“So the anonymous donor . . .”
“There was no anonymous donor. There was an offer, a fae who offered me the one thing I wanted more than anything,” she said softly. “I couldn’t conceive, despite science. I didn’t have a partner either. When I was offered a chance to be a mother . . . I accepted.”
“You willingly slept with a fae-blood then.”
“No,” she corrected. “I slept with one of the true fae. The faery who fathered you was not able to pass as human. He had no desire to bed a woman—fae or human—but he wanted a child. We both wanted a child.”
Will nodded. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He had heard Zephyr explain that they were “modern changelings,” that instead of leaving behind sick faery babies in exchange for stealing healthy human children as the fae once had, the fae had left strong fae children behind in order to be raised in this world to fight for their true families. There was no way, though, that Zephyr’s explanation made sense. Will knew that his mother was truly his biological mother. That meant that it was likely that Zephyr was either lying to them or believing in a lie he’d been told. His mother had just given Will proof of his own suspicions about his heritage.
“Do you ever hear from him . . . my father, I mean . . .”
She shook her head, and then, in a very tentative tone, she asked, “Have you?”
Will shook his head.
“So you’re not out . . . doing things for him?”
“Things?” Will prompted.
“If you are a fae sympathizer, if you are out working for t—”
“Do you love me?” he interrupted. “Even though I’m not all human, do you love me?”
“Of course I do! I chose to have you. I knew exactly what that meant.” She scowled at him with the same ferocity he’d seen when she was arguing one of the causes she most loved. “You’re why I support all those eco-acts. It’s to give you a healthier world. That’s what fae need. The cooks who are instructed about your ‘allergies,’ the house with purified air, the trips . . . It’s not like there are books on ‘How to Raise Your Not Quite Human Child.’” Her voice lowered at the end, as if even here there could be someone listening. “I’m trying to do what I can to take care of you because I love you.”
He nodded. It was good to hear.
“You made a bargain with a faery, Mom. That never comes without a price.” He paused and looked at her. “I pay the price.”
Her hand flew up to cover her mouth.
He sighed. His mother was tough, fierce, implacable . . . all things that she didn’t appear to be tonight. He closed the distance between them and pulled her into a tight hug. “I love you too. Just . . . don’t ask questions, okay?”
“Are you hur—”
“I’m as fine as I can be,” he assured her. “Just stay you. Stay the way we’ve always been, and we will pretend that neither of us knows what was said here.”
She nodded.
Will let go and stepped away. He was halfway up the steps when she added, “I’m not sorry. No matter what, I’m not sorry I said yes to him that night. I’m proud to be your mom.”
And he wanted to say he understood, to say he forgave her, but the truth was that she wasn’t the one paying the cost of the deal she’d made. She wasn’t the one who had left bodies on the ground on the orders of the Queen of Blood and Rage. She wasn’t the one with bloodied hands.
She wouldn’t be the one to be imprisoned for life simply for existing.
He had to pay for simply being born. Murder, death, or imprisonment, those were the choices. As abhorrent as murder was, it was the only option that let him have some semblance of a life.
The phone in Violet’s room trilled, pulling him out of his memories. The front desk called up to let them know that his ride to the airport was waiting.
“You know Creed talks to one of them,” Will said quietly, his mind still on his own biological father. “The true fae, I mean.”
“How?” Violet shoved her suitcase aside forcefully. “We’re not to go there, have contact . . . what is he thinking?”
“Creed does what he wants, always has.” Will shrugged.
“I’m guessing Zephyr has no idea, then?”
Will gave her a look. Zephyr was a good guy, so was Creed, but the two had been at odds for years. Will couldn’t say he thought either of their approaches to dealing with the fae were exactly wise, but his answer—keep his own counsel and avoid the politics of any sort—wasn’t necessarily better. It just worked for him.
“It’s like they think we’re animals, you know? Mangy dogs they train and put in pits to fight . . . except we fight humans who don’t even know. It’s . . . argh.” Violet’s temper simmered enough that her skin was throwing sparks.
Will walked over to her. “We all cope in our own ways, Vi. That’s what you just said a few minutes ago, right? Creed does whatever it is that he’s doing. Zeph follows orders. We all find ways to be okay with being Sleepers.”
“Do you know what Creed’s doing though? Who he’s talk—”
“No. I just know that there is someone there that Creed meets, and if something happened to me . . . I wanted someone else to know too.” Will wasn’t sure why Creed spoke to them, or why he kept it from Zephyr, or anything beyond the simple truth: they might be a team, but every last one of them kept secrets from at least some of the others.
“You could tell Roan,” Violet suggested.
“I told you instead.” Will hugged Violet, kissed her cheek, and stepped back. “I’ll see you at school, okay?”
She nodded. “Don’t tell the others that I’m probably coming back early after all or—”
“Vi,” he said, cutting her off. “I’ll see you when you get there.”
And then he left. She was okay, as okay as any of them were, and that’s what he’d needed to know. They kept their secrets to protect themselves and to protect each other. One of these days, though, one of their secrets was going to be too much.
fifteen
LILY
After Lily had left the garden, and Creed, she walked back to the office where the headmistress was. Hector said nothing when she walked in, but he did reach out and pluck the bit of hedge that was caught in her hair. She’d left it there on purpose, a statement verifying where she was. It was a lesson her father had taught her: provide clues to prove the theory you want people to believe. It helped hide the truth. She had been in the garden. No one needed to know that she’d met Creed there. No one needed to know that she’d revealed her heritage or that they’d made fae vows that they meant no harm to each other.
Hector held the tiny piece of greenery out to her. “I see you found the gardens.”
She took the tiny branch. “They’re perfect.”