“The stench was familiar,” Finch replied.
“You knew I was coming. You were notified in advance. Don’t try to make yourself appear psychic. It’s not a good look on you,” I said. “How’ve you been?”
Finch chuckled. “Peachy, Sis. You?”
“Had a run-in with the Ryder twins.”
Oh, that got me his full attention, curiosity glimmering in his eyes.
“I take it they’re trouble? I told you, Sis, there’s no stopping my mom,” he sneered.
“Were trouble,” I replied dryly.
He stilled, frowning. “Beg your pardon?”
“Were. No longer an issue. Emmett is dead. Emily got herself a private suite here in Purgatory. I doubt you’ll meet her at lunchtime, though,” I said. “She’s going to spend the rest of her life in isolation. Or she might get executed—though I seem to recall reading somewhere that executions are rarer these days than they used to be, am I right?” Before he could respond, I continued firmly. “Either way, until we find Katherine, she’s a potential asset. If she decides to be helpful, she might get a life sentence.”
Finch exhaled, a vein angrily pumping in his temple. “They should’ve torn you to shreds. You’re a flea compared to what the Ryders can do.”
“I suppose you knew them and all about what they were planning to do, long before you had your ass dropped in here, huh?” I asked, offering a smirk to go with it. He didn’t say anything, but that, to me, meant yes. It didn’t take a genius psychologist to figure Finch out. So I decided to drill, poke, and prod until I got him to open up some more. “I understand you’ve had no visits or calls whatsoever for the past month,” I continued. “You refused to see Adley, the only person who actually cares about you. She told me to tell you that she still loves you, for some reason.”
His eyes found mine, and I could’ve sworn I spotted a flicker of regret where Adley was concerned.
“Anyway, I just wanted to give you some updates about what’s going on in the world of the free,” I said. “No matter how much scheming and planning you do, Finch, I will still come out victorious. I never drank the poison of Katherine Shipton, who, by the way, clearly doesn’t give a damn about you. I thought she would’ve at least tried to send you a message or something. But no. You’re all alone in this cold, dark dump.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Finch replied. “And you’re certainly not the right person to tell me about what my mother thinks or feels about me. Last time I checked, your daddy was still chasing her, after he murdered your mother,” he added with a cold grin.
His skin began to ripple. I heard bones crack. Finch was shifting, but I couldn’t figure out into whom or why, until the transformation was complete, and he straightened his back.
“You son of a…” My voice trailed off.
My heart broke in an instant, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to give Finch a win. Not today, not after everything I’d been through. Finch had just shifted into my father—just to mess with me. I recognized the rich, black hair… His eyes were like mine and, ironically, still Finch’s, too. He looked different from the memories and photos I had of him. He was still wearing the yellow prison jumpsuit, which automatically reminded me of his time in jail, prior to his execution.
“Anything you want to say to the old man?” Finch asked, his voice deeper and smoother, further tearing me apart on the inside. It was Hiram Merlin’s voice. It was Hiram Merlin’s body he was wearing. But he wasn’t Hiram Merlin. He didn’t need to obtain my father’s DNA to copy him. It was already present in the blood running through his veins. That and a picture seemed to have been enough. He was trying to rile me up, and I found it extremely difficult to keep it together.
“Yeah, actually,” I replied, keeping my cool. “I know about Sál Vinna, the Icelandic love curse. Someone close to my father actually told me about it, so we did some research. Turns out it’s a powerful spell. Are you familiar with it, Finch? Do you know what it does?”
Hiram-Finch narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s your point?”
“I’m positive that it was used on my father, just like it was used on Oberon Marx, and who knows how many other people. It’s extremely perverted mind control, the kind you don’t even realize you’re under until it’s too late. Until you do something terrible, like killing your wife, the love of your life, the mother of your child. All because Katherine Shipton didn’t like your rejection,” I replied, suddenly addressing him as Hiram. It felt therapeutic somehow, as if I was, in fact, talking to my father. “You see, I know the truth, Dad. I know it wasn’t really you who did those terrible things, and I will prove it. I will clear your name and let everyone know that you were never a killer. That you were just another victim of Katherine Shipton. I promise you.”
A minute passed in heavy silence, until Hiram-Finch finally burst into a mocking cackle.
“You think you’re clever, but you’re actually delusional,” he said. “You really think our dad was that kind of a saint? Hah!”
“Have you ever met him?” I asked.
He shook his head. “He didn’t even know I was alive.”
“So then why the hate toward him?” I replied, smiling. “Every memory I have of him shows me a man with a good heart and a soft smile, who loved his child more than anything in the world. Had he known about you, Finch, he would’ve taken you into his home. He would’ve been your father. He would’ve loved you like he loved me. You never gave him a chance because it was easier to believe Katherine’s lies. I get that. But don’t expect me to be as gullible and as easy to manipulate as you.”
That was the boiling point for Finch. He shifted back to his original form and lunged at the door, roaring and cursing and punching and kicking as hard as he could. Mallenberg sighed, then closed and locked the latch on his door. Finch’s rage echoed through Purgatory. On one hand, I felt sad for him. However, I also knew full well that his circumstances were simply the result of his poor choices.
But I believed every word I’d just said. I was positive that, had my father known about Finch, he wouldn’t have stood by. He would never have allowed Katherine to poison his mind like that.
“It’s been a while since he’s had a fit of rage,” Mallenberg said, while Finch continued to snarl and bang his fists against the door. “The prison physician gives him some powerful antipsychotics. You managed to get the beast out again, it seems.”
“He deserved some hard, cold truths. Medication can’t protect him from that,” I answered, then raised my voice for Finch to hear me. “I’ll see you again, soon, Big Brother! Like it or not, I’m the only family you’ve got left.”
“Go to hell, Merlin!” Finch punched the door again.
“It will be a while until you figure this part out, Finch,” I replied. “But Katherine won’t give a crap about you unless you’re useful. Right now, you’re anything but. Your best chance at any kind of redemption and recovery is if you help me take her and her associates down, before she destroys any more lives.”
“You’re going to die, Harley! You’re going to suffer and die!” Finch barked.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
I rolled my eyes and gave Mallenberg a polite nod. He escorted us back toward the reception hall. Wade walked by my side, still silent and curious, while Finch’s bellows rippled behind us, fading as we drew farther away from him.
“Do you think you’ll make him talk?” Wade finally asked once we were back in front of the reception hall’s mirror.
“Eventually,” I said. “He didn’t know about the Icelandic curse; I could tell from his reaction. He didn’t think Katherine would use such magic on her lover, his father… my father. Soon enough, he’ll start wondering what else she hasn’t told him. Who else she’s used the curse on. It’s only a matter of time. I’ll keep working on him until it happens.”
Wade nodded slowly, hands behind his back. I stepped toward the rippling mirror, then glanced over my shoulder to find him watching me.
“By the way, I’m in,” I said.
He blinked a couple times. “You’re in… what?”
“Is your brain glitching? I’m joining the San Diego Coven,” I replied, but didn’t wait to see his reaction.
As I strode through the mirror and left him behind, I found myself smiling, filled with sheer excitement and relief—all Wade’s. Actually, most of it. Well, more like half. I, too, was glad to have made the decision.
He joined me back in the Assembly Hall and let out an audible sigh.
That was his response. To some, it would’ve been insufficient. To me, it was more than enough. He wanted me here, and he didn’t have to say it out loud. I could feel it in the very center of my soul.
I wanted to be in the San Diego Coven. I really did. It had become my home, the center of my universe.
And it needed me, now more than ever.