Work Text:
Aunt Helene shows up all in black.
That's not surprising. She's never worn anything else that Daniel's seen since that... well, Daniel doesn't like to think about it too hard, but nightmares aren't like the monsters under your bed. You can't turn on a light and wish them away.
He just tries to make sure Alex doesn't have too many of them. Only one of them needs to suffer.
No, what's surprising is that she shows up at all. Aunt Helene tries not to be around them unless she absolutely has to. She still stays in the house because Dad says she has a right to, because she's family, and they owe it to her.
Daniel wouldn't want to stay in a place where someone he loved died, but then again, he's a kid. He doesn't really have a choice at this point.
But Aunt Helene steers clear of them for the most part. She sticks to her rooms, has maids bring her up food, and occasionally, scares the crap out of Daniel and Alex in the middle of the night by ghosting through the halls, glaring at them when they see her.
They've both learned to be very good at finding their way in the dark with their eyes closed.
“Helene,” Dad says. “I'm so glad you came out for this.”
She sniffs. “You didn't give me much choice,” she says. “The new maid is simply dreadful.”
Dad just sort of smiles. “Well, we'll get you someone better. And speaking of that--”
He motions to Stevens, who exits for a moment and then returns, bringing in something... someone that makes Daniel blink and go, uh what? His brother looks equally confused.
It's a girl. A blonde girl with frizzy hair in a white dress who palms her hands nervously on her dress and looks down at her feet.
“This is Grace,” his dad says. “She's yours, Helene.”
And all hell breaks loose.
“Are they always like this?” Grace asks in a hushed tone. “I mean, yelling and screaming.”
Daniel looks down at his brother, gripping his hand in his sleep, and shakes his head. “You're lucky,” he says. “Usually, they're just really polite and kind of mean. Mom's nice, though,” he adds.
Grace slumps against the closet wall. “I think I want to go back,” she mumbles. “At least back there, I got to wear jeans.”
“Don't worry,” Daniel says. “I think the dress is just to impress Aunt Helene. Make you look all pretty.”
“Pretty.” Grace blinks.
Daniel's really glad it's dark in the closet because that way, Grace can't see how red he is. “You know, because you're a gift?”
He doesn't need to see Grace's face to hear how she reacts to that. “A gift? Are you kidding me? Why does your aunt need a kid as a gift?”
“Uh.” Daniel's desperately trying to think up a good excuse for that, because he really doesn't want to explain the whole murdering his uncle thing because yeah, this closet kind of reminds him of that, and also, he thinks Dad might get really mad about spilling family secrets to someone who isn't family.
Eventually, he settles for, “Aunt Helene's husband just died, and Dad's kind of worried about her. He wanted to get her something she could love?” Yeah, it sounds way worse when he says it.
And Grace agrees. “I'm not a dog or a cat,” she hisses back at him. “What, are you guys going to pat my head and put a collar on me and call me a good girl when I behave?”
“No,” Daniel says weakly. “I'm pretty sure Aunt Helene doesn't think any of us are good.”
The silence is definitely awkward and it goes on for a while.
He's about to open his mouth and probably say something else that's really stupid when he's saved by the door bursting open. A dark shadow looms in the light.
Daniel and Grace both blink, while Alex starts to yawn and open his eyes.
“Everything's fine,” Dad says. “Congratulations, Grace. You're a Le Domas now.”
Grace bursts into tears.
For a while, he doesn't see Aunt Helene or Grace.
Aunt Helene moves out the next day, because she says she wants to raise Grace in a proper environment. Daniel translates that to “you killed my husband and I don't trust you to not do the same to this new shiny toy I now have.”
Which is stupid, because Grace is family now. She's not marrying into the family, so she gets to skip that, Daniel figures, because they would have had to play a game by now, right?
Instead, Daniel's life goes mostly back to normal. Ignoring Dad, trying to please Mom, and taking care of his brother.
“She was nice,” Alex says one night, while they're lying in their beds. He should be sleeping in his own room, but ever since that night, he's insisted upon being in the same one as Daniel.
And since it's Alex, Mom agreed, even arguing with Dad until he relented, because as much as Dad hates giving Daniel what he wants, he hates Mom being mad at him even more.
“Who?” Daniel's staring up at the ceiling “Emilie? Because you know she's only been nice recently because Mom told her she couldn't get a pony unless she was a good girl.”
“No,” and Daniel knows Alex is rolling his eyes. “Grace. I liked her.”
“You met her for like a minute,” Daniel says. “You were asleep for most of it.”
But Alex is stubborn. “She was nice, though. Does she have to--” and he stops, audibly gulps. “Does she have to play a game?”
Daniel turns over, looks at his brother. “No,” he says reassuringly. “She's family. Of course not.”
“Uncle Charles was family,” Alex replies quietly. “And he had to.”
“She's not Uncle Charles,” Daniel says. “She'll be all right.”
Alex nods.
Daniel wishes he could believe that. Just because you don't have to play hide and seek, he thinks, doesn't mean that you're not constantly playing games in the Le Domas family.
Aunt Helene shows up all in black.
Again.
What's new is the shadow next to her, a pale, quiet thing with neatly braided blonde hair, polished black shoes, and a black dress.
“Helene,” Dad says smiling, and bends down. “And Grace! You've grown so much since we last saw you! You're looking like a proper young lady now.” He looks over at Emilie, swinging her legs back and forth on the sofa. “You could take lessons from her, Emilie.”
“Whatever,” Emilie says, popping the gum in her mouth. “She looks like Aunt Helene now. It's creepy.”
“Emilie!” Mom says, chiding her, then turning to Grace to smile at her. “I think you look very nice.”
“She should,” Helene says. “I'm in charge of her after all.” She looks at Grace. “Stand up straight. Don't slouch.”
Grace nods and stands there, rigid and unmoving.
Shit, Daniel thinks.
It gets even worse at dinner. Her table manners are impeccable, she doesn't speak at all, and Daniel catches Aunt Helene and Dad exchanging approving looks. Mom tries to draw her out in conversation once, but one look from Aunt Helene makes Grace look back down at the table.
Daniel thinks he prefers it when everyone was yelling.
After dinner, he's left alone while the grown-ups talk and drink and snipe at each other. Emilie's already playing on her brand new Gameboy, ignoring everyone else, and Mom took Alex to bed already, since he hasn't been sleeping well lately.
No need to guess why that is.
Daniel thinks he should go up there to keep him company, but he's got Mom right now.
Grace has no one.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. He's really scared she'll say no, or start crying, or worse, just stare at him with a blank look and distant eyes like Helene did after they took Charles' body away.
Grace doesn't do any of that. She raises her head, looks directly at Daniel, and says, “Your aunt really doesn't like you, does she?”
“Yeah, she kind of hates me,” he says, even as his mind whirls in shock at the change. Other Grace was meek, obedient, kind of creepy in one of those porcelain dolls that stares at you from a chair way. This Grace is...
He doesn't really pray to anything, but he kind of wants to thank someone that Grace isn't completely messed-up like the rest of them.
“I got that,” Grace says. “I mean, I don't think she likes any of you, but it seems like she has something really against you.”
Yeah, I got her husband killed four years ago, Daniel thinks, and feels the familiar rush of shame and guilt run through him. And now you're in this family and maybe one day they'll make you hunt someone down and kill them and--
He should tell her to run.
But Daniel is a coward and he's not going to tell Grace anything because who'd believe him? It's such a stupid, obviously fake lie and anyhow, maybe she already knows?
Maybe Helene's told her exactly what Daniel did and Grace is just playing a game with him, trying to see if he'll tell her the truth. And then he'll confess and she'll give him the same look Aunt Helene does, like he's something she scraped off the bottom of her shoe.
Yeah, she's only like 10, same as his brother, but he can see it in her eyes. There's something harder in her than his brother, something cold. It could be from Aunt Helene, but he doubts it.
Grace is used to taking care of herself, Daniel thinks.
That's good. Because he's definitely not any kind of person who can save her.
“Well, you know me,” he says. “Everyone's favorite screw-up.”
Grace nods, but her eyes don't look away. “Right,” she says.
It sounds the same as Liar.
Another wonderful fucking Le Domas party.
He's glad he's not Alex, the favorite, the one being shown around the room like a prized show horse and having to listen to things like, "we're so proud of him, just a great student, does whatever he's told." Then the other guests exchange sympathetic looks because everyone knows about the kids they're not talking about, the screw-ups that they gave so many chances to, but one out of three isn't bad.
Thanks, Dad, Daniel thinks, toasting his glass. You didn't have to say that part out loud.
At least Emilie had already taken off with her friends before she heard it, and Daniel's too drunk to care.
The door swings open and Daniel has a momentary panic of shit, how can I plausibly explain this empty bottle of whiskey, and hey, Dad, I think one of the maids just fell out of the window, but it's--
Grace.
Daniel's shoulders slump with relief. “Shouldn't you be out there?” he asks. “Mingling? He waves his glass around, and some liquor sloshes on the floor.
“You're drinking,” she says quietly. “Alone.”
“How perceptive.” He knocks back the rest of the glass. “I'm just getting ready for college. Got to be prepared for the epic amount of drinking I'll be doing there.”
Grace walks over to him and takes the empty glass out of his hands. He thinks his grip on it is tight, but the press of her fingers cause him to loosen them up, letting it out without resistance.
She sets it down on the table. “Your dad's proud of you.”
Daniel laughs. “Oh, Grace. You'll never be a true Le Domas unless you get better at lying.”
Her smile is lopsided, tired. “Is that something to aspire to?” she asks.
“Not really.” Daniel lets himself fall back on the couch, close his eyes. If he listens closely, he can hear the sounds of laughing in the distance. At least someone's happy tonight. “But I think you've learned that already.”
“Aunt Helene is a thorough teacher,” Grace says, sitting down next to him. “You know, I think she's also pleased you're leaving.”
He opens his eyes so they can exchange knowing looks. “Well, it does mean she doesn't have to deal with me for a while,” Daniel says. “Although Emilie's probably not going to enjoy being the new least favorite.”
“Really?” Grace smirks. “I'd think I would be in the running for that.”
Daniel shakes his head. “Nice try, Grace,” he says, “but we all know Aunt Helene likes you the best.”
“In that she vaguely tolerates me and calls me by my name most of the time?”
“Hey, that's high praise from her.” Daniel's head is starting to pound. Either he needs to go to sleep or drink more, and he knows which one he'd prefer. “Next thing, you'll tell me that she actually smiles at you.”
Grace does smile at that, sweet and lovely, and says, “Oh, Daniel. I thought you wanted me to learn to tell better lies.”
He doesn't come home for four years.
Each year, he vaguely thinks about it, and each time, the small desire to see Mom and Emilie and Alex... and Grace, is vastly overshadowed by having to put up with Dad's bullshit.
No, Dad, I don't want to be a business major.
No, Dad, I don't want to be introduced to this girl.
No, Dad, I don't think Aunt Helene will ever forgive us for her husband and buying her a kid isn't going to change that.
So he fucks around college instead.
“You're a Le Domas?” Andre drunkenly asks him, elbowing him. “What's that like?”
“Do you guys play games like all the time?” Donna chimes in. “Seriously, you must be so good at them.”
“Not really,” Daniel says. “I kind of suck at them.”
They laugh and Daniel thinks, that wasn't a joke.
But yeah, it's pretty damn funny anyhow. He'll drink to that.
A lot of college passes by in a blur. He thinks his grades are adequate, and if they're not, it doesn't really matter because his family's loaded, no one expects much from him, and the less he pleases Dad, the happier he feels.
And then it's winter break of his fourth year and there's a plane ticket in his mailbox and he should rip it up, call them and say no fucking way, but there's a Post-It on the top of it that says:
We miss you
There's only two people that probably mean that and only one that would actually dare to buck Dad and invite him home.
So he's on a plane, taking a shuttle and before he knows it, he's at the front door of the house, taking a deep breath and he hears:
“About fucking time.”
Daniel looks over and there's Grace, leaning on a tree. She's gotten taller, her hair's no longer braided, and she's smoking a cigarette, which shit, Aunt Helene would probably murder her for, but there's no real time to think about that because his next thought is--
I have to leave. Right now. Shit, I have to go before...
Before...
Grace smiles at him, drops the cigarette, and Daniel is fucking lost, drowning at the sight of her and the realization that he can never come home again because she's fucking gorgeous and he doesn't know what to do with that.
“She lets you do that?” Daniel blurts out, because he doesn't know what else to say to her.
“Of course not,” Grace says. “But what Aunt Helene doesn't know won't hurt her. And besides, I don't make it a regular habit.”
“Just special occasions?”
“Well, you coming home is pretty special,” she teases.
“Grace!”
“Fuck,” Grace whispers as she toes the grass to hide the evidence. “Don't say anything.”
Daniel mimes zipping his lips and tries not to think about how well he's done in keeping secrets.
Alex has gotten taller, too.
Mom coos over him still, as if he were her little baby, but Daniel can see that this Alex isn't his kid brother anymore. He's a man now.
Who looks at Grace and Daniel recognizes that look.
It's what he sees in the mirror now.
Daniel doesn't know if Grace sees it yet, but it doesn't matter. Because if he had to choose between one brother, who drinks and fails his tests and fucks over his entire life by being himself, and another one, who... well, isn't, it's not hard to see who Grace should pick.
Although, honestly, if living with Aunt Helene has taught her anything, it's that Grace should run far and fast and get the hell away from their family and maybe find someone who doesn't require you to play a children's game on your wedding night.
Would Grace have to, though?
Daniel's never really thought about it that much, since the day Grace came into their lives and his brother asked him that question.
Does it matter if it's blood or not?
I mean, she's a Le Domas, he thinks. She's seen Dad and Mom fight, witnessed Emilie getting high in a bathroom, and probably knows more about what Aunt Helene does in her spare time than any rational human being should have to.
She has to know all the family skeletons. Maybe even the whole Satanic ritual thing. Who knows what Aunt Helene told her or how much she believes, because even Daniel has a hard time with the whole Le Bail thing and he's actually seen Uncle Charles dragged off to his death.
So if Grace knows...
She has to.
“You're being awfully quiet, Daniel,” Mom says. “Something on your mind?”
“Don't encourage him, Becky,” Dad replies. “We're actually having a peaceful dinner for once.”
Aunt Helene just lets out a very theatrical sniff and Daniel catches Grace rolling her eyes.
“Sorry, Dad,” Daniel says. “I was just busy thinking about how much money you paid to have me fail calculus.”
And that sets him off.
The rest of the time is spent relatively uneventful, which is to say that Dad makes pointed comments about Daniel stepping up and involving himself in the family business, and Daniel deliberately avoids hearing them.
It's not as though Dad really wants him there. He's just worried that Alex won't step up when the time comes.
Because it turns out that his little brother has a bit of a rebellious streak. No, he's not getting a tattoo or telling Dad he's knocked up a girl, but he is making subtle hints about maybe not wanting to get into the Le Domas business either.
“I don't know, Daniel,” Alex says, slouching back in his chair. “Dad's talking about having me take over one of the divisions and all I can think is why should I? You didn't have to, so why am I forced to?”
“First off,” Daniel says, “the only reason I don't have to is because Dad doesn't trust me with a company pen, let alone millions of dollars. He might say that he wants me to get involved, but when it comes down to it, you're the golden boy. I'd just be the scapegoat for whatever division he wants to get rid of.”
Alex slumps down further. “I'm only the golden boy because you seem so bent on pissing Dad off. I didn't ask for Mom or Dad to make me it.”
I know, Daniel thinks with some sympathy. There's a lot you didn't ask for, including being born into this family, but if you have to, the least I can do as your older brother is make sure you don't suffer for it.
He forces a smile on his face, kicks his brother's leg, and says, “Cheer up! Maybe we'll both fuck up so bad that they'll have no choice but to make Emilie the head.”
Alex snorts. “Not likely. She got arrested again.”
Ah, Emilie. Fucking over Dad in her own way. “Good job,” he says. “Then I guess Grace is the answer.”
The words die even as they come out of his throat and he regrets saying them. Both he and Alex stare at each other.
“Right,” Alex says softly. “Grace.”
Daniel clears his throat, tries to swallow down the acrid taste that's welling up in it. “Or not,” he says. “Pretty sure she's smarter than that.”
Alex's face clears up at that and he nods enthusiastically. “She really is!”
Oh, fuck. Daniel thinks and goes to see where Dad's been hiding the good brandy.
He's already packed when there's a knock at his door.
“Mom, I told you, I don't need a ride,” Daniel calls out as he opens the door.
Grace is standing there, her hair wet, wearing a white nightgown. She's barefoot.
“I thought you left with Aunt Helene--,” he manages to get out.
“Fuck Aunt Helene,” Grace replies and reaches up to kiss him.
He should stop her.
He doesn't.
Instead, he kisses back, letting his hands tangle in her hair. This is a really fucking stupid idea, he thinks. Your brother has a crush on her, your crazy aunt may or not be using her in a scheme to fuck you all over, and you just came back home to realize that your quasi-cousin is beautiful, smart, and way too good for you.
In the grand scheme of stupid things you've done, this is definitely in the top three.
Grace breaks away first, smiling at him, and he shouldn't feel this glow from it, but he does. “So that happened,” Daniel says. “I—uh--”
“I told you I missed you,” Grace says. “I didn't say exactly why.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Daniel replies. “You do realize how bad this is, right?”
Grace only grins. “Yeah, I had no idea,” she murmurs. “But isn't your family made of bad ideas?”
Daniel responds by kissing her.
Eventually, they break away, flushed and panting.
“You should go back to your room,” Daniel says. “Before someone finds out.”
Grace shrugs. “Fine,” she says.
She walks to the door, then turns to look at him. “But come home more often.”
“Aren't you off to college?” Daniel asks.
She smiles lopsidedly, and walks away.
He goes to the door, watches her pale shape drift down the hallway until it can't be seen.
“Shit,” he says and turns around.
Daniel will never admit that the sound that comes out of his throat is a strangled shriek, but really, could anyone blame him?
Helene stands there, watching him, and how much did she see? Does she know? Daniel's mouth clamps shut and words dry up in his throat.
But she doesn't say anything, only stares at him piercingly and goes the opposite direction, a black shadow that blends into the darkness of the halls.
“Well, that could have gone worse,” he finally says.
The next time he sees Grace, it's at a wedding.
Thankfully, not hers, because Daniel's still deeply confused about what the hell he should be doing and Grace is in California and Alex may be there too, and that's a whole mess too, because he's pretty sure his brother is still crushing hard and what is about the Le Domas family that they can fuck something up as simple as that?
No, it's Emilie's. She's marrying someone utterly unmemorable and dishwater dull and Daniel could not be happier, except for the whole part where this means it's the fun traditional game night and oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, how the hell is Grace going to handle this?
“Deep thoughts,” a voice says and he smiles back. It's a standard reflex at this point whenever he hears her and he's so much more gone than he wants to be.
Grace stands there in her mint green satin dress, looking poufy and wrinkled and still devastatingly beautiful. Even during the ceremony, it was hard for him to keep his eyes off of her.
“Well, it is a wedding,” Daniel says. “And my sister is marrying the most boring man alive.”
“I'll admit it was a bit of a shock to me, too,” Grace says. “But hey, at least he showed a little bit of life when he didn't realize Aunt Helene was behind him.”
They both laugh. “Right,” Daniel smirks. “Well, every feast needs its ghost.”
Grace walks over to him, and he scoots a little bit over until she elbows him a little bit further on the bench. She kicks off her heels and they both go flying into the grass. “So where's the champagne?” she says. “Your sister's married so they must have broken out the good stuff.”
“Probably,” Daniel says. “It's still a cash bar, though. My dad didn't get rich by being remotely generous or thoughtful.”
Grace gives him a look. “Huh,” she says, and he knows what that means. It means, I'm not commenting on your dad being a tightwad because I'm more interested in the fact that you don't have a drink.
And Daniel has no idea what to say to that, because yeah, he still feels that bottomless pit inside him that needs something to drown it out, but every time he's around Grace, it becomes a little more manageable.
And he wants to be the person he sometimes thinks she sees, the person she hung out with and laughed and hid in closets and kissed on the lips to send him into a tailspin. That person? Well, maybe he's not a good man, but he tries to be one.
So all he says is, “Yeah, no freebies for family, so I guess I'm going dry.”
Grace smiles and it's so much more intoxicating than anything they're serving here.
And of course, it's immediately spoiled.
“Daniel,” Dad says, and then adds, “Grace,” slightly softer because it's not his delinquent son he's talking to.
“Dad,” Daniel answers. “We were just admiring this beautiful evening. Isn't it perfect weather for your daughter to marry a wooden block?”
Dad just shakes his head. “Not now, Daniel. It's almost time.”
And just like that, the warm feeling inside is gone, replaced by a cold hollow pit. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Really?”
“Yes,” Dad answers. “You know the tradition.”
Grace looks between the two of them, and there's a look of confusion on her face. “The tradition?”
“Dad,” Daniel says and it's more a plea. “Grace doesn't—I mean--”
“Relax, Daniel,” Dad snaps. “Grace doesn't have to.”
The bafflement on her face is complete and Daniel wants to remove it, but there's also a sense of relief in him. Grace doesn't know. She doesn't have to know. She can stay ignorant of it and never have to realize that she had the great fortune to be adopted into a family where game night means hey, Satanic fun for everyone!
But it also means that Daniel just got a wake-up call about Grace and he hates his father, but really, he needs to thank him. Because people like Grace, they deserve better than the Le Domas family. And if she has a chance to escape, she needs to take it.
It's probably too late for him and Alex. Not for her
“I'm sorry, Grace,” Daniel says. “It's for family only.”
He watches her face fall, her eyes well up with tears, knows he's struck home.
It's probably the good shot he'll ever take in his life.
Of course, she doesn't talk to him after that.
He wouldn't either.
Frankly, at this point, Daniel doesn't want to talk to anyone, whether or not they're related to him. He'd rather run up several massive charges at some very nice liquor stores and get plastered in his apartment, until he forgets what day it is, forgets how long he's been here, forgets he's a Le Domas and he has blood on his hands.
He turns his phone off too. If Alex wants to call and check up on him, too bad. He doesn't need his baby brother to look after him, when he should be looking after his future. Alex should be getting out of the family too. He doesn't have blood on his hands yet.
There's still time.
It could be weeks.
It could be months.
It could even be a year.
Daniel sort of loses track. That's what having money does to you. It cushions your life, makes it so you can push away all the unpleasantness of life and just hide, never having to face any problems. And Dad, as much as he'd love to cut him off completely, won't do it because he'd rather deal with a Daniel that's not around to make trouble than one that just needs to open his mouth and start selling secrets.
So he drinks and sleeps and maybe smokes a little weed and the days drift by, one after another, in a dark gray haze.
And one day, there's a pounding and he realizes it's not coming from his head, but from his front door. Blearily, he stumbles to it, kicking the bottles away. Maybe it's Steve, with another delivery.
It's not.
Grace stands there, in a dark blue sweater and jeans, and doesn't say anything, pushing past him and the mess that's currently his life.
“Nice to see you too, Grace,” he says. “Come on in, I'll pour you a drink. Oh, wait. Let me see if there's anything left.”
She snorts. “Cut the crap, Daniel. We're not family. You don't have to be nice to me.”
Oh, and that hurts just as much coming right back at him, but he welcomes it because it's the least of what he deserves.
“So why are you here then?” he asks. “Did my parents send you to talk some sense into me? Or better yet, my brother? Because Alex can just butt out of this right now.”
Grace just smiles and it's a cool, tight one that reminds Daniel of Helene on the rare occasions where she's shown her vindictive pleasure over something. “Maybe he did,” she says. “After all, we may not be family now, but once we get married, that'll change.”
Daniel laughs. “Right,” he says. “Alex. You know, I did tell you to get better at lying.”
But Grace's expression doesn't change. “Well, after you broke my fucking heart, someone had to pick up the pieces. Did you know your brother always had a crush on me?”
No fucking way, Daniel thinks and tries to read her, to see the Grace that he knew. She's not there. Instead, there's a woman with a cold look in her eyes that's calculating his worth and finding it non-existent.
It's the look of Le Domas. “You've got to be fucking kidding me,” he says.
“Am I?”
“Grace--” he says. “You--”
She can't. Even if Alex is the better brother, the more reliable one, the one that didn't murder someone's husband, she still can't marry him. Because she's not family.
Not according to the tradition, and if she has to play the game, if she pulls the card, if Daniel has to track her down and be the one--
He can't.
“You can't,” he manages to get out. “You don't understand.”
“Because you think I'm not good enough for your family?”
“No,” he says desperately. “It's not that—if anything, you're too good.”
She laughs, bitter. “Right. So what else is it?”
Daniel can't get the words out, feels them like knives in his throat, stabbing him, but there's no way to say them. “You—please. Don't. Anyone but us.”
He watches her, looks at her eyes, and sees the moment where something in them changes, a crack in a glass that fractures and something spills out, emotion that he can't read, but it's something that isn't cool indifference and as much as he deserves to be frozen out, he still welcomes the crumbs she gives him.
“You're not going to tell me, are you?” Grace says. “Helene said you probably wouldn't be able to, but she also told me you'd probably try anything in the world to keep me from playing the family game.” Her smile now is more genuine, wistful if anything. “I mean, it is one hell of a secret.”
Daniel blinks and something in his chest loosens. “Aunt Helene?”
“She told me, Daniel.” And Grace leans forward. “And fuck you. I'm a much better liar now.”
“Seriously?” Grace says. “I mean, okay, yeah her husband ended up dead and I can see why that would fuck her up, but you were just a kid. If anyone's to blame, it's people like your dad, who keep letting this shit happen.”
Daniel's managed to clear away some of the debris on the couch, and they're both flopped down on it, drinking the very last remnants from the scattered bottles around the living room. He waves his hand dismissively. “If you really want to blame anyone, we should blame my fucked-up ancestor, who decide to make a Satanic deal rather than actually work hard for anything. Fucking rich people,” he says.
Grace cracks up at this. “And yet, you have probably thousands of dollars of booze in this apartment you've blown through.”
“Yep,” he says. “I'm what's wrong with society.”
“I'll drink to that,” Grace says and clinks her glass against his. “But no, Helene kind of hates you, so it's good to hear more than one side of the story.”
“Oh, I'm pretty sure she got it right. Did she say I was a coward who sold her husband out rather than do the right thing and help him?”
Grace sets her glass down and does the same to his, taking it out of his trembling fingers. “She did,” Grace says calmly. “And then I told her that it didn't sound like the man I knew.”
“Grace--” Daniel says and she kisses him again.
It's even better this time because--
Because she knows who he is and she's still kissing him, still letting him run his fingers though her hair, and lean back on the couch so that they're pressed up against each other.
“It's still a bad idea,” Daniel whispers when they break away.
“The worst,” Grace agrees.
Neither one of them stops.
One kiss turns into more.
One night turns into a week.
One really, terrible idea turns into “why the hell not?”
Grace doesn't move in and he doesn't ask her to. Everyone's got their own secrets they want to keep and right now, he doesn't think he has the right to hers. Not until she decides.
He doesn't ask her to marry him either. They don't even have to talk about it because yeah, the whole Satanic ritual thing is kind of a deal-breaker and even if they only end up playing Old Maid or Go Fish all evening, there's still the whole, “guess what honey? Now you get to learn how to fire a crossbow!”
But it works for them.
Daniel cups her breast, lets his body sink into hers, and Grace, instead of doing the smart thing and kicking him out of her body, her bed, her life, laughs and traces patterns on his cooling, sweaty skin.
“Daniel,” she says, propping her elbows up on the sheets. “You realize we've been sleeping together for a year now.”
“I always forget what kind of anniversary that is,” Daniel replies. “Mom didn't really teach me the etiquette for this. Is it paper? Or no wait, wood?”
Grace laughs and lets her hair fall down, ticking his chest. “I'm not even going to dignify that with a response.”
“Too late,” he says, kissing her on her neck. “You already did.”
Neither one of them talks about when they're going to tell the family.
There really is no good outcome to that conversation.
The thing about being a Le Domas, Daniel thinks, or at least a smart one, is that you're always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing good comes without consequences.
You always have to pay.
Grace holds out the invitation numbly and Daniel scans it, his eyes closing briefly. “Alex is getting married,” he says quietly.
“Not lying this time,” Grace replies. “Can you say no?”
Daniel looks at her. “How well has that ever worked out for me?”
“Daniel.”
“Look,” he says softly. “Maybe it'll be fine. We'll just end up playing some sort of stupid card game and everyone will be bored like they were with Emilie and--”
“Does she know?” Grace asks. “Will Alex have told her?”
He shakes, just a little. “Alex loves her,” he says. “He's not the type to marry for money or because he feels he has to.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
No, it doesn't, Daniel thinks. “He's my brother,” he whispers. “He's a good man.”
“He's having the wedding at your house,” Grace says. “You tell me what that means.”
“Grace.”
“Because you've never asked me to marry you, not once, and you know why that is.”
“I can't--” Daniel stops. “You're asking me to--”
“Do the right thing,” Grace finishes.
“She's not going to believe me,” Daniel says. “I'm the crazy drunken brother that cut ties with the family and ran off with his cousin. You're the adopted daughter of the creepy lady that glares at everyone.”
Grace nods and her smile is sad. “Fine,” she says. “If you can't tell her before, if you think that no one believe you or me, then I'm asking you for this. Give her a chance. If nothing happens and all we do is play card games, then we'll talk to your brother after and tell him he has to tell her the truth. And if something like 30 years ago happens...” She shrugs. “At least she'll have more of a chance with the two of us.”
“I can't ask you to come with me,” Daniel says.
Grace's look sharpens and her grin turns her teeth into knives. “It's a good thing I don't need anyone's permission. I'm still a Le Domas after all.
“Grace,” Dad begins, looking between her and Daniel like they're something distasteful he's scraped off his shoe. “You weren't invited.”
“Oh, I just figured you knew that Daniel and I were together,” Grace says breezily. “You know, because of our whole fucking each other thing.”
“Grace!”
“Let her in.”
Helene's voice rings out, imperious and firm, over everyone else's. Her look is something else, an impenetrable one that isn't her usual one of scorn or disgust.
Daniel doesn't know what it means and frankly, that's the creepiest part about it.
“Helene,” Dad says.
“She's family,” Helene replies. “Or are you telling me that my daughter has less rights than even our hired help.”
Dad sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Let's just hope it's something simple tonight. A kid's game.”
It is not in fact, Go Fish or Old Maid.
It is motherfucking Hide and Go Seek.
“Your family is insane,” Mercy hisses as Daniel and Grace pull her into a nearby deserted room. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”
“Everything,” Daniel and Grace say in unison. They exchange a brief grin.
“If it's any consolation,” Daniel says, “my brother really loves you. They wouldn't have handcuffed him to his bed if he didn't.”
“It's really not,” Mercy says. “He could have fucking told me about this,” she adds.
“Would you have believed him?” Grace asks. “I mean, if your fiancé said, sit down honey, and let me tell you all about how our ancestor fucked everyone over and as a result, we're chasing you down with an axe so we don't end up dead because of our truly abysmal negotiation skills.”
“Fuck no,” Mercy says. “But he and I are going to have some words about this,” she adds. “Because this is unacceptable.” She cocks her gun.
“I like her, “ Grace says. “We should totally exchange recipes or knives or something.”
They hear pounding down the hall.
“Okay,” Daniel whispers. “So we need to split up.”
“No!”
Two different voices say the same thing, and Daniel winces. “We have to,” he says. “Look, Grace, if I distract them while you make a run for the car, you can get Mercy to safety until we figure this whole mess out.”
“Daniel,” Grace says. “That's a really stupid idea.”
“And yet my worst ideas always seem to pay off,” he replies. “Really, I'd be more concerned if it wasn't terrible. Then I'd know I'm losing my touch.”
“Did I ever tell you I hate your jokes?” Grace says.
It isn't a no.
“I'll be fine,” he promises. “It's not like they're going to do anything to me.”
He's staring up at the ceiling, his head bleeding.
Dad's looming over him, angry and the worst part is it's not even a father looking at a son who's disappointed him. It's a man who's seen an obstacle blocking his path and wants to kick it out of his way, so he can proceed, unimpeded.
“Sorry, Dad,” Daniel says. “You're not killing anyone's wife tonight.”
“You know,” Dad answers, “you were a failure from early on, but I can't just blame you for that. Your mom and I did our best, too, but we weren't perfect.”
Daniel blinks. “Is that an admission--”
“No, I made some big mistakes,” Dad continues without paying any sort of attention to his bleeding son. “The primary one was adopting Grace for Helene. I should have just gotten her a cat.”
Oh. Yeah, that makes more sense. It's not the fault of the people who keep repeating history over and over and not learning shit from it except how to kill better. Nope. It's definitely some random kid's fault.
“You know, Dad, it's never your fault, is it?” he says. “There's always someone else to blame. And I kept letting you do that, because I'm a fucking mess, a coward, and a liar who jokes and drinks his way through a lot of shit. And that was fine when it was me. But none of this is Grace's fault. If anything, you should be thanking her for revealing just what pieces of shit we are.”
Dad's face darkens. He raises the gun.
“Becky is with Alex right now,” he says. “He'll be devastated about your death, but maybe it'll teach him a valuable lesson not to trust pieces of trash that are lucky to be given anything that they were given.”
“Fucking rich people,” Daniel says, and he smiles a bloody grin.
Dad shakes his head.
Cocks the trigger.
And then his eyes roll back and he slumps to the floor, the gun tumbling beside him.
Aunt Helene stands there, an axe in her left hand, looking at his body.
“He's still alive,” she says.
“Huh.” Daniel's still too startled to say much.
It turns out he really doesn't have to as the next cry of “Daniel” does the talking for him.
Grace comes running in and skids to a halt in front of him.
Helene looks at her.
“Mother,” she says.
And then she bows her head. “Please,” she adds.
Helene looks at her. Looks back down at Daniel.
A long moment passes.
Then she sighs and walks over to Grace. She kisses the top of her head.
“Stupid child,” she says in a tone that sounds terrifyingly affectionate. “You'll regret it.”
“I love you too,” Grace says and watches Helene walk away.
Daniel doesn't say a word.
She bends down when Helene's left and grabs Daniel's elbow. He's still woozy and unsteady on his feet, so he leans on Grace as they make their way to the steps outside.
“Mercy's okay?” Daniel asks.
She helps Daniel sit down. The sun will come up soon. “As okay as anyone who found out that her fiancé hid a huge fucking secret from her and almost got her killed. Pretty sure Alex is going to have to empty out his bank account just to apologize.”
“Assuming we don't all burst into flames or blow up or something,” Daniel says, laying his head on Grace's shoulder. “There is the curse.”
“Pfft,” Grace says. “I think it's about time your family let go of this shit,” she says. “You stop murdering people and they'll stop making you rich. Even trade!” she adds, raising her voice.
“Don't tell me you're making a contract now,” Daniel says, struggling to raise his head.
“Fuck no.” Grace takes out a cigarette, lights it. The sky is getting lighter and they can hear the sounds of sirens in the distance. “I'm not blood, remember. I'm just saying that as far as I'm concerned, I think this game should be declared over and all the pieces should get to go home.”
“I don't think it works like that.” Daniel yawns.
“Well, then it's a good thing it's my idea, isn't it,” Grace says and kisses him, her lips coming away red. “Because unlike your terrible ideas, mine actually work out in the end.”
They really do, Daniel thinks, and kisses her back.