“Do you have what you need to pick it?”
Veda pats her bag and smiles at Antaris. “A trusty foraging bag is key. We’ll have to get you one when we get back.”
His eyes brighten as he nods, excited. They watch Veda work, precisely cutting the leaves and flowers and sealing them into bags with a spell she pays for with a small chill. They decide to turn back. Just as he did on their ascent, Hiram keeps glancing in her direction. Aside from kissing her forehead before starting breakfast, he hasn’t acknowledged last night. Neither has she. A planner whose backup plans have backup plans, Hiram is determining when he can broach the subject when Veda falls into step with him, presses a hand against his back, and whispers, “Tonight?”
Then she’s walking ahead to Antaris, helping him over a large log blocking the path.
Hiram’s smile grows. Tonight, it is.
Back at the house, Antaris takes his snack on the balcony, giving Hiram a moment to nudge Veda against the wall, ignoring her sarcasm to angle for the kiss that will break their nightcap ritual. But his phone starts vibrating with calls and messages. Then hers does the same. The messages are from different people, but they say the same thing.
Your dad was attacked by Ariadne. He’s in the hospital.
Hiram calls the pilot. Veda starts packing.
In the waiting room, Simran stands out, not for how she’s dressed but because she isn’t. His mother is in a long silk nightgown and tennis shoes Hiram never knew she owned. She looks years older, her eyes puffy from crying, her forehead in need of rebandaging. Simran notices him first, but instead of speaking, she returns to staring at the door, lip quivering, on the edge of tears. He spots Khadijah on the other side ofthe waiting room, white hair crinkled from unbraiding. Peter hops up from his spot across from Simran and walks to him.
“What happened?” Hiram asks.
“Apparently Ariadne is looking for her father. She walked into your parents’ house at around six this morning. Their talisman let her in—”
“Because she’s blood related. I changed mine.”
“Good.” Peter glances over at Simran, lowering his voice. “She took her time breaking all the bones in your dad’s legs because he refused to give up his brother’s location. Your mom woke up to him screaming, hit Ariadne with a vase, and was shoved into a wall, which is why she ended up with a concussion. Ariadne ran off, hurt but not obviously bleeding, and your mom managed to call me. Then I called Gabriel. By the time Khadijah and I got there, he was in shock. The medics weren’t there yet, so Khadijah healed him. He has some internal bleeding they’re working on now, but they believe he’ll pull through. Where are Veda and Antaris?”
“At home . . . my home.”
“Okay.” Peter gestures to the door, which prompts Khadijah to approach. “We’re going to go. I’d like to stop by tomorrow and have Khadijah do those tests I mentioned. I know the timing isn’t great, but I think it’ll help you and Antaris. Is that okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Great. We’ll bring everything. I’ve asked Gabriel to join with August. He’s dying to see Antaris.”
“That’s fine. Is eleven okay?”
“Yes.”
Hiram stops Khadijah on her way out. “Thank you for what you did.”
Hiram watches her leave while bracing for the onslaught that doesn’t come. Simran continues staring at the door for so long, he lets his guard down, which is precisely when she says, “I thought you blocked my number.”
“I didn’t.”
“But you did not answer.”
“I was away with Antaris.”
Dark-brown eyes cut to him before returning to the door. “And Miss Thorne, too, so I have heard.”
“We’re not discussing this now,” Hiram says. He knows she may sound cool and calm, but her broken nails and shaking hands betray her. “Are you okay?”
“No.” She touches her temple. “I did not know about your uncle Phillip’s daughter until recently. Have they found her yet?”
“No.”
“She nearly killed him.” Simran’s voice is low, short of a whisper. “Now do you see why we did not want you involved in everything? This is dangerous business.”
“We’re involved whether we want to be or not. Turning a blind eye is what got us here. We’re on the same fucked-up family tree, whether you acknowledge it or not. Uncle Phillip wanted to steal Sight from his own daughter, and no, it doesn’t absolve her for what she’s done, but it explains it. She’s like the rest of us Ellises. No regard for anything beyond herself.”
