"Do you think I was wrong?"
He thought for a moment. "That's not for me to say. I don't judge others, lest I be judged in like. We've all done things that could be considered wrong to others that were right for us to do. You are the only person who can say if what you did was just and right. None other can judge you."
I shifted in my chair, my head spinning from the drink. "What do I do about Rose?"
"Did you ask her what she learned about Ryder? Have you considered getting to know the man you killed?"
"Why?" I really didn't want to know him anymore than I already did.
"Because you might find he is more like you than you realize. I think Rose just wants you to see the whole picture, to gain a deeper understanding of the person you sentenced to death. To think past revenge."
I left Father Patrick's room more confused than when I'd entered. I didn't want to get to know Ryder. I'd find a different way of winning Rose back.
I started with flowers picked from the back garden and made a trip to the kitchen to see if our chef, Greta, had any of her gourmet chocolates in stock.
The portly chef stood with her back to me, facing the stove as she stirred something in a giant pot and hummed an unfamiliar and haunting tune in a rich alto.
"Greta?"
She turned, smiling wide, her white teeth bright against her dark brown skin. "Derek! How lovely you here." She waved a spatula at me dripping with a red sauce. "Tonight we dine on special Indian recipe passed down through family."
"Sounds wonderful." Greta was new to our school, and brought with her a paranormal ability that made her an exquisite cook. She'd quickly become one of the favorites in the school, winning each of us over from the first bite.
She squinted at me, her dark eyes narrowing. "But you no here for tasty? You need something else, yes?"
I nodded, and was about to speak, when she spotted my flowers.
"Ah, you in trouble with wifey, yes? Greta make it right." She bustled around the kitchen, pulling out a small red tin and filling it with chocolates from her secret stash behind the spices. Everyone knew about her secret stash, but if she ever noticed her chocolates missing, she never said.
She sealed the tin and handed it to me. "You go say sorry, you hear?"
I scoffed. "How do you know I was the one at fault?"
To that she grinned knowingly, kissed my cheek and bustled me out of the kitchen. "You the man and that Rose of yours, she no mess up. Now shoo! I have cook to make."
I shooed, heading straight to my little cabin at the edge of the woods, hoping Rose would be there and be happy to see me.
Rose looked down at the chocolates, and I could tell she wanted one badly, but she covered the tin and set it on the kitchen counter, then put the flowers in a vase and set them aside, all in a soft silence that nearly broke me.
"Rose, please, I hate fighting with you." I pulled her into my arms and kissed her deeply, but she pulled away, her face a vision of conflict.
"I hate it too, Derek, but flowers and chocolates and kisses can't fix this one. We need to talk. I need you to understand my point of view."
My temper rose again. "To understand it, or agree with it?"
She scowled at me. "Obviously I'd love for you to agree with me, but for now I'd settle for genuine understanding. You're not willing to do that."
"I do understand, I just don't agree." I folded my arms over my chest.
"No, you don't. You don't want to understand because you're afraid if you do, if you allow yourself to truly hear me, to truly understand more about Ryder, then you'll have to face what you did, and that terrifies you."
FOUR
A Weapon
SAM
Behold, I have a weapon;
A better never did itself sustain
Upon a soldier's thigh:
— William Shakespeare, Othello
RELATIONSHIPS ARE COMPLICATED things. We are inextricably tied to another human being, through love, through need, through desire, and yet there always remains a distance. We can never be as close as we may want, as connected as we may feel.
I could read my husband's mind, something most people can't say. And yet, even I didn't know how to reach him. Drake had been avoiding me since he woke up transformed into Nephilim and had bitten me.
I covered my hand over the spot on my neck, now fully healed, and took a deep breath. That all ended tonight.
I lit the last candle, our bedroom now alight with hundreds of flickering flames. Rose petals had been sprinkled over our bed, a trail leading Drake from the front door to here.
My red lingerie curved and cupped my body perfectly, and I'd let my long dark hair hang down my back in shiny waves and applied make-up for the first time in a long time. Being a mom didn't always allow for dress-up but with Luke and Lucy in town I had built-in babysitters, and they agreed eagerly to keep Ana for the night so I could fix things with my husband.
The music seemed too loud, so I turned it down just as the front door opened. Drake would see a path made of candles and rose petals leading to me.