By the time she answers, her voice is as smooth as ever, and I want to claw her eyes out. “I wondered if he’d tell you.”
“Is that why you’re here?” I ask. “To figure out how many of your secrets I uncovered?”
“No. I came to help my daughter.”
“Help me? YOU LET RAIDEN TAKE ME!”
I tear away from Vane, grabbing my mother by her shoulders. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? What he did to me?”
Vane’s strangled choke makes me regret the words, but it’s too late to take them back.
“Stay away from me,” I tell my mother. “I’ve had enough of your help.”
I only mean to shove her away.
But I’m not used to my new strength.
My mother flies backward, crashing into one of the trees with a crunch that sounds like breaking bone.
I don’t check to see how badly she’s hurt.
I don’t wonder about the red that splatters the snow.
I let Vane wrap his arms around me and lead me away, telling myself I’m finally free of her.
CHAPTER 37
VANE
I have no idea how badly Arella’s injured—but I can’t deal with it right now.
We have to get out of the wind—and Audra and I both need to get away from the blood.
So I leave Aston to clean up, and lead Audra over to the hotel.
Solana’s waiting for us outside the main doors.
I . . . sorta forgot about her.
I feel even crappier when I see her eyes are puffy from crying.
Gus’s death is a huge blow for her, too—he’s the whole reason she agreed to help me.
I offer her my free arm as an apology, and after a second, she takes it, leaning against my shoulder as the three of us make our way into the lobby.
The place is huge—arched ceilings and dangling chandeliers. Music plays softly in the background, and it smells like flowers and money. But what throws me is the mass of people. Hundreds of them, crowding around the scattered furniture.
And of course chaos erupts when they notice the three bleeding teenagers.
They all shout on top of one another and hustle us to one of the couches.
A guy in a stuffy blazer drops to his knees beside us and starts asking ten thousand questions. I thought he might be a doctor, but he sounds more like the hotel’s manager.
He seems to think we’re hikers who got caught in the storm.
I don’t bother correcting him. It’s not like I can tell him we escaped from a sylph fortress and have an army of wind warriors trying to kill us.
“I’d call for an ambulance,” he says, “but we’re snowed in. Have been for days.”
That explains why there’s such a huge crowd in the lobby. I bet everyone’s freaking out, wondering when they’ll get home.
“That’s fine,” I tell him, since it’s not like we can take human medicine anyway. “We just need a first aid kit.”
“And maybe some clean clothes, if you have them,” Solana adds.
His eyes narrow at my leg, and I notice it’s dripping blood on their fancy rug.
“Sorry,” I mumble, covering the puddle with my shoe. “It looks worse than it is.”
“I hope so.” He turns to a girl wearing a shiny vest and a bow tie, who looks like she couldn’t possibly hate her job any more. “Can you help them to the bathrooms? I’ll meet you there with the first aid kit, and anything else I can find.”
She nods, but stares at us like she’s just been asked to defuse a bomb. “Can you guys walk or . . . ?”
I nod, and help Solana and Audra to their feet. “Just show us which way.”
The crowd parts as she tells us to follow her, and our footsteps sound too loud on the marble floor.
I notice a bunch of kids hiding their faces as we pass, and they look even more terrified when I try to smile at them.
Vest Girl heads for the ladies’ room, and doesn’t stop me when I go in with them. I set Audra on the chair—since when do bathrooms have chairs?—and she stares blankly into space.
“The paper towels are over there,” Vest Girl says, pointing to the counter. “And soap is by the sinks. And, um . . . yeah.”
“You don’t have to stay,” I tell her, when she stands there shuffling her feet. “I’m sure this isn’t going to be pretty.”
I hike up my pant leg and show her the oozing cut from the Shredder. The one on my shoulder is worse. I can feel it dripping down my back.
“Ouch,” she whispers. “Did you get attacked by a moose?”
“A moose?”
“Moose can be mean,” she explains.
There’s a joke there somewhere. But I don’t have the energy to make it.
She leaves us then, and I hobble over to a sink, catching my first glimpse of myself in the mirror. Between the mud and the blood and the red-rimmed eyes, I definitely get why the kids were hiding from zombie-Vane.
Solana looks almost as bad as she limps up beside me. She’s covered in scratches and bruises, and her leg wound has started bleeding again.
“Here,” I say, soaking a paper towel and handing it to her.
She takes it and crouches down, using it to clean the cut on my leg.
Shame burns my cheeks. “I didn’t mean for you to take care of me.”