Chapter Fourteen
Macgrath
“Fucking fantastic,” Imuttered after Ava left the room.
Scrubbing my face with my palms, I straightened and walked to the window that looked out into the backyard. I’d completely fucked that up.
I knew what happened wasn’t her fault and I didn’t understand why I was blaming her.
As I stared unseeingly out into the backyard, I couldn’t ignore the reasons any longer. I blamed her because it was easier than blaming myself. If I had done more than protect Savannah the night of Rhiannon’s showdown with Ava, if I hadn’t hesitated when it came to killing Rhiannon, none of this would be an issue now.
I had hesitated because, as far as I knew, Rhiannon was the only other creature on this earth that knew who I was.
But I could no longer lie to myself. Rhiannon knew no more about me than anyone else I’d ever met. Denial was the most dangerous lie because the only person you deceived was yourself.
I couldn’t remain in denial forever. With the illusions ripped away, I realized that I could have prevented so much of the death and destruction Rhiannon had orchestrated during the last century. Instead, I’d turned a blind eye. The blood Rhiannon spilled also stained my hands.
I was a monster. In the past, in the present, and in the future. There was no changing it or wishing it away.
My head fell forward and I looked down at the counter. I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be near Ava or Savannah. I was tainted. Unclean. Like the human folklore claimed.
My hands fisted of their own volition. I should leave, but I couldn’t.
I’d vowed to protect her. I would see that vow through.
For a century, I’d lied to myself. I wouldn’t let that vow become a lie as well.
Ava and Iavoided each other until after nightfall and the hour grew late. Around eleven, she walked into the living room. Her steps were quiet, nearly silent, but I pretended I couldn’t hear her. It might have been the coward’s way out but I didn’t want to look at her and see the wounded expression she wore earlier, after I blamed her for the theft of the grimoire.
I was lying on the couch, watching television.
“I have a couple spare rooms,” she stated softly, her voice barely louder than the television. “One down here and one upstairs.”
Steeling myself, I turned my head and met her eyes. She didn’t look wounded or sad. Her face was just…blank. A polite mask. I hated it more than the expression she wore when we argued.
“I’ve reinforced the wards around the house and increased my protection spells. If you’d prefer to sleep downstairs, it should be safe.”
I hated the quiet, cool tone. She sounded detached, as though she didn’t care one way or the other.
Yet every word was like a knife in my gut.
Even when Ava didn’t trust me or was angry with me, she hadn’t spoken to me with that tone. When she spoke to me, her face and her words, they were alive with emotion.
The woman looking at me now was not the same.
“I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to sleep down here,” I stated, getting to my feet.
She nodded, her arms lifted to cross at her waist. “That’s fine. You don’t have to go to bed now if you aren’t tired. The spare room is across the hall from mine.”
I prepared for the impending argument as I spoke, “I’m not sleeping in the spare room. If Rhiannon was able to breach your protection before, she might be able to do it again. I’ll sleep on the lounge in your room.”
Her eyes narrowed on me for a moment. “That’s not necessary.”
“Probably not, but it’s not a chance I’m willing to take,” I replied with a shrug.
I expected her to disagree, to yell at me. Instead she mirrored my shrug. “Fine. But I’m going to bed now, so…” She stopped speaking and shook her head. Without another word, Ava turned and left the room.
I grabbed the remote, shut off the television, and headed upstairs. Her bathroom door was shut when I entered her bedroom and I could hear water running. The sound made me think of seeing her in the shower. It was hard to believe that had only been a few hours ago.
