“Oh my. Seems you’ve gotten yourself in a bit of a pickle, Mr. Meschino.” He struggles beneath me, but it’s a half-hearted effort that dies when I press my knee harder to his chest. “Tell me why you’re really here.”
“N … Nolan. Nolan Rhodes. Sam … Sam took him. He was going to … to force him to t-talk before handing him to … you.”
“Where is Rhodes now?”
“D-don’t know.”
I make a mental note to check the premises for any sign of Rhodes, though I doubt he would have left much behind. But there is plenty of evidence of Sam’s presence in a building that doesn’t belong to him. And now there’s his companion. Two men who were obviously up to no good. It’s easy for emotions to run high when right and wrong are involved. Morals are tested. Allegiances break.
“N-Nolan Rhodes … is a killer …” Meschino says. “And Harp … Harper Starling, she’s not who she s-says she is. And Arthur Lancaster—”
“Ah yes,” I reply, my tone grim. “Arthur Lancaster. I’ve heard that one before.”
“B-but … the p-property at the Ballantyne River—”
“Do you know about the Symbolist movement in literature?” I interrupt as I pat down Meschino’s pockets. He moans a non-answer.
“Didn’t think so. The Symbolist movement believed art should unlock the fundamental truths of humanity by systematically ‘deranging the senses.’ Isn’t that wonderful? Systematic derangement. Think about it.” I give his temple a light tap with the muzzle of my gun and he whimpers. With a deep sigh, I lean back, pulling a knife from my belt with my free hand. “Je suis un berceau, qu’une main balance, au creux d’un caveau: Silence, silence!” I grin down at Meschino, watching as his confusion bleeds into fear. An alchemical transformation of the soul. It’s a delicious concoction. My favorite elixir.
“Please … I have a family. A d-daughter …”
“How fitting. Life. Death. The cyclical nature of time.” I push my hat up with my gun and cast my gaze around us, checking the corners, listening for anything beyond the quiet sobs of the injured man beneath my knee. “That tattoo on Mr. Rhodes is prophetic, don’t you think? He was meant to come to Carnage. Just like Harper Starling fits right in at Lancaster Manor, doesn’t she?” I slip the handle of the knife against Meschino’s palm. He’s too weak to fight me off. A faint smile hooks the corners of my mouth as confusion filters into his eyes. It’s the first genuine smile I’ve felt in a long while. The first stir of my heart against my ribs as I tighten his grip around the handle of the blade. “Or should I say, Autumn Bower.”
I raise Vinny’s hand, tilting the tip of the knife so it faces me. His eyes dart between mine and the polished blade that I bring closer to my body. “W-what are you doing?”
“Taking care of my toys.”
He’s too weak to stop me as I push the tip of the blade into my uniform, piercing just beneath my collarbone. I welcome the pain. “You know, I really should commend you. I didn’t know her true identity. I never looked at it closely. I just figured the old man had a soft spot for a woman much like the daughter he lost. But you and Sam are the ones who pieced it together.”
I consume Meschino’s confusion as I push the knife deeper into my flesh. The burn blooms, its caress a systematic derangement of nerves beneath my skin. I am art. Poetry come to life to challenge Vinny’s perception of the world as it slips through his grasp. Every shake of his head, every word of disbelief, every breath of mounting terror feeds a darkness that I spend too much time trying to hide.
“I hear you’ve been looking for La Plume,” I say as I rise to my feet, aiming my gun at Vinny’s shaking, blood-streaked head. He begs for his life as I squeeze the trigger. With a single shot that echoes across brick and copper, his pleas fall silent.
“You found him.”
Acknowledgments
FIRSTLY, THANK YOU TO YOU, dear reader, for spending some of your time with Harper (or NOT Harper, in this case!), Nolan, Arthur, and the rest of the cast and crew of Cape Carnage. It’s always so exciting to start a new series, and I truly felt like the town sucked me right in from the start. Parts of Carnage were loosely based on some of the small towns across Nova Scotia that I’ve had the privilege to live or spend time in. They’re quirky and close-knit, with colorful characters and unusual histories. Don’t worry, they’re not murdery (at least, not that I know of!), and you should absolutely go visit. I hope you enjoyed your time in Cape Carnage and that you fell in love with Harper and Nolan as much as I did. There’s so much left to their journey, and I can’t wait for book two!
Thank you to Chris McKay, whose question about Butcher & Blackbird during our very first B&B movie discussion set off the whole idea for this series: “What happened to Autumn?” I’m so grateful you asked. That question stuck with me, and it’s resulted in one of my favorite books I’ve ever written. So, THANK YOU!
Huge thanks to Kim Whalen from the Whalen Agency. You deserve all the champagne in the world. You’re always there, no matter if it’s something big or something small. You work so fucking hard. I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me. Thank you also to Mary Pender at WME for all your ongoing support. You’re such a pleasure to work with!
To Molly Stern, Sierra Stovall, Hayley Wagreich, Andrew Rein, Julia McGarry, and the Zando team, thank you for helping me bring the Seasons of Carnage series to life, and for taking a chance on it when it was still in the “I can’t tell you what it is yet because I don’t really know” stage, HAHA. You are always up for entertaining some wild ideas, and I’m very grateful for all the work you put in behind the scenes to put my books in the hands of readers. Thank you also to Ellie Russell and Becky West at Little, Brown UK, as well as Glenn Tavennec and Benoit André from Label Verso (France) for continuing to be such huge supporters of my work—I can’t wait to see Cape Carnage overseas! And I will always be so eternally grateful to András Kepets in Hungary. I’m not sure any of this would have happened without his help!
To my wonderful PA, Val Downs of Turning Pages Designs. Thank you so much for everything you do! From the amazing graphics you make to all the unseen support you give, you are such a delight to work with. I appreciate you so much. Thank you also to Jess Stamp, not only are you a great friend and a fab early vibe checker, but you keep my Facebook group from descending into chaos, and I’m so grateful, haha!
A HUGE shout-out to the amazing ARC readers and social media supporters who take the time to read and hype my work. Thank you so much for all you do to read, promote, and talk about these stories. Many of you have been on this journey with me for years! That’s so hard to fathom!! It means so much to me that you’re willing to take time out of your day to spend time with my characters, and I’m honored to be on this journey with you. A special note of thanks to Abbie, Chelsea, Lauren, and Kristie, whom I had the honor of becoming friends with on this wild ride; I’m so grateful this roller coaster brought you into my life.
To Samantha Brentmoor, audiobook narrator empress extraordinaire, thank you for your unfailing love and support. You’re the greatest hype woman and girl’s girl, and I’m so grateful for your friendship.
Similarly, a huge thank-you to all my author friends. I’m very fortunate, because you’re too many to name for fear of leaving anyone out, though I do need to shout out a few who have played a particularly active role not only in the journey of this book, but in my life as I navigate the highs and lows of publishing. To Santana Knox and H. D. Carlton. My human centipede. You’re both so generous with your time and your huge hearts, and I love you so much. To my local ladies, Emma Noyes and Stacia Stark: Where’s My Hat?! To Lyla Sage, you are the only person I’ll let lead me into a cult, and I’m not even paid by Zipfizz to say that.
