* * *
* * *
I’d barely eaten a thing since the bonfire, so the food was a warm welcome.
We were famished and ate in relative silence—three shifters and a vampire refueling with some pretty magnificent steaks and my well-kneaded bread. Maybe baking could be a hobby, after all.
“I owe you an apology,” Georgia pronounced when we’d stuffed ourselves silly.
“I don’t disagree,” Connor said, and Georgia’s mouth quirked.
“You’re a lot like your mother, you know. She also doesn’t suffer fools.”
“No, she doesn’t. But while I’ll agree you owe us an apology, I’m going to save you from making it. Let’s all just agree the situation is complicated.”
“I can agree to that,” Georgia said. “I’m sorry about Obsideo.”
“It exists for a reason,” Connor said. “And it’s done, so there’s no point in dwelling on it.” As if reminded of the weight of his magical bonds, Connor rolled his shoulders. “Did Cash agree to send out teams to search?”
“No,” Georgia said grimly. “He thinks that would be a waste of resources, and the clan needs to stay close to home, given the external threats against it.”
“Quintet of idiots,” I murmured, and Connor squeezed my hand in agreement.
“Fortunately,” she said, “I have my own allies, and I’ve sent out some teams. They won’t have the coverage we need—not given how large the area is, how deep the woods—but it’s better than nothing.
“I’d heard rumors about Loren having affairs, of course,” Georgia continued. “But he’s a shifter and single. I’d never heard anything about it being nonconsensual.” She reached out, put a hand on Traeger’s. “If that’s what happened to Paisley, I’m sorry for it. Very, very sorry.”
Traeger nodded, but looked away, grief and anger etching lines in his face that he was too young to bear.
“Connor says the spellseller told him Zane bought a rock,” Georgia said to him. “Do you buy that?”
Traeger shook his head. “He wouldn’t care about a rock.”
“Have you ever visited the shop?” I asked them. “Bought any magic from her?”
Georgia snorted. “I haven’t been in and didn’t know she was a sorceress. Is she—what do they call it—registered?”
“She says she isn’t,” I said, and glanced at Traeger, brows lifted. “What about you?”
“What would I want with crystals and shit?” Traeger asked.
“She’s lying,” Connor explained. “Maybe because she doesn’t want to get tagged by the Order, or maybe because she’s feeling guilty or afraid. We’re hoping the Order can give us some leverage.”
“We could go into town in wolf form,” Traeger said. “Scare her into telling us the truth.”
“Trying to scare people into doing the right thing is what got us here in the first place,” Connor said. “If we get leverage, we’ll talk to her again. What about a symbol made up of two Rs?” He looked between them.
“No,” Georgia said, and glared at Traeger, who shook his head. “Why?”
“We think they left it near the shutter,” Connor said. He pushed back his chair. “Trae and I will take care of the dishes. But first, we’re going to get some fresh air.” He looked at Traeger expectantly, waited until he rose.
“Don’t go far,” Georgia said.
“Literally just to the patio,” Connor said with a smile. “Your boy will be fine.”
“I’m not her boy,” Traeger muttered, but there was something pleased in his tone.
“Fresh air does a body good,” Georgia said. “And you will take care of the dishes, but they can wait until you’re back. And this will give Elisa and me a chance to talk.”
We waited until they walked outside and the door closed behind them.
And then I was alone with her, dreading the possibility that I already knew exactly what Georgia wanted to talk about.
“Getting some attention from Connor will also do him some good,” she said. “Feeling like he’s heard.”
“He came to us,” I said. “Told us about Zane. Connor’s already told him that was the right thing to do, the hard thing to do. I think he appreciates his dad’s influence enough to know what it’s like when people don’t have good role models.”
“Trae definitely didn’t,” Georgia agreed. “I did the best I could, but I wasn’t his parents.”
I nodded, looked out the window. The wind had picked up outside, and branches snapped against the windows.
“Doing the right thing,” Georgia said. “The hard thing. There’s a lot of that going around.”
I looked back at her, wasn’t sure if I’d see censure or approval. I found neither—more a kind of curiosity.
“You did right by Carlie,” she said. “It’s taken me some hours—some hard hours—to think through it. But it was the choice you had to make, and you made it.”
“I did.”
“I’m glad of it. I get the sense, Elisa, that you make a lot of hard choices.”
I understood we weren’t talking about Carlie anymore.
“Would you like to tell me about it? I realize I offered that before, and you declined, and events in the middle may not endear me overmuch. I don’t know you very well,” she said. “But you saved Carlie, and that means a lot.” She smiled a little. “And I see enough of you reflected in his eyes, in the way he looks at you.”
I watched her for a long time, my chest aching with emotion.
Maybe it was a weakness I shouldn’t have shown. Maybe it was the debt I’d have to pay back drawing nearer. Maybe it was the combination of exhaustion and weakness. Maybe I was tired of being afraid.
Or maybe, because she was a shifter and there was trouble enough in her own family, it didn’t feel as hard to be honest.
“I call it the ‘monster.’”
* * *
* * *
We stayed at the kitchen table, and I told her everything. I told her about the dragon, Mallory’s binding magic. The sensation that something foreign, something other, was living inside me. That it was violent and angry and powerful and strong. That it wanted out.
And that it was getting harder and harder to hold it back.