“Why?” Evangeline asked. “What do you want from her?”
Jacks gave her a look that said he couldn’t believe she actually thought he would answer.
She didn’t, of course, but she had to try. “Will this hurt her?” she pressed.
A frustrated sigh. “Once you’ve met the matriarch, you won’t worry about hurting her.”
“But—”
“Little Fox.” Jacks brought a cool finger to her mouth, quieting her protests with more gentleness than he’d used in the carriage. As if she could have been tricked by it. “Let’s skip the part where we argue about this. I know you don’t want to do this. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone and that your sensitive human heart is trying to make you feel guilty. But you will follow through with this to fulfill your debt to me, and if you don’t, you’ll die.”
“If I die, I can’t marry Prince Apollo.”
“Then I’ll find another person to do the job. Everyone is replaceable.” He stroked her lower lip once before pulling away and striding carelessly down the cobbled path to the house.
She would have loved to have turned and gone the opposite way. She didn’t completely believe she was expendable. But she also couldn’t forget the way Jacks had walked away when she’d turned to stone. She might not have fully believed she was replaceable, but she did believe Jacks would allow her to get hurt or worse if it got him what he wanted.
“I now understand why you ignore everyone at parties,” Evangeline huffed, practically jogging to catch up with him. “If anyone actually spoke with you, they’d stop whispering about how mysterious you are and talk about how much they can’t stand you.”
Jacks speared her with a sideways glance. “Meanness doesn’t suit you, Little Fox. And I don’t ignore everyone. The other night, I had a lovely conversation with your stepsister.”
“Stay away from her,” Evangeline warned.
“That’s funny. I was about to tell you the same thing.” Jacks’s lips curved like a crescent blade, waiting for her to take the bait. To ask why he’d warned her away. The question was on the tip of her tongue. But Evangeline didn’t want to doubt her stepsister again. Marisol was not the one who’d turned a wedding party to stone or bewitched a prince so he would love her. She was a cursed reputation she didn’t deserve, and exactly what Evangeline might have been if she’d been raised by Agnes instead of her parents.
“I’m guessing you’re ignoring me because you already know she’s jealous of you.”
“Stop it,” Evangeline said. “I will not let you drive a wedge between us.”
“The wedge is already there. That girl is not your friend. She might tell herself she wants to be, but she wants what you have even more.”
“That’s not true!” Evangeline snapped. And she could have kept arguing. She could have continued fighting with Jacks until the end of Time. Luckily for Time, the path to the Fortuna cottage was short, and they’d already reached the door. It was the soft purple of frosted plums, with a cherub-shaped knocker buried in its center.
Jacks took the cherub’s ring and gave it two quick raps.
Evangeline swore the knocker frowned, and she understood how it felt.
She wouldn’t want to be touched by Jacks either. Not again. Her lips still tingled from where he’d touched her, and if she licked them, she knew she’d taste his blood again. He’d marked her. Now he planned to use her.
Nerves writhed inside her as the door before her opened. She wondered once more at what Jacks really wanted and what her kiss would do to the Fortuna matriarch.
As a servant led her and Jacks inside, she tried to figure out what he could possibly be after. It became immediately clear that the Fortunas were very wealthy. Everything in their storybook castle was twice as large as the items inside of the house where Evangeline had grown up. Even the carpets were thicker, swallowing the heels of her boots with every step. But Evangeline doubted Jacks was simply after wealth.
She watched him closely, specifically his eyes to see if they landed on any particular objects. The servant led them past a line of portraits of people with white-blond hair and painted smiles before finally settling them into a warm sitting room with two crackling marble fireplaces, a polished quartz piano, and a large bay window. There was a charming view of a snow-covered garden, where a fluffy snow cat pounced after a merry blue dragon laughing sparks.
Jacks didn’t even glance at the scene or any of the lovely things in the room. He stopped at one of the fireplaces, leaned an elbow against the mantel, and watched her with shameless intent.