He nodded. That’s always how it was. The threats to pull the support of his family were nothing new. “Yeah, I understand.” For the sake of his grandmother, he said nothing else.

For a brief moment, Annika’s face was a stony mask. Then her expression softened. “I don’t make these directives, Creek. They come from higher up. You must know that.” She turned and bowed her head slightly at Mawmaw. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Jumper.”

Mawmaw nodded back. “And you, Annika. Thank you for your gift.”

Creek wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant. He watched Annika leave, then went behind her and locked the door. That hadn’t gone as bad as he’d suspected.

His grandmother stood, brushed a few cake crumbs off her lap, and walked toward him. “That’s a rare one there.”

“Annika?”

She nodded. “Not often you meet a basilisk.”

“You know what she is?”

She laughed softly. “Child, I know more than you think I do.”

That much he did know. “What did you mean thanking her for a gift?”

Mawmaw patted the pocket of her patchwork vest. “She gave me a few scales. You can make some powerful charms with those.” She raised her brows above the heavy rims of her glasses. “Well, the woman ate some of my cake. Fair is fair.”

Only Mawmaw could accomplish something like that. He shook his head. “You’re amazing.”

“Yes, I am.” She took his hand and led him back toward the stairs, where she sat on the spool again. “We need to talk.”

“I knew you weren’t here just to bring me cake.”

She shook her head, her eyes growing very serious. “The soulless woman came to see me.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

How long is she going to shower?” Doc stared at the ceiling. Chrysabelle had come in smelling worse than she had when she’d first gone outside—like smoke and sewage and the faintest hint of vampire. Why, he couldn’t guess. Plus she’d been upstairs a long time. Longer than it took to get clean. Something was up.

“Leave her alone,” Fi said. She’d been cranky since he’d told her about the deal with Heaven and having to give her an heir to make her an ex. Couldn’t say he blamed Fi, but it wasn’t like he’d made the rules either.

“You want to talk about this some more?” He wagged his finger back and forth between them.

Fi planted herself on the couch with a bowl of cheese puffs. “No.” She answered without looking at him, her eyes straight ahead on the holovision.

Like a movie was going to make them forget that Mal was dead. Doc sat beside her, happy that Velimai, who was also giving him the cold shoulder since the whole Heaven thing, wasn’t between them. “Not talking about it ain’t gonna make it go away.”

She glared at him. “Why not? Taking ketamine seems to be your answer for your fire problem, so why can’t I medicate with silence?”

“That’s cold. And completely different.”

She went back to watching TV. “Is it?”

“Maybe I should go outside and hang with Mortalis.” The shadeux had been out there since Creek left, making sure no one else got through security and disturbed Chrysabelle.

“Sure, then you won’t have to discuss this with me.” She shook her head and dropped the handful of cheese puffs back into the bowl.

He went still, watching her closely. If Fi had lost her appetite, something was seriously wrong. This was more than her being mad. He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go outside and figure this out.”

She tried to pull away, but he held on. They had to work this out, or they’d both go crazy. Crazier. Reluctantly, she set the bowl of cheese puffs down and followed him.

Mortalis leaned on one of the front porch pillars, facing the entry gate. He turned as they came out. A black cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth.

“You smoke?” Doc asked.

“Nasty habit,” Mortalis mumbled around the butt. He reached up, took the cigarette between his first two fingers, and exhaled a thin stream of pale red smoke, filling the air with the bittersweet scent of burned fruit. “Only do it when I’m stressed.” He tapped the ash from the end and studied it. “It’s nequam, kind of the fae version of tobacco. Nyssa doesn’t like it and Dominic forbids it when I’m working.” He took another drag, tipped his head back, and blew out a series of tight rings. “You know vampires and smoke.”

And with that, the memory of what had happened to Mal hung heavier than the scent of the nequam. Fi whimpered softly and dropped her head.

Mortalis rubbed his eyes with his other hand. “Damn it. I didn’t mean it that way.” He dropped the cigarette and ground out the cherry with the sole of his boot. “You didn’t come out here to talk about my bad habits. I’ll leave you alone.” With a nod to Doc, he went back inside.

The nequam aroma lingered.

Fi shoved a hand through her long brown hair, but it fell back into place. “I can’t do this. I feel like I’m losing it. First you and this thing with Heaven, now Mal. I’m coming apart from the inside.”

He took hold of her arms. “I know, baby. I know. Losing Mal is just…” There weren’t words to express how losing the person who’d saved your life made you feel. “That’s why we got to fix this thing with us. And I’m trying to do that.”