Page 49

Roslyn told that story looking straight at me. A warning: let Ellery into my world the right way, or not at all. I sat there with Ellery’s knee against mine and looked Roslyn in the eye like I didn’t hear the lesson. I have no idea whether that fooled anyone, least of all myself.

The closer we get, the harder it is to keep the truth from her. And there’s no version where I just tell her.

Carter petitioned once for a woman who worked it out on her own. At first she seemed fine with it. Then she wasn’t. She ran back to Portland, and they sent one of the older vampires down to fix it.

My bedroom door swings open, and Luca leans against the frame, hair askew, arms folded. “Do you think you could finish brooding in the morning?”

“Sorry.” I grip the dresser so hard the wood cracks. I pull my shirt over my head, drop it in the hamper, and get a fresh one from the drawer. “Go back to bed. I’ll be quiet.”

Luca sits on the end of my bed. “I knew you had it bad, but not this bad.”

“I’m fine.” I sink down onto the mattress next to him and stare at my hands. “Go to bed.”

“You’re allowed to be happy, you know.”

Carter has his own version of this speech. I’ve heard it a dozen times.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It can be. If you let it.”

He’s wrong.

“Is it because she’s an outsider? ’Cause that can be fixed. Or are you just scared?”

“It’s not that.” Which is true, and also not an answer.

“So tell her.”

“And then what? She stays because I asked, and she’s spent her whole life doing things because somebody asked.”

“That’s not a reason. That’s a fear.”

“Fine. Here’s a reason.” I sit up. “Unsanctioned disclosure. Constantin moves to have me removed as Guardian. You turn twenty-one in nine days, and ten dawns after that you’re standing in that grove with Hazel’s knife against your chest.” I let that take up space between us. “Is that better? Does that work for you?”

Sebastian took his Rites at twenty-three. He’d been a vampire for four years when Dad died, and when the grove came for him he got in a car.

Luca studies the floor for a while.

“You think he’d do that? For telling her what you are?” he says.

“Yes.”

Even if there wasn’t a cost, I’m not sure I’d tell her. I don’t want to be the thing that keeps her here. That’s not the same as her choosing to stay.

“Whatever happens, she deserves to know all of you, Nick, and decide for herself what she wants.” He stops in the doorway on his way out. “Now, keep the brooding to a minimum.”

Luca takes the worst outcome available to him and lets it roll off. I’ve never worked out how he does that. He closes the door, and the room sinks back into darkness. The walls are bare in here, too. I haven’t let myself get comfortable in this house, scared to make something my own after giving up so much.

He’s never had to end things with someone he loved to save them from being trapped. I have, and I’m not doing it twice. I tied myself to this town with my eyes open, and Ellery would be doing it blind. Deciding for herself only works if she knows what she’s deciding, and telling her has consequences for more than just me.

When the sun comes up I’m still sitting on the end of my bed, the conversation with Luca playing on repeat. What I need is a long run through the woods to burn off this agitation. Miles of track with no one in my ear to figure out what I’m going to do about Ellery.

Unfortunately, I have the weekly council meeting to sit through and some Renards to piss off first. I shower, dress, and drag myself downstairs, making sure I drink two bottles of blood so I’m not tempted to do anything stupid.

Town hall sits opposite the plank bridge, a stone building erected a century ago as neutral ground. The chairs are still out from the last community forum. Today’s gathering is closed, council members and town leaders only, in a smaller chamber off to the side.

A few people are already here, milling around the refreshments table, with cups of coffee, sourdough biscuits, and cinnamon rolls. Roslyn spots me first and closes the distance. I try to keep the wince from my face. I know what she’s going to say, and I’d rather she didn’t.