The vampire dropped onto the cushion next to me. He didn’t seem to notice that he’d sat right on one of Matthew’s toys. “Well, I don’t have a car, do I?” Gil groused. “And there’s no such thing as Uber in this godforsaken town.”
“You just can’t stay away, can you?” I teased.
He’d finally noticed the toy. Gil twisted around, searching for it. His shoulder brushed mine. The instant our bodies made contact, I saw some of the tension visibly leave him. It was the bond, I realized, watching the lines of his face relax, too. The bond made it difficult to have distance between us. Days ago, Gil had felt nothing for me, a complete stranger. Now, regardless of how he probably wanted to feel, he was most at ease whenever we were together.
It was wrong.
Finn was still resting on the floor nearby. He watched the two of us intently.
“What did you do today?” I asked the wolf, resisting the urge to prod him with my foot. No matter how close I felt with Finn, I always strove to remember there was a person buried under all that fur. I wanted to ask if he’d been watching Amy again.
“I swear to God, sometimes it seems as if he actually understands you,” Danny remarked.
At this, I darted a glance toward Damon. I’d never directly asked how much his boyfriend knew—about Finn, about Fallen, all of it—but Danny’s comment was proof that he was completely in the dark.
“So what movie are we going to watch?” I asked abruptly. Damon shot me a grateful look.
Since Matthew was here, we decided on How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Gil got up to dim the lights, and Hello let out a pitiful mewl. Damon tucked his arm around Danny while Danny covered their legs with a blanket. Credits started on the screen.
“Yeah, I see how you’re looking at them,” Gil said in my ear. He’d come back without making a sound. “Don’t go getting any ideas. If you try to cuddle me, I’ll eat you.”
My mouth twitched, and I knocked him away with my shoulder. Then I thought of Finn. Worried he’d take Gil’s words literally, I glanced toward the werewolf. When I saw he was fast asleep, I relaxed and returned my attention to the TV. Hello tucked herself between me and Gil. I stroked her back while he scratched her chin.
Drawn by all the music and sound, Nym slipped out of his room to join us. He sat on the floor and clasped his boney knee, resting his spine against the base of the couch. Seeing the childlike expression on the faerie’s face, I wondered if he hadn’t seen many movies. As this one went on, I found myself watching him more than the screen.
At one point, Hello started purring. The vibrations traveled through me and soothed whatever worry had been lingering in my heart. Sitting there, surrounded by people I cared about and trusted, I almost felt… happy. This was the life I wanted. This was the future worth fighting for. I looked at the faces around me again and made a soft sound that no one but Finn seemed to hear. His eyes cracked open, then slid right back shut. He released a sound similar to the one I’d just let out, and I smiled.
As the minutes ticked past, I toyed with the idea of texting Laurie or Collith. The fact I didn’t know which one to choose kept me from reaching for my phone. But then an alarm went off, and I snatched it up anyway.
Damon glanced at me with a question in his eyes. Is everything okay?
I nodded and smiled, but I was distracted. Then, annoyed—there was an event on my calendar. It was misspelled, which further supported the theory that I’d made the appointment last night. Consuelo had an online booking system, I remembered suddenly.
Sometime after my confrontation with Collith in the alley, I’d scheduled an emergency therapy session.
My first instinct was to cancel it, but it was too late now. I wouldn’t even have time to shower. Muffling a curse, I leaned over and murmured an explanation to Damon, knowing the others would hear, too. As soon as I uttered the word therapist, my brother exuded relief. He didn’t utter a single protest when I got up.
Moving with slow reluctance, I walked over to the stairs. I shoved my feet into a pair of boots, removed my coat from one of the hooks, and pulled it on. Keys jangled in the right pocket.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” I called from the doorway, hoping one of them would give me an excuse not to go.
“Love you,” Damon replied without looking away from the TV. He said the words absently.
Finn. Finn would save me. I turned toward the fireplace. Matthew had fallen asleep against Finn’s stomach—none of us had bothered taking him to bed, since he was safer with the werewolf than he’d ever be in a crib—and the expression on my friend’s furry face said he wasn’t moving for the world. But as I stood there, his bright gaze dropped to my fingers, checking for the goblin ring. Reassured, Finn put his big head back down on the floor, closed his eyes, and heaved a contented sigh.
No one could be depended on these days. Sighing, I trudged down the stairs and out to the van.
Music exploded from the speakers, just how I liked it, but I didn’t hear it tonight. I was too nervous. I put Consuelo’s address into a GPS app and turned in the direction of Denver, my headlights beaming onto a frozen, empty road.
Then, in the blink of an eye, I was back in that pretty house, facing Consuelo across a pretty room. We sat in the same spots we’d occupied during our last session. I looked around at the beige walls, trickling fountain, and floral rug. There were also two plush couches and one oil painting of a meadow. A solitary figure stood in the middle of that meadow, more of a dark smear than a person.
“What would you like to talk about today?” Consuelo asked. She wore a button-down blouse and a knotted headwrap made out of cambaya fabric. Like last time, the human’s legs were crossed, and she’d rested a notepad against her knees.
I scratched my cheek, hesitating. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me what we talk about?”
“This is your therapy journey,” she countered. “You get to decide where it leads.”
I didn’t like that—it created too many possibilities. There was so much Consuelo didn’t know, and countless things I couldn’t tell her. Secrets I didn’t want to tell her. Sure, let’s talk about my parents’ brutal murders. Or how about the person I visit in my dreams every night? Oh, I know, can we explore the fact that I was tortured by a demon-possessed faerie for weeks, and I still haven’t really thought about it?
“I’ve been drinking,” I said quickly.
The therapist’s face didn’t change. “Are you getting drunk when you drink?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Almost every night since I got home.”
“Why?”
“Actually, can we talk about something else, please?” I strove to phrase the question politely, but it came out sounding strained. As if there were someone sitting next to me, pressing their thumb into one of the bruises on my arm. Worried I’d offended her, I gave Consuelo a thin smile. “I know that I was the one to bring it up. Sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. How are things with your brother?” she asked me, throwing an invisible lifeline. But this was a question with a complicated answer, too.
“Better,” I answered after yet another pause. “He… he told me he loved me earlier. It was probably just a knee-jerk thing.”