I was interrupted by the Paters, who stepped out of the hunting lodge in a pack, each in a white tunic fashioned like a toga, with a coil of rope slung over his shoulders. An immediate alertness passed through the mingling daughters, like a herd of deer spotting danger.
Chief Dorsey pushed his way to the front and I shrunk back, trying to disappear in the crowd so he couldn’t see my face. His cheeks were red, eyes bright. “Daughters,” he boomed. “Welcome to the nymph hunt, one of our oldest traditions.” A smile split his face. “When I say run, you’ll get ten minutes to flee as far and fast as you can. On behalf of your Paters, we beg you to try your best.”
My heart began to skip. I’d thought any minute, they were going to let us inside the lodge, and things would unfold like they normally did, with alcohol and rituals. They wanted us to run?
“Any Pater who captures a nymph can exert his right to ravish his conquest. After which he’ll bind them and bring them back to the lodge. The Pater who hunts the most wins an audience with the Philosopher himself—after tonight’s bacchanalia, of course, where we drink and eat until we can’t see straight, in the ancient tradition.” Dorsey’s rough voice, better suited to barking commands, fumbled over the flowery words. “Paters, daughters, as you’ll soon hear, there’s no better time to be a Pater. So tonight, we celebrate.”
Around me, women crouched, arms and legs tensing, eyes flitting to the trees. They were getting ready. Every instinct warned me that if I took off into the woods, into the gray mist rolling off the river, I would cease being a woman and become something more animal.
The chief of police checked his watch, and the Paters behind him shuffled in anticipation. There was the Lieutenant, in front, the Disciple, near the back, and even the Marquis. The men who hid behind archetypes. But I could see them. I would uncover them, learn each of their names. As long as I managed to leave this island.
Wait, I thought suddenly. What will happen if the Lieutenant catches me—or, god forbid, the Disciple? Nicole said they want to punish me. Why am I giving them this chance? But it was already too late.
“Run!” Dorsey’s voice cracked through the woods like a shot.
The daughters took off in every direction, looking less like nymphs from Greek myths than wide-eyed deer trying to outrun a trap. Laughter boomed from the Paters, an electric sound, stripping me of rational thought, launching me into motion. I sprinted into the forest, away from their eyes and their ropes and their hungry smiles.
My feet pounded the forest floor as I hopped over gnarled tree roots, pushing myself as fast as my legs would take me. My foot landed wrong and my ankle twisted; I fell, hands finding sharp tree branches on the ground, but I picked myself up and kept going. Soon I couldn’t see the other women anymore: just the fog and dark trees when they got close enough. I thought for a moment that I could run all the way to the other end of the peninsula, or to the shore and dive into the Hudson, no matter how frigid the water, and swim to where Jamie waited.
I blazed past a tree and ran chest first into something solid, falling backward.
“Fuck you,” a voice cried.
I scrambled up, wiping stinging hands on my dress. “Nicole?”
She sat up from where she’d fallen, glaring, her red hair wild and tumbling down her back. Then she realized, and her glare softened. “Shay?”
I ran to her and lifted her up, flush with relief. I’d let her walk into the dark with the Chief, but she was okay—she was here, alive and breathing. I hadn’t failed her. Before I could help it, my cheeks were hot and wet.
“What are you doing here?” I managed. “I thought you weren’t allowed to come to gatherings.”
She bent over, sucking in air. “It’s Adam’s lodge. It’s his event.”
“Really?” There was no way any police chief could afford a second home like that one on a public salary.