Bacon woke me. Okay, the bacon didn’t physically reach out and shake me until my eyes opened, but the smell did set my stomach growling. Sometime during the day, I had found an empty corner and huddled there with an afghan tangled around my legs. Judging by the stacked trunks blurred through my puffy eyelids, I was still in the living room.

“Coffee?” a towering god asked while extending a cup of ambrosia toward me.

“Yes,” I rasped, voice ruined. “Thanks.”

The god, who also happened to smell like bacon and resemble Linus, sat beside me.

“You’re going to wrinkle your clothes.”

“That’s what irons are for,” he countered. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my heart has forgotten its rhythm.” After I gulped down a scalding mouthful, my eyes remembered how to open fully, and I raked my gaze over Linus. “How about you?”

“You saved my life,” he said simply.

“Just returning the favor.”

“Thanks all the same.” A faint curl of his lips betrayed his amusement. “We make a good team.”

“We do.” I rested my shoulder against his, and after a moment, he leaned back. “All good partnerships ought to require both people to take turns being the damsel, like a team-building exercise.” I tilted my head back and smiled. “I’ll take you dress shopping next week. Though, I don’t know where we’ll find one of those pointy hat and veil combos.”

“Hennin.”

“Are you an encyclopedia spelled into a human skin? You can tell me. I’ll keep your secret.”

A flush stained the high curves of his cheeks pink, and the daisy under his left eye turned downright rosy.

“Amelie’s called twelve times since I woke at dusk.” Somehow, he made it into a question.

“I don’t want to talk to her.” I sipped my coffee, letting its warmth seep into me. “I don’t want to see her, either.”

“That’s going to be difficult when you live together,” he pointed out, not unkindly.

“I have a proposal.” The reflexive closing of my throat warned tears were queued and ready to fly at a moment’s notice, but I swallowed through the tight knot. “Poor choice of words.”

After removing the fresh kitchen towel from his shoulder, he pressed it into my hands. “I’m listening.”

“Move in with me.”

Linus startled so hard, he banged his head against the wall. “What?”

“I can’t do this.” A strain entered my voice that hadn’t been there earlier. “I can’t look at her without seeing him, and I can’t see him right now if I want to pull myself back from this.” I peered up at Linus. “I’m a hot mess.” I pushed out a sigh. “I need to be around someone who doesn’t add to that.”

“Woolly won’t approve.”

That wasn’t a no. I could work with that.

“She didn’t want to accommodate Amelie in the first place. I twisted her arm. After this? Woolly will evict her. Forcibly if necessary. Amelie will be lucky if her great-great-grandkids can step foot inside my house without getting expelled.” I swirled the remains of my drink, careful not to slosh over the lip. “This is going to end one of two ways. Either I get a new roommate, or you do.”

“Woolly can be reasoned with,” he began. “You don’t have to invite me in. I’m content staying here.”

“She loved Boaz too,” I told Linus. “They were friends. She trusted him.” I set my cup down before the anger threatening the edge of my thoughts forced me to smash it on principle. “Boaz—” I choked on the name, “—is all the family Amelie’s got left. He’s going to want to visit her, and Woolly will not grant him entrance. Odds are high she’ll toss Amelie out on her keister as soon as she learns what happened.”

“These aren’t the terms you agreed to,” he said softly. “We’ll have to talk to my mother.”

“Can we not and say we did?” I left each of our encounters feeling like I had lost something.

“We have to do this the right way, or you’ll be penalized, and Amelie will become a ward of the Society.”

The temptation to wipe my hands clean of her glittered like a gem in my mind’s eye, but I wasn’t that cruel. I hadn’t offered her sanctuary only to pull the rug from under her. Despite all she had done to me, for me, I loved her enough to spare her that fate.

“I don’t want to go to the Lyceum.”

“The only alternative is bringing Mother here.”

“I’ll pull on some pants.”

“I’ll pack the bacon.”

I patted his arm. “Good man.”

* * *

City hall was as quiet as a tomb, for which I was thankful. While we took the elevator down to the hidden subfloor that housed the Lyceum, a transformation overcame Linus. His shoulders wound tighter, his chin jutted higher, and his expression flattened into a flawless mask of austerity. His ability to morph into this Linus, the version I considered Scion Lawson, fascinated me as much as it worried me.

Planting myself in front of him, I braced my hands on his chest and rolled up on my tiptoes. “Are you still in there?”

“I’m right here.” He didn’t break character, and the cut of his blue eyes—edging toward black—chilled me. “I’m still me.”

“You don’t look like you.” A shiver tripped down my spine. “I don’t like this side of you.”

“Are you implying you like others?” The teasing question didn’t belong on those lips.

“I like you,” I allowed. “The real you.”

“Thank you.” His cool fingers traced the bend of one knuckle. “I’m glad one of us knows who he is anymore.”

A perky ding signaled our arrival, and I followed him out into the hall tiled in blood-red marble.

The usual bustle was absent tonight, and I breathed a sigh of relief. We didn’t even have to knock on the Grande Dame’s door, though I wasn’t sure if that was because Linus had called ahead while I got dressed or if the Grande Dame didn’t stand on ceremony when she was alone.

Linus strolled right up to the threshold, the tips of his loafers toeing the invisible line. “Mother.”

“Darling.” Her head popped up, and joy suffused her features. “You’re home.”

“Atlanta is my home now,” he told her in no uncertain terms.

“An old habit.” All elegance, she rose and circled her desk until she could embrace him. “And you’ve brought Grier.” She enveloped me in a hug that smelled and felt so much like Maud, fresh tears welled then dripped on her shoulder. “Is everything all right?”

“We should all sit,” Linus said, steering the conversation as he shut the door behind him.

“Of course, dear.” The Grande Dame reclaimed her chair, and I took the one across from her. “Now, what’s all this about?”

“There’s an issue with Amelie Madison.” He perched on the edge of her desk. “We need to relocate her.”

“I worried this might happen.” She clucked her tongue. “Has there been more trouble? Is she attempting to remove her bindings? Has Grier or Woolworth House been harmed?”

“No,” Linus was quick to assure her, for which I was grateful. “She’s been a model employee.”

A pucker gathered across her forehead. “Then I fail to see the issue.”

“Boaz is engaged,” I croaked, wiping my face dry only for it to dampen again.

The Grande Dame appeared more perplexed than ever. It was almost funny. Well, not really.

Cocking her head, she studied me. “Surely that’s good—”

“Mother,” Linus bit out the word to curb whatever she had been about to say.

Huffing out a sigh, she stilled. “Explain why this is a bad thing and how it affects the indenture.”

“Woolworth House has developed an attachment to Boaz over the years.” Linus traced the woodgrain beneath him with a fingertip. “She believed that, thanks to Grier’s childhood infatuation with him, the two of them would marry.”

Nothing short of him lunging across the desk and clamping his hand over her mouth could have stopped her guffaw from escaping. “Surely not.”

“Woolly is unaware of the change in Boaz’s circumstances,” he continued, without acknowledging her outburst, “and it’s our concern that she will react badly, perhaps violently, to this news.”

As much as I wanted to protest on Woolly’s behalf, she did have a mercenary streak. Linus could attest to that.

“Where do you propose we relocate her?” Her amusement waned into annoyance. “She is Grier’s charge. The fact her brother will marry doesn’t change that. Grier made a pact with the Society, and it cannot be broken.”

“We understand,” he demurred. “For her safety, all we ask is that she be confined to the carriage house rather than the main house.”

“No.” Her scowl could have cut glass. “She is a danger to all those around her. I respect Grier for sparing her in the name of friendship, such loyalty is commendable, but I will not allow her to live with my son.”

“Grier has offered to allow me to move into Woolworth House, with her.”

A stillness permeated the room. Shock, perhaps. Clearly, the Grande Dame hadn’t anticipated this.

“Oh, well, that’s a horse of a different color.” Her expression smoothed into a flawless mask her son had learned to mimic well. “I have no issue with you taking up residence in your old room at Woolworth House.”

No imagination was required to picture her clapping her hands under her desk. Her intention had always been to have Linus bunk with me, the better to spy on me. But after all Linus and I had been through, I was willing to extend the man a little faith. Maybe even a lot.

“We’ll have to secure the carriage house, but we can make the transition by the end of the week,” he told her, all business. “You’re welcome to send a representative to oversee the transfer if you’d like.”

“I trust you to spearhead this.” She smiled softly at him. “Keep me updated on your progress, and I’ll notify the council at our next meeting.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“Thank you,” I echoed.

The Grande Dame reached for my hand, and I had no choice but to let her hold it after the allowance she made for me. “I am sorry you’re hurt, Grier, but surely you must see this is why Maud was so opposed to the pairing.”

Maud had never been in favor of the match, true, but she had never said or done anything to make me think she minded our friendship as long as Boaz kept seeing me as kid-sister material. Had he taken an interest, sure, then she would have stepped in and put a stop to our flirtations. But he had never given her any cause for alarm on that point.

“Maud wanted more for you.” She cut her eyes to Linus. “She wanted—”

“Mother,” Linus said in a soft voice that spoke of exhaustion on a topic not worth revisiting.

The Grande Dame exhaled through pursed lips but caged whatever else she had to say behind her teeth.

That might have had more to do with the Elite who appeared in her doorway than him, but I’d take it.

“We’ll leave you to your work,” he said formally. “Thank you for your time.”

“We’ll discuss your trip at dinner on Sunday, darling,” she said in dismissal before turning her attention to the new arrival.

Linus cupped my elbow, hauled me to my feet, and all but dragged me from the room.

Exercising that newfound trust between us, I didn’t question him but followed his lead.

Not until the elevator doors swished closed behind us did I break. “What was that about?”

“You didn’t recognize him?” Linus dropped my arm and got busy texting. “He was one of the Elite who responded to Amelie’s call for help.”

“He’s going to report to her on the incident,” I groaned. “She’ll force us to go back and make a statement.”

“She’ll have to catch us first.” Linus flashed a mischievous smile as we reached the lobby, and took me by the hand. He tugged me after him right up to the curb where a white van idled. Behind the wheel, Tony saluted with a can of energy drink. “Hurry before she sends him after us.”

I wanted to laugh, goddess knows I did, but I didn’t have enough light in me to manage. What smidgen of levity I possessed shriveled when reality struck home. “I have to break the news to Woolly.”

“How do you want to handle it?” Linus exhaled once the door rolled shut behind us. “Do you want me there, or will that make things worse?”

“It’s best if I do it alone. She might lash out, and I don’t want you to make an easy target for her.” I chewed on my bottom lip, mentally curating a to-do list. “We’ll have to completely empty the carriage house before Amelie moves in. There are too many artifacts stored there, and the trunks in the living room have to go too.”

“Can you wait and tell her when we’re ready?”

“The wards are too strong.” I shook my head. “Woolly senses my emotions when I’m in contact with her, and I’m a crap actress. I won’t be able to fake it around Amelie. Not this time. Woolly will realize something happened, and she won’t rest until I confess.”

Nodding like he expected as much, Linus sat back. “We’ll postpone your lessons for the time being. It’s more important to get Amelie resettled.”

“The Kinase pack needs debriefing too.” But how to call them to me? Here boy would get me bitten, I was sure. “They might want to sleep under the stars, but I still have to feed them and teach them the rules. I can’t have them accidentally eating the wrong people.”

Though, to be fair, most of my visitors were of the edible variety.

In all my life, I can’t remember ever dreading the moment when Woolly came into view, but the sight of her columns set my gut roiling.

I didn’t want to break the news about Boaz to her. I wanted to keep on pretending like always. That this girl too would pass, that one day he would wake up and realize I was it for him. But engagements were serious business, and Odette was right. Divorce did not exist within the Society. Marriage was a contract that couldn’t be voided.

Boaz had taken a crucial step toward an irrevocable bond, and nothing I said or did would change that.

It was time I let him go. For good.

After the van parked, I glanced over at Linus. “Wish me luck?”

“Good luck.” The worry pinching his expression didn’t sell it.

While Linus squared up with Tony, I dragged my feet across the lawn and trudged onto the porch.

Woolly lit up the second I touched her planks, fear and worry and dread blazing through our connection. Guilt that I hadn’t come home the previous night weighed me down, but seeing Amelie after Boaz made his big announcement would have shattered me when I had already been too close to breaking.

One night later, I wasn’t in much better shape, but I could speak without tears garbling my words. Maybe.

Aware of Amelie drifting through the house like a specter, I selected the front porch swing for the chat and sat, waiting until Woolly had gathered all her awareness to that point to begin.

“I’ve got some bad news, girl.”

The boards groaned beneath my feet.

“I know how much you love Boaz. I love him too.” Though now I would never get a chance to be in love with him. “But I need to not see him for a while.”

The light above the door flared in question.

There was nothing for it but to put it all out there. “He’s engaged.”

The bulb shattered, pieces raining down onto the planks.

“His family needs him to marry well for them to save face after Amelie.”

More tiny explosions, more glass tinkling as it hit and skittered.

Carving out my heart would hurt less than admitting, “He’s doing the right thing for the Pritchards.” The window beside me bowed, ready to crack, but I pressed my palm against the pane. “You can’t hurt yourself over this. He’s not worth it.”

Face paler than usual, Oscar materialized at my eye level. “What’s wrong with Woolly?”

The wards, that constant melody playing in my head when I was home these days, turned into a jumble of discordant notes, a primal screech of agony voiced the only way she knew how.

“One of her friends let her down,” I told him. “She’s upset, but she’ll be okay.”

“I’m her friend.” He puffed out his chest. “I won’t ever let her down.”

“I know you won’t, kiddo.” I ruffled his hair. “We need a minute alone. Girl stuff. I’ll be up to tuck you in in a little bit.”

After casting the house one last worried glance, he walked through a wall and vanished.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, stroking the siding in the hopes it might calm her. “He told me last night. That’s why I stayed in the carriage house. I couldn’t…” I sucked in a breath. “I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t face Amelie. Not when it hurt so much.”

Given a target for her anger, the point of her consciousness arrowed toward Amelie. A surge of magic that made the hairs on my nape tingle struck her, encapsulated her, then expelled her out onto the porch with me. Woolly shoved and shoved until Amelie stumbled down the steps, her wide eyes seeking me out as she clung to the railing that Woolly turned into coiled snakes with rusty metal fangs, ready to strike out if she touched her again.

“I can’t leave the house,” Amelie pleaded. “The sentinels will come for me. I can’t go back.”

“Woolly, stop.” I leaned my forehead against the cool metal chain suspending the swing. “Listen to me.”

The pressure on Amelie didn’t bow outward again, but neither did it release.

“I spoke to the Grande Dame tonight. She agreed to let Amelie move into the carriage house.”

Amelie paled. “But Linus—”

“I want Linus to move in with us,” I told the old house, ignoring Amelie. “We’re responsible for them both, and right now he’s what I need.” Thinking of Neely and the likelihood Cruz would ever let me see him again, I admitted, “He’s the only friend I’ve got right now.”

“Grier…” Amelie bumped against the barrier when she tried to reach me. “I’m your friend.”

“No, you’re really not.” I straightened and faced her. “You knew what he was planning. This whole time, he was confiding in you. You should have told me. You promised you would always pick me if things went south, and you lied. You chose him.” A lightning bolt of comprehension struck me. “That’s why you’ve been so weird around Odette. You were afraid she would glimpse the truth and out you both.”

“He’s all the family I’ve got left,” she whispered, not bothering to deny it. “I can’t lose him too.”

“I get that. Things have changed since you made that promise. Everything has changed.” I blinked until my vision cleared. “That’s why I asked permission to relocate you when it would be so much easier to hand you over to them.” I checked with Woolly before telling Amelie in no uncertain terms, “Boaz is no longer welcome in this house. The only way you’ll see him while you’re serving out your indenture is if you take the carriage house.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“I get that a lot,” I said on a watery laugh.

“After Maud died—”

“You and me? We’re not going there again. You can’t base your life choices on what happened to me.”

“You don’t understand what it was like,” she protested.

“You’re right.” I let my anger off its leash. “I can’t imagine how it must have felt to stay at home, with my family—who are all safe—and keep living my life the way I chose.” I tasted metal and realized I had bitten my cheek to hold back after all. “I don’t doubt you thought about me, I don’t doubt that you hurt for me, but you can’t use my past as a crutch to lean on every time you make a bad judgment call.”

“I wanted to protect you,” she pleaded. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Meiko’s warning rang in my ears: There’s nothing wrong with lying until you start telling them to yourself.

“You made a grab for power that almost killed me.” It had cost several vampires their lives, and it was past time she owned her truth. “This? This hurts worse than that. This feels like someone punched through my ribs, fisted my heart, and squished it to a bloody pulp.” I worked my jaw. “I’m not saying a heads-up would have made this hurt any less, but it would have given me someone to lean on, a shoulder to cry on. You should have been the one to hold me when I broke apart, not Linus.”

“You can’t trust him,” she protested. “He’s the Grande Dame’s son.”

“The thing I’ve learned about Linus is no one trusts him. Everyone doubts his motives. His actions are examined under a microscope, his every word dissected. No one believes there’s any good in him. They all see him as the Grande Dame’s son or the Lawson Scion or the Potentate of Atlanta.” So many masks, I was sure I had forgotten a few of them. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m guilty too. I have a hard time trusting anyone, believing in anything, but I like to think I’ve earned my paranoia.”

Tears slid unchecked down her cheeks, glistening in the moonlight as she listened without protest.

“Do you know who has been there for me every single time I needed someone? Not my best friend. Not my almost-boyfriend. Linus.” It hurt looking at her, so I stared over her head. “Is he in his mother’s pocket? I don’t know. Had you asked me the same question about Boaz last week, I would have said hell no. But I would have been wrong. Goddess knows, I’m tired of being wrong. I’m tired period. The people I’ve trusted most of my life have betrayed me. How can he possibly do any worse?”

“You’re right.” She wiped her cheeks dry. “We should have done better by you. I should have done better. You are—were—my best friend, and I wasn’t there for you. I let you walk into this when I should have walked through it with you. I put my needs, and my brother’s, above yours.” She pressed her palm against the barrier. “I’ll go upstairs and pack my things, if you let me, Woolly.”

The old house didn’t budge.

“Woolly, Linus and I need a couple of days to clear out the carriage house. She must stay with us until then. We have no choice.”

The nearest window exploded in a fit of pique, the shards falling harmlessly to the porch when she could have shredded Amelie to ribbons with them. Lowering the barrier, she frog-marched Amelie into the foyer, but Amelie fought her there.

“I’m starting to understand,” she whispered, “the burden of someone loving you too much.”

“You’re getting a second chance,” I countered, fresh out of sympathy for the night. “Don’t waste it.”

With a concentrated shove of magic, Woolly forced Amelie into motion, guiding her up the stairs to her bedroom where she slammed the door behind her.

Needing a stronger connection to Woolly, I picked out a spot free of debris then slid my back down the wall to sit on the porch, stroking the boards with my fingertips, wishing there was some better way to lessen the sting.

“We’re going to be okay,” I promised her. “We’ve still got each other.”

A cool wind sighed through the eaves, and the house moaned around me.

Shards of glass shimmered on the weathered planks like tears, and mine glided down my nose to mingle with hers.

Short of losing Maud, I had never hurt so much in my life.

Hours slipped through my fingers while Woolly and I grieved together. I stared across the lawn at the pinkening sky, waiting on the sun to rise so I could proclaim this miserable night over and done.

When the first rays of a new day caressed my face, the light touch was a benediction.

In embracing the new day, I accepted my new reality.

I had enemies. Ones I had earned and not inherited. Life had just gotten that much more complicated.

The Master, always so careful with me, had lost his patience. The Marchands, who might have proven to be advantageous allies, had declared themselves my enemies. And I had as good as killed my own cousin.

A hot sting behind my eyes warned the tank wasn’t on empty yet, and yep, fresh tears snaked down my cheeks to drip onto my shirt.

A throat cleared from some distance away.

Lashes gloopy and mashed together, I forced my eyes open.

Linus stood in the grass near the steps, hands shoved into his pockets. “Is there anything I can do? For either of you?”

Woolly’s consciousness stirred itself to drift down the steps toward him, and he must have felt the viscosity in the air. He reached out a hand, his palm facing up in supplication, and she enveloped him to the wrist in magic before tugging him slowly to where I sat. As if that small effort had been too much when she had already grieved so hard, she winked out and left me alone with him.

“I think she just gave you her blessing.” I patted the planks beside me. “Join me?”

Moving carefully, he lowered himself beside me, his gaze darting around like he expected Woolly to change her mind and expel him into the garden. “How did she take the news?”

“About as well as expected.” I let my head fall back as sleep tugged on my limbs. “She popped every bulb in the house as far as I can tell, and that’s only what I can see from out here.”

He angled his head toward me. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m…” Leaning forward, I pinched a jagged sliver of glass between my fingers then held it glinting in the sunlight. “The part of me that believed in happily-ever-afters and true love triumphing against all odds is crushed to learn sometimes you fall in love with a prince who is actually a frog.” I didn’t fight Linus when he took the sharp point from my fingers before I cut myself. “Mostly I’m glad I can stop wondering.”

“About?”

“How he kisses, how he tastes, all the stupid things I always wanted to know.” It made me pathetic to admit it, but I hoped Linus wouldn’t hold it against me. “I got to be his for a little while, and he got to be mine. It’s what I always wanted, and I got to experience it. That makes me lucky, right? Not pathetic?”

Linus stretched his arm across my shoulders, and I curled against his side, resting my head on his chest.

Exhaustion tugged on me, leading me down a path I hated to follow but was helpless to resist.

“That makes you very lucky,” he murmured. “Not all of us get to know how that feels.”

Maybe Boaz was right. Maybe I was a masochist. Maybe pain was how I coped.

Or maybe I just wanted to sit here and ache with someone who understood how even the ends of your hair hurt when you pined for someone who either didn’t—or couldn’t—reciprocate. “I saw your office.”

“Meiko?”

“Meiko.”

“You’ve been my muse for a long time,” he admitted, his heart thudding faster under my cheek.

The sketchbook Boaz had stolen from him when we were kids proved his words. “Why me?”

“You’re not the only one allowed to carry a torch for the unobtainable ideal.”

“That almost sounds romantic.” I felt bad about wiping snot on his shirt now. “I had no clue.” A yawn cracked my jaw that I muffled against him. “You never said a word.”

“You had your heart set on Boaz.” His cool fingers stroked down my arm. “You always have.”

“Hearts are stupid.” I fisted his shirt as my damp lashes kissed my cheeks and stayed there. “Life would have been easier if I had fallen for you.”

As blessed darkness swirled away my consciousness, my breaths growing longer and slower, he brushed his cool lips against my temple and whispered, so soft I might have imagined it, “There’s still time.”