“But she didn’t.” Charity fisted Devon’s shirt in her hands. “She didn’t have to.”
Devon didn’t argue, just rocked her slowly. She cried until she didn’t have any tears left, then she hugged her dad and found a few more to squeeze out. Finally, after the sun was gone and the stars had made bright holes in the dark sky, Charity stilled and dried her face. She wasn’t done being sad, but she was done making a show of it.
“Let’s go see Vlad,” she said, threading her fingers through Devon’s.
Roger had cleared all his shifters away, giving her a large perimeter for her grief. For all their focus on propriety, the fae didn’t understand personal space, and crowded around her as she led the way out of the grounds and to the vehicles beyond.
“We will mourn her together,” Halvor said, walking directly behind Charity. Murmurs of assent sounded around them.
“And we’ll get really fucking drunk while we do,” Andy said.
“Charity doesn’t drink, you dick,” Rod said.
“Shut up,” Macy added.
“He is there.” Cole’s words, uttered like a sudden crack of thunder, made Charity jump.
“Fall back,” Roger said.
Devon nodded to Steve at his right and glanced at the rest of his pack. Dale had requested a transfer shortly after they’d returned to the Brink, but Steve, Cole, and Barbara had chosen to stay. They followed his silent command and drifted back with Roger.
Vlad waited where he said he’d be, holding a beat-up box and sporting an expression of compassion.
“I am sorry for your loss,” he said as Charity neared.
Reagan and the mages split off to the side without a word. Vlad didn’t spare them any notice. He only had eyes for Romulus and Charity, standing in front of the other warrior fae, battle ready.
Vlad held out the box. “I secured this for you. I thought you’d want to have it.”
Romulus stepped forward to take it. He didn’t flinch from the elder vampire or seem worried in any way.
Charity glanced into the box as her dad handed it back to her. A few items of clothing Charity didn’t recognize, a beat-up sun hat, and some other effects her mom had left behind. The box wasn’t even half-full.
Charity’s heart hurt. She just wanted to go home.
“Thank you, Vlad,” she said, and meant it. “Thank you for finding that note. It…means a lot.”
“One last thing, to put your mind at ease. I did a little digging. I have reason to believe a Seer in her youth pushed her toward marrying Walt. This was after Romulus had left, of course. Now, whether this Seer was offering your mother a divine view of the future, or simply acting on her judgments regarding an unwed mother, I do not know. But in your mother’s position, heartbroken—I beg your pardon, Second—and after seeing a man disappear into thin air, when he crossed over to the Realm, she probably took the Seer’s guidance in good faith. Anyone would’ve done the same. Having taken a Seer’s guidance yourself, I hope you don’t fault her for that.”
Memories of her mother visiting the fortune-tellers and palm and tarot readers drifted into Charity’s head. They’d been entertainment when she was little, sure, but Vlad was correct. Her mother had watched her real father cross over into the Realm… Charity could see asking a person she perceived as magical for answers. She could also see a real Seer giving her the option to sacrifice her happiness for a more favorable outcome for her daughter. Devon had received such a telling. Her mother would’ve done it out of love, as Devon had.
More tears slipped down Charity’s cheeks. The sadness she’d felt over the last few years changed, turning into something good. The people that loved her most gave everything to see her through. It was more than anyone had a right to ask for. Charity was truly blessed.
“Thank you,” she said.
Vlad swept into a bow, debonair and perfect. “Please, let me know if you need anything. I am at your service.” Vlad’s gaze shifted to Romulus. “Second, so great to finally meet you in person. I shall have you over for dinner one of these days. I would love to get your opinion on some gardens I’d like to alter.”
“Of course. We can make a night of it.” Romulus offered his own bow, polite yet distant.
Vlad took a step back. “I won’t keep you.” He turned a little, now facing Reagan. “Miss Somerset.”
“Vlad.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I have not forgotten our exchange in the Lair. It has been on my mind of late.”
“Oh, right,” she responded. “When I spun you around like a top? That time?”
His smile was slight and sly. “One good turn deserves another. Shall I say hello to your father? He’ll be around next week for a…meeting of the minds.”
Her face closed down into a hard mask. She didn’t respond.