Woolly lit up the second I touched her planks, fear and worry and dread blazing through our connection. Guilt that I hadn’t come home the previous night weighed me down, but seeing Amelie after Boaz made his big announcement would have shattered me when I had already been too close to breaking.
One night later, I wasn’t in much better shape, but I could speak without tears garbling my words. Maybe.
Aware of Amelie drifting through the house like a specter, I selected the front porch swing for the chat and sat, waiting until Woolly had gathered all her awareness to that point to begin.
“I’ve got some bad news, girl.”
The boards groaned beneath my feet.
“I know how much you love Boaz. I love him too.” Though now I would never get a chance to be in love with him. “But I need to not see him for a while.”
The light above the door flared in question.
There was nothing for it but to put it all out there. “He’s engaged.”
The bulb shattered, pieces raining down onto the planks.
“His family needs him to marry well for them to save face after Amelie.”
More tiny explosions, more glass tinkling as it hit and skittered.
Carving out my heart would hurt less than admitting, “He’s doing the right thing for the Pritchards.” The window beside me bowed, ready to crack, but I pressed my palm against the pane. “You can’t hurt yourself over this. He’s not worth it.”
Face paler than usual, Oscar materialized at my eye level. “What’s wrong with Woolly?”
The wards, that constant melody playing in my head when I was home these days, turned into a jumble of discordant notes, a primal screech of agony voiced the only way she knew how.
“One of her friends let her down,” I told him. “She’s upset, but she’ll be okay.”
“I’m her friend.” He puffed out his chest. “I won’t ever let her down.”
“I know you won’t, kiddo.” I ruffled his hair. “We need a minute alone. Girl stuff. I’ll be up to tuck you in in a little bit.”
After casting the house one last worried glance, he walked through a wall and vanished.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, stroking the siding in the hopes it might calm her. “He told me last night. That’s why I stayed in the carriage house. I couldn’t…” I sucked in a breath. “I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t face Amelie. Not when it hurt so much.”
Given a target for her anger, the point of her consciousness arrowed toward Amelie. A surge of magic that made the hairs on my nape tingle struck her, encapsulated her, then expelled her out onto the porch with me. Woolly shoved and shoved until Amelie stumbled down the steps, her wide eyes seeking me out as she clung to the railing that Woolly turned into coiled snakes with rusty metal fangs, ready to strike out if she touched her again.
“I can’t leave the house,” Amelie pleaded. “The sentinels will come for me. I can’t go back.”
“Woolly, stop.” I leaned my forehead against the cool metal chain suspending the swing. “Listen to me.”
The pressure on Amelie didn’t bow outward again, but neither did it release.
“I spoke to the Grande Dame tonight. She agreed to let Amelie move into the carriage house.”
Amelie paled. “But Linus—”
“I want Linus to move in with us,” I told the old house, ignoring Amelie. “We’re responsible for them both, and right now he’s what I need.” Thinking of Neely and the likelihood Cruz would ever let me see him again, I admitted, “He’s the only friend I’ve got right now.”
“Grier…” Amelie bumped against the barrier when she tried to reach me. “I’m your friend.”
“No, you’re really not.” I straightened and faced her. “You knew what he was planning. This whole time, he was confiding in you. You should have told me. You promised you would always pick me if things went south, and you lied. You chose him.” A lightning bolt of comprehension struck me. “That’s why you’ve been so weird around Odette. You were afraid she would glimpse the truth and out you both.”
“He’s all the family I’ve got left,” she whispered, not bothering to deny it. “I can’t lose him too.”
“I get that. Things have changed since you made that promise. Everything has changed.” I blinked until my vision cleared. “That’s why I asked permission to relocate you when it would be so much easier to hand you over to them.” I checked with Woolly before telling Amelie in no uncertain terms, “Boaz is no longer welcome in this house. The only way you’ll see him while you’re serving out your indenture is if you take the carriage house.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“I get that a lot,” I said on a watery laugh.
“After Maud died—”
“You and me? We’re not going there again. You can’t base your life choices on what happened to me.”
“You don’t understand what it was like,” she protested.
“You’re right.” I let my anger off its leash. “I can’t imagine how it must have felt to stay at home, with my family—who are all safe—and keep living my life the way I chose.” I tasted metal and realized I had bitten my cheek to hold back after all. “I don’t doubt you thought about me, I don’t doubt that you hurt for me, but you can’t use my past as a crutch to lean on every time you make a bad judgment call.”
“I wanted to protect you,” she pleaded. “That’s all I ever wanted.”
Meiko’s warning rang in my ears: There’s nothing wrong with lying until you start telling them to yourself.
“You made a grab for power that almost killed me.” It had cost several vampires their lives, and it was past time she owned her truth. “This? This hurts worse than that. This feels like someone punched through my ribs, fisted my heart, and squished it to a bloody pulp.” I worked my jaw. “I’m not saying a heads-up would have made this hurt any less, but it would have given me someone to lean on, a shoulder to cry on. You should have been the one to hold me when I broke apart, not Linus.”
“You can’t trust him,” she protested. “He’s the Grande Dame’s son.”
“The thing I’ve learned about Linus is no one trusts him. Everyone doubts his motives. His actions are examined under a microscope, his every word dissected. No one believes there’s any good in him. They all see him as the Grande Dame’s son or the Lawson Scion or the Potentate of Atlanta.” So many masks, I was sure I had forgotten a few of them. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m guilty too. I have a hard time trusting anyone, believing in anything, but I like to think I’ve earned my paranoia.”
Tears slid unchecked down her cheeks, glistening in the moonlight as she listened without protest.
“Do you know who has been there for me every single time I needed someone? Not my best friend. Not my almost-boyfriend. Linus.” It hurt looking at her, so I stared over her head. “Is he in his mother’s pocket? I don’t know. Had you asked me the same question about Boaz last week, I would have said hell no. But I would have been wrong. Goddess knows, I’m tired of being wrong. I’m tired period. The people I’ve trusted most of my life have betrayed me. How can he possibly do any worse?”
“You’re right.” She wiped her cheeks dry. “We should have done better by you. I should have done better. You are—were—my best friend, and I wasn’t there for you. I let you walk into this when I should have walked through it with you. I put my needs, and my brother’s, above yours.” She pressed her palm against the barrier. “I’ll go upstairs and pack my things, if you let me, Woolly.”
The old house didn’t budge.
“Woolly, Linus and I need a couple of days to clear out the carriage house. She must stay with us until then. We have no choice.”
The nearest window exploded in a fit of pique, the shards falling harmlessly to the porch when she could have shredded Amelie to ribbons with them. Lowering the barrier, she frog-marched Amelie into the foyer, but Amelie fought her there.
“I’m starting to understand,” she whispered, “the burden of someone loving you too much.”
“You’re getting a second chance,” I countered, fresh out of sympathy for the night. “Don’t waste it.”