He couldn’t even wait until he got back from the hotel. Couldn’t give it a couple of days and see if maybe time led him to believe again the things he’d started to say to her the night before about working it out. The things he’d started to say when he was interrupted, the things he’d never said.

And now apparently he never would.

She bit her lip, cleared her throat. The brothers looked ready to start sobbing. If she didn’t pull herself together quickly, they probably would.

“Thanks, guys. I ap—thanks.”

“Thought you was gonna come live wif us,” Maleficarum replied. “Was it summat we did? We din’t mean to, whatever it was, we can—”

“No! No, it wasn’t, of course it wasn’t anything you guys did. How could it be? You’re—you’re so great, all three of you.”

Malleus wiped his nose on his sleeve. “If we’re so great, how come you’re leavin’?”

“We’ll be better,” Maleficarum said. “We promise. I din’t mean to walk in when you was in the shower, t’other week. I know you don’t like when I do that. I din’t see nuffink, I swear it. I won’t do it again, I was thinkin’ you could put a sign on the door or somefing so I’ll know—”

“It’s your fault, then, Lif. She don’t want you always peekin’ in at ’er. I tole you before, ladies don’t like when you see ’em naked. Why can’t you quit bein’ so rude?”

“Yeh!”

“You was the one who spilled a drink on ’er, Mal! An’ were you what ast her if she were menstratin’, like it’s any of your mind! No wonder she’s leavin’ us, with you pokin’ your nose in—”

“She looked pale! I were only tryin’ to ’elp! To show ’er I cared, like. Shouldn’t I worry for ’er health?”

“Stickin’ your big Mary’s into ’er womb ain’t helpin’, ye gobshite! ’S personal business between her and Lord Dante! ’S all your fault!”

The sound of Tera’s helpless giggling brought Megan back to earth finally. This was not some bizarre after-school special, and to stand and watch it in a half-sick, half-amused stupor as she’d been doing was not the best way to deal with it.

“Guys! Guys, please!”

“And what about Spud? He tried that new eyeshadow on ’er last month, an’ it made ’er look like a consumptive! She don’t want to go out lookin’ like ’er lungs is about ter fall out!”

Spud said nothing, but his hands wrung faster than before.

“Guys!” She tried again. “Guys, shut up!”

Spud burst into tears. Malleus and Maleficarum simply looked injured; they huddled around Spud, with Malleus patting his back, and gave her baleful glances.

“I’m sorry. But this has nothing to do with you, okay? I promise. It’s nothing you did, it’s just . . .”

She resisted the urge to tell them that sometimes grown-ups just can’t live together anymore, but they still loved each other very much. Well, she resisted the urge because she might have been able to start the sentence, but the thought of the last phrase made her ill. She didn’t think she could manage to say it without crying, and Spud was doing quite enough of that.

From the depths of his black trouser pocket he produced an enormous white handkerchief and gave his nose a thunderous blow.

“We ain’t gonna see you again,” Maleficarum said. “Why can’t you stay? Don’t you want to be wif us?”

“This is so pitiful I may cry,” Tera muttered. Megan ignored her.

“Of course I want to be with you.” Now it was an after-school special on Coping With Divorce. Or it would be, if they were getting divorced, which they weren’t, because one had to be married to get a divorce, and they weren’t.

And obviously they never would be. She forced herself to ignore the stab of pain and focus. “But I— It’s not that simple. There are some things I want out of life and some things he wants out of life, and we just couldn’t find a way to make those things match up, is all.”

“Don’t make any sense.” Malleus grabbed Spud’s handkerchief—Spud didn’t want to give it up, and they tussled for a second before Malleus won out—and dabbed his eyes with a clean corner of it. “If you love ’im, why can’t you make them things match up?”

“I— We just can’t. Look, guys, it’s really— I really wish this wasn’t— This isn’t what I want, it’s just the way it is.” Her eyes stung. If she could just get through this, if she could just get them out of there, she could get into the shower and have her first solid cry of the day, the first of what she felt confident would be many.

“But ’e’s miserable!” Maleficarum wailed. “Up there now, ’e is, starin’ at nuffink! You go up there, m’lady, an’ you sit an’ you work this out. We need you, we do. Can’t you just try it? For us, you know.”

This was surely the most horrible morning of her life. Punishment for what she’d done to Nick; when she looked at it that way, she deserved this and more.

“I’m sorry, guys. I really am. But I can’t. He needs to come to me if he wants to work this out. It’s complicated. But trust me, I can’t go up there.”

Spud started sobbing anew. They stood there, the four of them with their interested audience—Tera had finally stopped giggling, but a quick glance showed Megan she was still smirking—for a long moment before Maleficarum finally nodded.

“Well. I guess if you say it can’t be fixed, it can’t be fixed. But m’lady, we’re gonna miss you. Don’t know what we’ll do wifout you there.”

“You can still see me.” She knew it was lame even as she said it. Her heart hurt too bad for her to care. It had finally hit her. She wasn’t just losing Greyson; she was losing them too. And she loved them, she really did. They drove her nuts sometimes, but they were family, and she wouldn’t see them again. They were too busy to visit her even if Greyson would allow it.

Before he’d come to her room, she would have been certain he would. Now . . . probably not.

But she said it anyway. “You can come visit me anytime. I’d love to see you.”

Then she did start to cry. The brothers crowded around her, patting her, stroking her. Spud offered her his handkerchief, which she declined. “I’ll miss you, too, guys,” she managed. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

They nodded. Malleus took her hand. “Got anyfing you want us ter tell ’im?”

Only about a million things but none she thought would matter or make a difference. “Tell him I’m sorry,” she said finally. She couldn’t fault herself for her reaction to the lies, to the work issue or anything else. But she could fault herself for trying to use Nick to get back at him. For hurting both of them. “Just tell him I’m really sorry.”

Chapter 24

The other Gretnegs were seated around the table when she walked into the dining room an hour and a half later. In deference to Justine the white candles had been replaced with black ones; the pale faces of the others rose solemn from dark collars.

Megan too wore black, not that she had much choice; a plain long-sleeved, knee-length dress she thought was subdued enough to look as if she cared. Which she did, at least for the most part. She cared that the angel—she had no doubt it was the angel—had attacked another demon and had succeeded this time. She cared that Justine was dead; despite her dislike of the woman, she was still capable of being sorry. Her gaze wandered to the empty chair where Justine had sat the night before, now draped in black fabric.

But she just didn’t have room for any more sorrow. She was full.

Winston cleared his throat when she sat down. “So. We all know what’s happened?”

There were a few general nods before Baylor spoke. “I’m not actually clear on the details.”

“It was that FBI agent,” Gunnar said. “She went crazy, it appears.”

“It was the angel.” Greyson shifted in his seat; Megan saw it out of the corner of her eye. She refused to look at him. Couldn’t look at him. Just hearing his voice made her cheeks hot.