A Beautiful Torment

47. The Ball

Georgina's shiny, pink nails dug deep into my arm as she steered me out into the hallway, a thunderous expression on her face. My head was spinning and my stomach was churning with nausea; what the hell was she, of all people, doing here? My brain cycled through our previous encounters, but I couldn't remember a time she had ever indicated that she was anything other than completely oblivious to this world.

She shoved me into one of Draper's cloakrooms in the entrance hall and I blinked in the sudden darkness, wrenching my arm out of Georgina's death grip. I'd learned from Sophia that that cloakrooms – and Draper's study – were sound proof; in a house full of magic and enhanced hearing, it was difficult to keep secrets. When Georgina flicked on a light, I stumbled backward into a wall of fur and glared angrily at her.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" she hissed before I could voice my own question.

"Me?!" I retorted. "What are you doing here?!"

She eyed me with narrow, angry eyes. Her golden blond hair was piled on top of her head in a pretty, ornate chignon and her dress, identical mine, smoothed over her body like a second skin. I remembered how I'd always felt insignificant whenever I was in her presence before, but now my backbone stiffened and I lifted my chin. I wasn't afraid of her and I wasn't intimidated by her anymore – I'd faced down demons and come out alive. I could take her, easily.

"You're bonded, aren't you?" she spat. Her eyes widened suddenly and she grabbed my chin between her thumb and forefinger. The position was eerily similar to the way Draper and Torment had grabbed that creature's chin, while I'd still been inside her body, and a skitter of remembered fear jolted down my spine. "You're bonded to him. Wyatt?"

I wrenched my chin out of her grip and glared at her. "So?" I demanded. "What does that have to do with anything?"

She scowled, her eyes flicking toward the ceiling as she muttered, "Fuck. It wasn't Emma. It was you."

"What do you mean, 'It wasn't Emma'?" I rubbed my arm uneasily, fingers gliding over the indents that Georgina's nails had made on my skin. "How do you... How do you know what happened to Emma?!"

"You need to leave." Georgina's eyes flashed darkly, like they were lit from behind with fire. "Find a way out of this house, and fast!"

My glare strengthened. "Leave? Even if that was possible – which it's not – I wouldn't. Wyatt's still here, and I can't leave him behind. And definitely not just because you told me to. I know you hate me, remember?"

"It doesn't matter what I feel," Georgina bit out, "because by this time tomorrow, you're going to be dead anyway."

I froze. My blood turned to ice in my veins, the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach increasing tenfold. "What are you talking about?" I croaked.

"Ugh." Georgina made a disgusted sound at the back of her throat. "I forgot how hopelessly naïve you are – and idiotic." She placed her hands on my shoulders. "Listen to me. I'm like you. I've been forced into this idiotic, soul-bond thing. The witch I'm bonded to is a spy for the Praetor, one tasked with hunting down Torment's children. She's posing as my mother, and we moved to Maycrest with the intent of finding and killing Wyatt – which Freya would have succeeded in doing if the Reaper she sent had killed it's intended target – you."

"You tried to kill me?!" I shrieked. I started to struggle against her hold, a white-hot fist of fear blooming in my stomach.

"No, you stupid idiot. STOP!" She shoved me back against the coats, eyes burning . "Listen to me!"