Darker Than Night - Amelia Wilde Page 0,46

his hands covering his face. When I come into the room he sits up and clears his throat. “We’re finding placements for all the women tonight,” I tell him.

“Placements?”

“You saw Olympus burn, did you not?”

James huffs. “I saw.”

“Match each of the women with a temporary residence. Homes where they can recuperate. Families that will take care of them. They’ll need at least three months, maybe six.” I take a seat at my desk, leaving him at the round table. James takes out his phone and starts tapping at the screen. “Nice places. Shelters are an option, but if they even hint at being underfunded, I want donations in bank accounts by the end of the week.”

“Until you’ve rebuilt?”

“Until they're ready.” A mild sidestep never actually murdered anyone.

The process of vetting available families and shelters in the city takes the better part of two hours. James drops sheet after sheet crowded with information onto my desk. I have one stack of women’s names, another stack of places for them to live, and matches to make.

“Go home.” James is standing—swaying, really—in front of my desk. “Tell Cal he can keep the blanket. Update me tomorrow evening on the insurance paperwork.”

They will need my signature to begin demolition and the process of rebuilding. They’ll need several of my signatures, in fact.

But it’s not fear of paperwork that keeps me at the desk, sorting and matching and making agonizing phone calls, until the sun comes up.

It’s been up for nearly two hours when Brigit appears at the threshold, looking pink and flushed and fresh. She wears soft leggings and a top that looks like it would tear easily in my hands. “Have you been here all night?”

“I had business.” At some point during our working hours, James pulled a chair up on the other side of my desk. I wave Brigit into it now. It doesn’t escape me that we’ve been on opposite sides of a desk like this in far more delicious situations.

“Is that what you discuss with me?” She searches my eyes. “I meant to ask you about it last night, but—”

“You were tired. I don’t hold it against you.”

I smile at her, but she doesn’t trust it. “What are all the papers?”

A strange prickling begins behind my eyes. “These are placements around the city for all the women at Olympus. James is already putting calls out to confirm the matches. Everyone will have a safe haven and enough time to find new, secure employment.”

Brigit frowns down at the stacks on the desk. “That’s good. Right? I mean, they can’t all stay on the mountain forever.”

“Just for the week. Hades is sending them back on the train and I’m arranging transportation to wherever they need to go.”

“Okay. Will you come back to bed now?”

My chest is one giant bruise and Brigit’s question punches a hole through it. For a moment my lungs refuse to take in air. I force the issue. “I’ve also found a placement for you.” I lift the last match I made from the stack, the papers held together with a silver paperclip.

Brigit doesn’t hear what I’ve said, and then she does, and she jerks back in her chair. “What?”

I push the paper across the desk to her and she puts a hand on it as if to push it back. “One of Dr. Jain’s friends is a major donor to the hospital. She’s agreed to do me a personal favor. You’ll have the complete use of a private guest house and car. She’s assured me that she can find you a position in managing her donations or, if you’d prefer, in one of her nonprofits.”

“If I’d prefer—what I’d prefer is for you to stop.” Brigit’s eyes are sharp as razors, wounded as a broken heart. The quaver in her voice is almost enough to make me lose my nerve.

Almost.

“It’s the best possible outcome.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

I’m saying I would die for you. I’m saying this will kill me. I’m saying this is already a fatal blow.

“You’re better off without me.” I fold my hands on the desk to keep from bunching them into fists. “You and the baby will both be better off in a different life.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s absolutely true.” This requires a hard swallow to get through. “Whether you believe it or not, I’m too much like my father. He’s embedded himself too deeply for me to cut him out. Of course, you already know this. You’ve met me before.” I try to smile