“Mother Hush didn’t want Abbi,” I said. “She wants…” I tried to say the book, the Strange weave, but the words locked in my throat. I broke out in an instant sweat.
“The book. I know. I heard her. You don’t have to say it.”
I focused on breathing. When I could move, I picked up the towel and dried off. “I don’t think the two things, Abbi and…”
“…the god’s spell book,” he supplied.
“…have anything to do with each other.”
Valentine messed with the leather lacings on his wrist, fingering the beads like he was working an abacus. “They took her Shadow. When he was falling. They wanted Abbi enough to take him. Trap him.”
I dressed, thinking it over. Why did Cupid want us to find Abbi anddo the right thing? Was he worried she’d fall into the hands of the Hush? Or did he want us to find out what the Hush were doing? Did he want to know what move they were going to play in finding the book?
Were we all just pawns in a god war?
“He said I’d know the Rabbit when we found her,” Val said. “I did know her and her Shadow too. But is that all I was supposed to do? Was that all I was good for?”
“You’re good for annoying me,” I said.
His expression, which had looked pretty lost, fell into a familiar scowl.
“I’m good for a hell of a lot more than that.”
“Tell Bo that when we see him again. Until then, you’ll just have to help us save Abbi and her Shadow from the Hush.”
“What happens if we get her out of there?”
“Whenwe get her out of there, we’ll do the right thing by letting her choose her own the next step.”
Val’s grin was swift and sharp, and it put a spark in his eyes I hadn’t seen. “You’d go against a god and let the Rabbit run away?”
“Gods and I have never much seen eye-to-eye.” I strode into the bedroom, put on soft socks and the boots, which fit perfectly, then headed down the hall. Val was already in the kitchen by the time I got there.
And so were fifty other people.
Werewolves chatted and laughed and grumbled as they gave each other no space but plenty of side-eye. Most of them were spooning apple compote over waffles and eating them as quickly as Lu and Ricky could get them out of the iron.
I knew they’d heard me coming, because I wasn’t trying to be quiet, and they were werewolves, but only two looked up as I strode into the kitchen: Summer and Cove, who I thought was the leader of the Kearney pack.
I met both of their gazes, and for a moment, I was angry at them. For how they’d failed Abbi, yes, but also how they hadn’t protected one of their own: Valentine.
Val stood apart from all of the others, the look on his face a mix of sorrow and anger and longing.
Danube was searching the room. His gaze stalled on the corner where Val sulked. I thought he was going to wend his way through the crowd, but Ricky was there, bending close to Val and saying something that drew Valentine out of his slouch, and put that sharp smile back on his face.
When Ricky pulled away, she threw a look at Danube, then went back to helping Lu with the waffles.
Val had disappeared, but I figured he wasn’t far off.
Lu turned toward me and winked, and there was nothing that could keep me from her. The werewolves shifted out of my way, as if they knew the only thing for me in that kitchen was a red-headed woman with a ladle in her hand.
She watched me walk her way, taking in my face, my chest, the right side of my torso—where my ribs still twinged if I breathed wrong—and my scuffed knuckles.
I’d seen the bruises on my face, and while they didn’t look great, they’d already faded from black to a muddy green.
“Breakfast smells good,” I said, crowding in on her.
“You play your cards right, and I’ll give you the next waffle fresh off the iron.”
