fire.
Emme cried out and lunged forward only to be caught up in the chain which pulled so painfully against her ankle that spots formed in her vision. “No! Lysette, no! They are not mine!”
She lifted the second book. “Also not yours.” She added it to the fire, and Emme stared through horrified tears as the pages burned.
Lysette checked a pocket watch pinned to her waist. “It is now late morning, although you wouldn’t know it down here. As we speak, Lady Blackwell is presenting information about scientific research and all that rot. Pity she doesn’t know her husband’s family journals have been destroyed. I wonder if he will hold her responsible.”
Emme stared at her stepsister, tears flowing. “Let me go, Lysette. You need never see me again.”
Lysette reached again into the bag. “Hmm. Now this is yours. By my best guess, it is two years of research, notes, journals, documentation, firsthand anecdotes, and various ramblings about the shifter population and society’s cruel and unjust treatment of them.” The portfolio holding Emme’s work was well-worn, and she knew every last crease and ink-smudged page. She closed her eyes and choked back another sob.
Lysette waited until Emme opened her eyes again before carefully setting the portfolio atop the other burning papers. She paused and watched as the flames curled around the parchment, lighting each piece before devouring it.
“I know you were to address the international body of distinguished guests tonight at the old castle. Your beautifully written notes—I’ve read them twice now—were crucial to your remarks. As you do not possess your dear friend Hazel’s permanent recall, the loss of those pages is significant.” Lysette paused. “Of course, you won’t be there to give the address, so perhaps it doesn’t matter.”
Emme shook her head in mute denial of everything Lysette was saying.
“You know, the hunting party managed to take down four of the captured shifters you set free. Thank heavens for it! The hunters prevented what might have been an ugly rash of murderous crime. The city is afire with rumors about the increased shifter and vampire violence. People are afraid. Perhaps the present time may not be ideal to discuss loosening the proverbial reins of those monsters.” She placed a hand on her heart. “If only there were someone to speak on their behalf, someone who could not only prove the recent murders were committed to resemble shifter attacks but who also had the emotional gifts to deliver the information compellingly.”
Emme clenched her jaw, wishing she could rip the manacle off her ankle with her bare hands.
Lysette tapped her lip thoughtfully. “But considering the last several months have seen a concerted effort by influential parties to skew public perception of shifters”—she blinked and smiled slowly—“and good-hearted vampires as well, could just one person really change things?”
Emme swallowed hard. Everything she had worked for, everything she wanted to accomplish, was turning to ash right before her eyes.
Lysette dropped her hands back to her lap. “You could tell the truth, and with your reputation, you would be believed. Sadly, you and I have gone missing, presumed killed by the shifters that escaped my hunters. I will miraculously appear at the proper time to tell my tale of bravery and escape. I will cry quiet tears as I recount the violent nature of your death at the hands of a human wolf. I shall comfort Mama when I explain that there is naught left of you even to bury.”
Emme kept her mouth closed, and the tears flowed unchecked. The quiet hatred in Lysette’s eyes bore no mercy and never would.
“Oh, Emmeline, I do believe you are finally crushed.” Lysette’s bright-blue eyes shone, but not with compassion, and her beautiful face took on a sorrowful countenance that anyone who did not know her might have believed authentic.
“Why do you hate me so much? From the beginning, I wanted only to be your friend.”
“And from the beginning, I knew you would always be in my way.” She lifted a shoulder. “I couldn’t very well have competition when I wanted a mother. And then as I grew older, when I wanted her money.”
Emme’s brow creased. “Her money?”
Lysette leaned forward and raised her voice. “Yes, Emmeline, her money.”
Emme shook her head. “My mother’s money is hers.”
“Yes, until she passes, at which point it goes to you.” Lysette paused. “Except that, sadly, you will already be gone.”
Emme looked at her dully, wondering if she should correct her. Would it make a difference? “That is not how the inheritance on my mother’s money works. I will tell you the details of it, but only once we are free from this place.”
Lysette turned her head but kept her eyes on Emme. “I do not believe you.”
“You were younger so you do not remember the stipulations my mother insisted upon before marrying your father.”
Her mouth settled into a line. “Explain.”
“No. Not until you set me free.”
“That does not serve me one whit. No matter. I’ll draw the truth from your mother.” She put her hand to her chest. “Excuse me, our mother. Soon to be my mother. I’ll be her support through her mourning period.”
Hester Castle’s money would go to Emmeline in the event of Hester’s death, but unless Emme altered the will then, at her death, the money would remain in trust for Isla, and Emme’s aunt, Bella, to either distribute to charities or hold indefinitely. The money would stay solely with the Castle women unless they stipulated otherwise.
Emme might die in the catacombs, but she could protect her mother. “You’ll never get Castle money, Lysette,” she said wearily. “Do what you will with me, but please do not kill my mother. The inheritance line remains with her family, so you’ll get more from her
