“So, I’ll see you at the pub, okay?” But she didn’t answer, and I slid out the door, feeling like this was all my fault. I don’t know. Maybe it was.
I was still in a funk when I reached Zane’s, then felt even more guilty because I had actually considered simply leaving my sister there with him. But she was my responsibility, demon warts and all, and even on a day when I wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and moan about the sorry state of my life, I had to at least put on a responsible face.
A lesson in parenting that my stepfather had never understood.
It was late when I arrived, and I found Zane up, doing some sort of slow martial arts moves on the mat in the middle of the basement. He saw me, and even as he balanced on one foot, he held his finger to his lips, warning me that she was asleep. I nodded, then stood to the side, waiting for him to finish. When he did, he came toward me, glistening with sweat.
“Where’s Kiera?”
“She is well,” he said. “I sent her home.”
“Oh.” I actually hadn’t thought of her as having a home and felt a little bit foolish.
“What has happened, ma fleur?”
“Rachel,” I said. I dragged my fingers through my hair, then sat on the floor, my back to the gray weapons cabinet. I licked my lips, choosing my words carefully, but needing to say what was on my mind. “She chose a side, Zane, and she was punished for it.”
“I see. And which side did she choose?”
“The right one.” I watched his face, searching for a clue as to his true allegiance.
“It is hard sometimes,” he said. “To choose. There is always a price to pay.”
“Did you make a choice?” I asked, softly.
He stood, then moved away from me. “I did not,” he said. “Perhaps I should have.”
I swallowed, the import of what he’d just revealed to me striking home. He hadn’t chosen. Not right. Not wrong. “And now?”
He turned back to face me. “Now I think only of myself.” He lifted his head to look at me directly. “I’ve told you my story, Lily, and it’s a selfish one.”
“What about Kiera?” I asked, blurting out the question before I had considered my words. “Do you think she’s . . .” I trailed off, wanting to ask out loud, but I couldn’t. Instead I backtracked. “Do you think she’s a good partner for me?”
He met my eyes, his expression shuttered. “I think she has your back.”
“That’s not really what I meant.”
He stood up. “Yes,” he said. “I think she is a fine partner.”
“Good.” I stood up, knowing I should just take Rose and go. But I was still antsy. “Rachel’s going to be okay, but she was beaten pretty badly. And all because she wanted to get free.”
He looked at me, his eyes seeing more than I wanted. “It can be hard to give up the dark once it gets inside you. Once it starts to fill those spaces.”
I felt the tears flood my eyes and wanted to sink into the floor, the weight of his words pressing me down. I’d never be able to give up the dark, no matter how much I wanted to pretend otherwise. I wasn’t a normal girl anymore, and even the most fervent wishes wouldn’t bring back my old life.
“Rachel will survive, Lily,” he said, pulling me close. “And so will you. Survival,” he added. “I fear it is what we do best.”
TWENTY
“Just fold and roll,” I said to Rose, putting a knife and fork in a napkin and demonstrating how to wrap the silverware service. “If you can do all of these, that’ll be a huge help.”
She nodded and started in on it, looking like nothing more than a kid working in the family business. Nothing to suggest she was a kid with a demon inside her. Nothing, that was, except for the pallor of her skin and the way her pupils stayed overly dilated. And, of course, the haunted way she looked at me when I’d asked that morning if Johnson was still there.
“He’s here to stay, Lily,” she’d said in that slow, singsong voice. “I thought you knew that.”
“Not to stay,” I’d said, a note of panic rising. “He’s not staying.”
But she hadn’t answered. She’d just turned back into the bathroom and lost herself in the shower.
Now, though, even that dreamy interchange seemed like history. She was awake. She was alert.
She was Rose.
I fingered the locket I wore around my neck, a souvenir of my life as Lily, with pictures of both me and Rose. And as I touched it, I couldn’t help but wonder how long before the other shoe dropped.
The hour was still early, so we had only a smattering of patrons in the pub. Just the few diehards who came in for a prelunch half-pint to warm them up for their lunchtime pint. Rachel had been here when I’d arrived, but she’d managed to avoid me all morning, moving to the kitchen or the stockroom or the walk-in whenever I got within five feet of her.