“That man has a right to mourn his son,” Daniel persisted.
“So you’re not even gonna thank me for taking the heat off you?” Penn pretended to pout and stared up at him.
“Are you kidding me?” Daniel was nearly shouting. He hadn’t been so close to smacking Penn in a very long time. “You’re the reason the heat is on me. You’re the one that got Aiden killed and dragged me in to help clean up the mess.”
“I didn’t kill him. Liv did.”
“Liv is your fault,” he told her. “You made her. Everything she does is because of you.”
“Whatever.” She gave a half shrug and tossed her hair. “The sooner we go through with our plan, the sooner I’ll get rid of Liv. Just like you wanted.” She leaned forward, her smile growing hungrier. “Why don’t we go out to your place right now?”
“Not tonight,” he said firmly.
“Why the hell not?” Penn snapped, and her smile instantly dropped. “Like you have anything better going on?”
“I need to get some things in order first.”
“Like what?” Penn demanded to know.
It would have been nice if he had a few more days to get what was left in his life sorted out, but that wasn’t the real reason he was stalling. According to her text message, Gemma thought she was really close to breaking the curse, and this would all be over. If Daniel could get out of this without sleeping with Penn, that would be amazing.
“They’re my things, Penn. All right? Don’t worry about it.”
“Then when?” she asked.
“A few more days.” He had to give her some kind of answer, and that ought to buy him enough time. Hopefully.
She scoffed. “That’ll almost be the full moon.”
“Why don’t we wait until after the full moon then?” Daniel suggested. “It’ll be easier for everyone.”
“I don’t think I can wait that long,” Penn whined.
He looked over at her. “I’m giving you forever. That’s what you’ve asked me for, and I’ll do it. Just give me a few more days.”
“Whatever. You need to hurry up and go through with this before I change my mind. You saw what Liv is capable of, but what she can do is nothing compared to what I have in store for you if you betray me.” With that, Penn got up and sauntered off, leaving him alone with Alex, who was giving him the strangest look.
“What was all that about?” Alex asked.
Daniel had finished his beer, so he stood up to get another one. “It’s way too much to get into right now.”
“Are you like … with Penn or something?”
“No, no, hell no.” He shook his head. “I love Harper. And I’ll do anything for her, even if it means losing her.”
THIRTY-TWO
Disavowal
The room smelled of violet—not the flower, but the color. That didn’t make any sense, not even to Gemma, who’d come to accept oddities more readily, but there really wasn’t anyway else to describe it. It was a rich, almost velvety scent, and when she closed her eyes, all she could see was amethyst.
Since the gods and goddesses had slowly been picked off the last several centuries, Diana assumed that every supernatural being who tracked her down planned to torture and kill her, and she’d instantly pegged Gemma as something more than human.
Once Lydia had convinced Diana that none of them meant her any harm, the older woman had led them to a small sitting room at the back of the flower shop, so they could talk. Lydia had instantly gone to the shelves, excitedly but carefully admiring all of Diana’s collection.
It was filled with so many antiquities—books, statues, art, tools, musical instruments. The collection appeared to have begun with the dawn of time. Despite the number of things in such a small space, the room didn’t feel cluttered. Everything had its own spot, carefully displayed on the shelves that lined the walls.
Gemma sat on a lush velvet settee next to Harper, while Diana poured them tea. Gemma had tried to decline, but Diana insisted that she needed some. While there was plenty of room to sit next to Harper, Marcy had chosen to sit cross-legged on the floor by the window, where a fat, fluffy Siamese cat basked in the sun.
When Diana returned carrying a tea tray, Harper stood up to help her, but Diana shooed her away, insisting she had it herself, and set the tray down on an elegant coffee table in front of the settee.
Gemma would’ve offered to help, but the watersong was reaching a level of unbearable pain. It buzzed in her left ear—the side facing the East Coast—and the vision in her left eye had begun to blur.
“I see you’ve made friends with Thallo,” Diana said to Marcy as she made herself comfortable in her high-backed chair across from the settee. “She’s always been a lover. Her sister, Carpo, is much happier watching us than making friends, I’m afraid.”
A thin Siamese cat posted at the top of a bookshelf meowed at the sound of her name, and Gemma glanced back up at her.