My chest aches, but for some reason, knowing the truth is freeing somehow.
“When I found you in that cage and bought your slave price, you didn’t speak to me for months. And when you finally did, you told me your parents gave you away because they couldn’t love you.” She dabs at the corner of her eyes. “I told you I already loved you. Do you know what you said?” Her voice breaks. “You said I didn’t yet, but that you would be so perfect that someday I would, and then I could never leave you.”
Tears stream down my face. Those painful memories may be locked away by magic, but the hurt and trauma from being abandoned is still there, imprinted on my heart like wounds that have scarred over.
“My response rings just as true today as it did then.” Zinnia pulls a tissue from her bra and hands it to me. “Sweet girl, you’re my daughter and I love you.”
We finish off the bread and tea, and then she talks me into a hot shower. Afterwards, right before I fall asleep, I text Mack.
I love you. And whatever happens, that will never, ever change. See you tomorrow night.
42
The sound of shouts and cursing wake me. I stare groggily at the low ceiling. Are Jane and Vi fighting already?
A loud boom shakes the drywall.
Frick. That was a gunshot.
I jump from bed, still half asleep, and nearly slam into Zinnia.
Her face is red and flustered. “Your friends from the academy are here.”
“What?” I glance at my iPhone to catch the time, only to see I’ve missed a slew of messages from Eclipsa. “Who, Mack?”
Zinnia rushes out the door, calling over her shoulder. “No. Your pointy-eared friends. I have to get Vi and Jane out of the house before there’s a massacre.”
I can’t tell who she thinks is the danger; my friends or Jane and Vi.
“She’s charming,” comes a silky smooth female voice.
I whip around to see Eclipsa leaning against the wall nearest the window, arms crossed. She wears a Pink Pixie Pirates black crop top and low-riding silver leggings, the jewels across her forehead sparkling in the morning sun.
I look over her belly tats and navel piercing, the elaborate sweep of kohl eyeliner that brings out the otherworldly largeness of her dark eyes.
“Holy hell, my aunt is going to hate you.”
“Oh, you mean the leathery mortal woman who tried to take off my head with that shotgun?” She winks. “I like her. Her aim is crap, thank Titania, considering someone thought it was a good idea to arm her with iron buckshot. But it takes balls to try and shoot one of us.”
“Why are you here?”
She arches an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer any of my messages. I thought you were in trouble.”
“No. I’m just angry at you.”
Her lips tug into a pout. “Still?”
“Yes, Eclipsa. Still. I thought you were my friend and your words hurt me.”
Eyes downcast, she toes a plum purple and orange sneaker into the warped edge of a floorboard. “You are my friend. One of my only friends, in fact. Which is weird because I don’t ever remember agreeing to like you, but there it is. I do, against my will.”
I snort. “You are absolutely the worst at apologies.”
“I’m aware.” She glares. “I’m not good at this, okay?”
“Didn’t we just establish that?”
“I mean, having friends. Caring. It’s not natural to me. In the Everwilde, we’ve been taught from birth how to betray and manipulate our way to power. It’s all that matters in our world, and having friends when everyone is a potential enemy is a liability.”