Chapter 27

Johnny and Erik were in the process of moving the furniture back into my room when Celia cornered me. “Look, Seph…the past few days have been all over the emotional map and”—she paused—“we’ve been friends a long time. I thought I knew you—I had you compartmentalized nicely in my mind, labeled safe, dependable, and sweet.”

“What are you saying?” I felt my shoulders tighten.

“I had moments these last few days when I wondered about you. I wondered when you’d become this other person and why I hadn’t seen it. I mean, we talked about Johnny, and next thing I know you’re jabbing needles into Vivian’s neck and then…” She sucked in a breath and put her hands on my shoulders. “Then you were facing down vampires, saving a life the only way you knew how.”

My tension faded.

“You’re still safe, dependable, and sweet. I’m just going to have to add brave, tough, and relentless to the list.” She smiled.

I hugged her.

“We’re leaving the air mattress upstairs for Johnny.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m glad he’s sticking around for a few days just to see that all is well.”

“Yeah. I am too.” Celia and Erik were going to take Theo home and help with the cleanup there and at her office. I hadn’t told them about the call from my editor. It would’ve just kept their suspicions up. I wanted this thing over. “You know, I wouldn’t mind at all tagging along and helping with the cleanup at Theo’s and at Revelations.”

Putting a hand on my shoulder, Celia said softly, “Oh, Seph. Don’t bother. We’ll have it done in no time.”

Sure, it was a polite way of reminding me that I was a comparative weakling. Plus I knew they were going to talk about me. I wasn’t worried about it because of insecurity; it was just that I’d never been like them because I wasn’t a wære. I was now even less like them because I was stained. It made me feel like a bizarre outcast, while they seemed like the normal ones all of a sudden. That was weird.

Theo came and hugged me as they were going out. “I’m so sorry for all the pain and loss I’ve caused you, Theo,” I said. I broke out of the embrace and pulled a thick envelope from my pocket. “Take this.”

“What?” She opened it. “Persephone—”

“It’s for a new vehicle and repair or replacement of whatever was damaged. If you need more, let me know.” She pushed the envelope back at me, shaking her head, and started to say something. I cut her off. “Vivian gave me money, and this is out of that. She blackmailed it out of Menessos, so it’s kind of like him paying for it. Since his guy did it—seems fair.”

“Persephone, you keep me safe every full moon. I know your name and where your house is, but I never felt like I really knew you. Still, I don’t feel like I know you. I was surprised as hell to find out you’re an Arthurian fan.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t have guessed that, y’know?” She shifted the envelope and took my hand. “But I knew from the start that I felt safe kenneling at your place. Instinctively, I trusted you with my safety. That’s not going to change. A dozen times you could have ducked your head and run, you could have given up because things looked hard or hopeless. But you dared to go onward.” Her shoulders squared. “Even with your carrying a vampire’s stain, I’d put my life in your hands again, knowingly, and feel secure about it. The kind of character you have isn’t learned, isn’t…isn’t even a choice. It’s inborn, and inescapable.”

I squeezed her hand, my eyes were stinging with tears.

“Okay, speech over,” she said brightly, and hugged me again. “See you soon.”

Theo walked out of my house. Her ankles and one leg had been broken just days ago. My heart felt so big knowing I had helped, truly helped. But my conscience wouldn’t let my ego swell much. It whispered, “Saviors don’t set up the disaster they’re praised for rising above.”

A little over an hour later, as I was finishing cleaning up the bedroom, the phone rang. Picking up the cordless from my room, I answered. “Hello.”

“Seph, it’s Celia.”

“Make it okay?”

“Yeah. That rat drummer of theirs, Feral, was already here cleaning up. Said he didn’t want us to be overwhelmed.”

I carried the phone with me as I carried my cleaning supplies downstairs. “He’s a good guy.”

“He is. I just wanted to let you know that we made it and that things are gonna be fine. The door will be fixed quick, and she’ll have a place to sleep and working locks back on her doors. I figured you’d want to hear that.”

“I did. Thanks, Celia.”

“Sure. Bye.”

I clicked the phone off and laid it on the counter. Beverley had started the dishes. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said.

She shrugged. “I needed something to do. I’m not in school.”

“Well, I appreciate your help. Oh, crap!” It was Monday. “I have to call and get you excused from school!” I was going to have to contact the authorities and somehow get the matter of custody settled. I couldn’t even get her enrolled in school here until I had that straightened out.

“It’s okay. I mean, the school knows about my mother and all. Then there was all that…stuff with the reporters and all. I don’t think they expect me back in class right away. Besides, I deserve a break.”

“Yes, you do.”

She washed on in silence. I put the cleaning supplies away in the laundry room. When I came back through, she said, “Seph?”

“Yeah?”

“When the wolves changed in the circle, was it…” She kept her attention focused on the plate she was rubbing a rag over. “Was it like that for my mom too?”

I sat down at the table. “Yeah.”

“So that wasn’t different because of the circle or the magic?”

“No.” Staying matter-of-fact about it would keep me from over-or underrating the experience of being a wære.

She let the plate and the rag drop back into the soapy water and faced me. “Looked like it hurt.”

“I think it does hurt. A lot.”

Beverley shifted her weight, then turned back to the sink.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve seen it, Seph. I think I can handle the verbal details.”

She sounded so much older than nine; well, she was almost ten. Her birthday was in the first part of November, making her a Scorpio.

I got up and went to her. If she’d turned to me, I would have hugged her, but she didn’t, so I grabbed a dish towel and started drying the dishes and putting them away. She wouldn’t know where they all went anyway. “I’m not holding back, Beverley. I just don’t know more than that.”

“But you write a column about them.”

“Yeah, I do. But that’s social stuff. This is more specific individual experience stuff.” I looked around. “Where’s Johnny? I’m sure he would answer your questions. He knows it because he lives it; I just observe it.”

“I think he went out to get the stake and have it ready for the pickup.” She paused. “What if he doesn’t think I’m ready to hear the answers?”

“If you’re able to ask the questions, I guess you are able to hear the answers.”

I thought that satisfied her, but a minute later I realized there were long streaks on her face. I put the rag down. “Beverley?”

With her hands in the water, she dropped her head to her chest and the sobs came out.

I touched her shoulder. “What is it?”

“Me and Mom used to do dishes like this and talk.”

“Oh, honey.” Regardless of her dripping hands, I turned her and took her into my arms and hugged her tight.

“I miss her so much.”

“Of course you do.” I stroked her hair. However many times she needed to cry, I vowed to myself I’d embrace her and let her do so.

When her grief subsided enough that she could pull away and wipe her eyes, she said, “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for or ashamed of.”

She nodded, but she still looked miserable.