“Not Harcourt, El. You can’t. It’s not safe.”
“The vampires are gone. I’ll be fine.”
She hesitates, and I picture her chewing her lip on the other end of our connection. “It’s not just the vampires. The FBI is up the Denardis’ asses over this Gold Weaver thing, but they haven’t had enough evidence to nail them. You know too much, El. There’s still a price on your head.”
I sigh. “I’m going home. Damien’s with me, and I’m…” I hesitate. I don’t want to tell her that I’m a vampire. Not over the phone. “I’m stronger now. I proved as much by my victory over Valeska.”
“Okay,” she says softly. “I’ll see you there.”
“Wait, Maeve—” I try to tell her that she shouldn’t risk herself for me, but she’s already hung up.
We arrive at Harcourt after midnight to find Maeve waiting for us. A sob breaks from her throat as she embraces me. “Goddess, El. I love you, girlie. I’m so happy you’re home.”
“I love you too,” I say through a laugh, careful not to squeeze her too hard. “And I couldn’t agree more.”
Her nose twitches as her senses tell her something’s not right with me. With her hands still gripping my shoulders, she takes me in, that witchy part of her bubbling to the surface and surrounding us with an aura of magic. How had I gone so long not knowing what she was?
Behind her square-framed glasses, her eyes narrow. I can almost hear her working it out in her head. “Oh, Eloise…”
“It wasn’t my choice,” I say softly. “But it is the way I was able to win.”
She refuses to let me go and pulls me into an even harder squeeze. She’s still wearing her coat. It’s early spring, and the weather is cold and rainy, but I can’t feel it. This new body of mine is extremely resilient to changes in temperature. The royal-blue trench coat I’m wearing and Damien’s dark gray wool one are just for show, just to help us look more human.
All at once, I remember that she is still human. I catch the scent of her blood, hear her heart beat faster, smell her adrenaline spike.
“Can I take your coat?” I ask, trying to act human as best I can. I’m the same as before. Relax. “Are you hungry? We could order something. I could make tea.” I point toward the kitchen.
Emotions flit through her expression so quickly I can’t interpret them all, but a few of them come through clear as day. She knows I’m a vampire. She knows I no longer eat like she does. She still loves me, but things are different. Different in ways she’s not sure how exactly to deal with. I see all these things in her eyes and can relate to each one because I feel them too.
“I’ll hold on to my coat if it’s all the same. It’s freezing in here.” She hugs herself. “And I’m fine, thanks. It’s late for me. I’ve already eaten.”
Of course she has. “I’ll turn on the heat for you.” I move for the hall and the thermostat, careful to slow my steps, move as a human would, to put Maeve at ease. Technically the heat has been on, but it’s turned down to fifty-five, just enough to keep the pipes from freezing. I bump it up by ten degrees. Then glance back at her and nudge it to seventy-two. The heat kicks on with a click, and I feel warm air blow into the room.
When I release the dial, I wipe my fingers on my coat. Everything is covered in a thin film of dust, including the top of the thermostat. Even the wood floors are badly in need of a sweep. It’s been months since I was in this house. Truth be told, I was not a stellar housekeeper even before I left, but the ghosts of my ancestors always took care of things when I lived here. Unfortunately, I took them with me when I left for Night Haven. Which means…
I wander into the kitchen and see that the spider plant hanging over the sink, the one that has grown there for as long as I’ve been alive, is dead. I reach up and take a crispy leaf between my fingers. Pieces crumble and float to the floor.
“I should have had someone water that. I forgot it was in here,” Maeve says. “After the threats, I?—”
“You did your best,” I say, holding up a hand. “It’s just a plant. Thank you for paying the bills and managing all the crap with Tony’s estate and everything.”
She slides her hands into her pockets. “About that, if you stay here tonight, you should expect to have visitors tomorrow. Nothing has changed since I visited you in your dream. Agent Fuller still wants to talk to you. They found the Maserati and Jared’s body. He’s going to want to know where you’ve been. He’ll have questions.”
Damien gives a low growl. Of the two of us, he’s the only one who could so much as answer the door. The light would kill me.
“We’ll figure something out,” I tell her.
She hugs herself and shivers. I’m not sure if it’s from the drafty house or the situation. It can’t be easy learning your best friend is a vampire, especially considering vampires and witches haven’t often been allies.
“The heat in here always did take a minute. Let me light a fire for you.”
I march into the parlor and reach for the tin of matches on the mantel.
“Really, you don’t have to do that,” she says, striding in behind me. She goes straight for the lamp next to the sofa and clicks it on. I don’t need it anymore.
Damien appears beside me, his hand fitting into the small of my back. I might be stronger than ever, but I melt into that touch, melt into his side. This house isn’t just dusty; it feels dead. Soulless. Cold. The scent of my grandmother’s perfume is long gone. No sounds or smells of cooking come from the kitchen. The pictures of my ancestors on the walls feel distant and disconnected from me.
I try to push the feeling aside as I squat down to stack a few logs and attempt to light them. It doesn’t work, and I end up grabbing the tin of matches and doing it the nonmagical way. As the fire catches, I can’t shake the feeling.
