19
You put them in a glass room? Can’t you give them a little privacy?” I stared at my parents through the wall. Although comfortably furnished with rugs, a bed, a sofa, a small table, and two chairs, the room was made of the same kind of glass as Ryodan’s office, only in reverse. Mom and Dad couldn’t see out, but everyone else could see in.
I glanced to the left. The shower had an enclosure of sorts; the toilet didn’t. “Do they know people can see in?”
“I spare their lives and you ask for privacy. This isn’t for you. Or them. It’s insurance for me,” Ryodan said.
Barrons joined us. “I told Fade to bring up sheets and duct tape.”
“For what?” I was horrified. Were they going to roll my parents up in sheets and duct-tape them?
“They can tape sheets to the walls.”
“Oh,” I said. “Thanks,” I muttered. I was silent a moment, watching them through the glass. Dad was sitting on the sofa, facing my mom, holding her hands, talking softly. He was robust and handsome as ever, and the extra silver in his hair only made him look more distinguished. Mom had that glazed look she got whenever she couldn’t deal, and I knew he was probably talking about normal, everyday things to ground her in a reality she could face. I had no doubt he was assuring her everything was going to be okay, because that was what Jack Lane did: exuded safety and security, made you believe he could deliver on anything he promised. It was what made him such a great lawyer, such a wonderful father. No obstacle had ever seemed too large, no threat too scary with Daddy around. “I need to talk to them.”
“No,” Ryodan said.
“Why?” Barrons demanded.
I hesitated. I’d never told Barrons that I’d gone to Ashford with V’lane, or admitted that I’d overheard a conversation between my parents in which they’d been discussing the circumstances of our adoption, or that Daddy had mentioned a prophecy about me—one in which I supposedly ended up dooming the whole world.
Nana O’Reilly—the ninety-seven-year-old woman whom Kat and I visited in her house by the sea—had mentioned two prophecies: one that promised hope, the other warning of a blight upon the earth. If I genuinely was part of either one, I was determined to fulfill the former. I wanted to know more about the latter so I could avoid it.
I wanted the names of the people Daddy had spoken to all those years ago when he’d gone to Ireland to dig into Alina’s medical history when she was sick. I wanted to know exactly what they’d told him.
But there was no way I could ask him about any of it in front of Barrons and Ryodan. If they got the smallest whiff of some prophecy in which I supposedly doomed the world, they might just lock me up and throw away the key.
“I miss them. They need to know I’m alive.”
“They know. I videoed you walking in, and Barrons showed them the clip.” Ryodan paused, then added, “Jack insisted on it.”
I glanced sharply at Ryodan. Was that a faint smile on his face? He liked my father. I’d heard it in his voice when he called him Jack. He respected him. I glowed inside. I’m always proud of my daddy, but when somebody like Ryodan likes him … Even though I couldn’t stand the owner of Chester’s, I took it as a compliment.
“Too bad you’re not really his daughter. He comes from strong blood.”
I gave him a look I learned from Barrons.
“But nobody’s sure exactly where you came from, are they, Mac?”
“My biological mother was Isla O’Connor, leader of the Haven for the sidhe-seers,” I informed him coolly.
“Really? Because I did some digging when Barrons told me what the O’Reilly woman said, and it turns out Isla had only one child, not two. Her name was Alina. And she’s dead.”
“Obviously you didn’t dig deep enough,” I retorted. But I suddenly felt uneasy. So that was why Nana had called me Alina. “She must have had me later. Nana just didn’t know about it.”
“Isla was the only member of the Haven who survived the night the Sinsar Dubh was set free from its prison.”
“Where are you getting your information?” I demanded.
“And there was no ‘later’ for her.”
“How do you know that? What do you know about my mother, Ryodan?”
Ryodan glanced at Barrons. The look they exchanged spoke volumes, but unfortunately I had no idea what language they were speaking.
I glared at Barrons. “And you wonder why I don’t confide in you? You don’t tell me anything.”
“Leave it alone. I’m handling this,” Barrons told Ryodan.
“I suggest you do a better job.”
“And I suggest you go fuck yourself.”
“She didn’t tell you that the Book visited her the other night at Darroc’s. It skims her mind, picks up her thoughts.”
“I think it only picks up the surface ones,” I said hastily. “Not everything.”
“It killed Darroc because it learned from her that he knew a shortcut. Wonder what else it learned.”
Barrons’ head whipped around and he stared at me. You said nothing of this to me?
You said nothing to me about my mother? What do you know about her? About me?
His dark gaze promised retribution for my oversight.
So did mine.
I hated this. Barrons and I were enemies. It confused my head and hurt my heart. I’d grieved him as if I’d lost the only person who mattered to me, and now here we were, adversaries again. Were we destined to be eternal enemies?
One of us is going to have to trust the other, I told him.
You first, Ms. Lane.
That was the whole problem. Neither of us would take the risk. I had a lengthy list of reasons why I shouldn’t, and they were sound. My daddy could take the case all the way to the Supreme Court, arguing my side. Barrons didn’t inspire trust. He didn’t even bother trying.
When hell freezes over, Barrons.
Same bloody page, Ms. Lane. Same bloody—
I turned my gaze away in the middle of his sentence, the ocular equivalent of flipping him the bird.
Ryodan was watching us, hard.
“Butt out,” I warned. “This is between him and me. All you need to do is keep my parents safe and—”
“Little hard to do when you’re such a fucking loose cannon.”