“You fought him even then.”
“From the time I saw who he was.”
“When he killed your mother.”
“Even before then.”
“He’s a sick fucker.”
His snort rang out. “He sure is, which is why we’ll kill him.”
“Soon.”
“When it’s time.”
“It never seems to be the right time. I could flit there now and do it. You no longer wear his collar.”
“He’ll expect it. He’ll be waiting.”
“He already is. As we left, I shouted that I’d be back and that I’d kill him. I’m sure he heard.”
“If he’s wise, he’s hiding,” he said.
“I doubt that man ever hides. He believes he’s untouchable.”
“We’ll prove him wrong.”
I leaned back and looked up at him. “We.”
“I’m with you in this, Tempest. Always.”
But not with me in his heart. I told myself I’d do all I could to win him again, that I could make him feel what he had before he was drained, but perhaps the best way to woo someone was without pushing.
“You know everything now, don’t you?” he said.
“If I did, I’m sure I could end this. But I assume you’re speaking about your past and the secrets you kept from me. I hope I know everything.”
“I don’t know if I’m keeping things from you or not. I’ll tell you anything I can. I suspect I shouldn’t hold anything else back.”
“I need all the information before I can act.”
“I’ll help you. I want to do that.”
At least he still felt the same in this.
“Would you like to see something perfect?” he asked.
“Sure.” Maybe it could cheer me up.
He flitted us to a small garden.
My breath caught as I took in the beds surrounding us full of black roses with silver tips. I’d seen them in the courtyard but there were so many here.
“Your mother planted these, plus the ones in the courtyard,” he said. “I tended them for her after she . . .”
Burned.
“How did you get through the thorns covering the island?” I walked to the closest flower bed and stared. I didn’t dare to touch them—not yet.
