“She’s a monster,” Thomas said.
“Yeah.”
“She hasJustine,” Thomas snarled.
“Yeah,” I said calmly, “and she might be her only hope. I looked for Justine for the whole year, every week, and I couldn’t find her. Me. And I’m good at finding people. Lara looked for the whole year, with the whole power of her organization and influence, and she didn’t do any better. But Mab found her. Captured her without killing her. Brought your son into the world in good health. And is now working to save Justine. Mab’s a monster. But she can do things no one else can do.”
“What did it cost?” Thomas demanded.
I told him. About Lara. About the influence Winter now had on her. That I now had on her.
Thomas stared at me for a long moment. Then he said, “Empty fucking night.” He swallowed. “If the White Court finds out about this, they’ll tear her to pieces fighting for who takes over.”
“Then don’t tell them,” I said.
He bowed his head.
“Harry,” he said, “you and I…You’ve made choices for me. For the people I love.”
“I know,” I said.
“I think…” he said slowly, and very quietly, “…that…it would be best…if we didn’t speak for a while.”
I swallowed.
My chest hurt.
I felt hurt. I felt angry. Stars and stones, I had done my best. I had been falling to bits and had still done my best to do whatever I could. I hadn’t been thinking at my clearest, and Mab had taken advantage of that, but I had tried. So hard.
Deep breath.
All of that was true. But right now, it wasn’t about me.
Sometimes, when you care about someone, the only thing you can do to help them is give them space. Time. And be ready to talk when they are. Thomas was hurting, lost, disoriented in adjusting to a new life.
I knew how that felt.
And I loved my brother.
I wanted to help him. But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want it yet.
“I get it,” I said quietly. “I see it. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
“A lot,” he said, bitter again, “will depend on how things turn out. With my son. With Justine. With Lara. With my people.”
I braced myself, forced myself to keep my voice as calm and kind as I could. “Thomas,” I said. “I did everything I could.”
“You sure as hell did, Harry,” he said, voice broken.
Then he shook his head and left.
Mouse watched him go and made a soft, mournful sound. Then he rose and padded over to me and leaned against me, laying his head against my stomach, dark eyes looking up at my face.
I put my hand on his head and said, “I know, buddy. I know. He just needs time.”
And that was the last I saw of my brother for a while.
—
