For most kids, outgrowing that self-centeredness is a normal part of development. We learn that the earth, sadly, does not revolve around us, that others have needs and emotions, too. For some, that connection never really clicks. The world is full of people with a degree of sociopathy, and I'll include myself in that.
I can remember, as a child, coveting another's toys, and needing to actively stop and imagine my parents' voices, explaining to me that the other child was just as attached to her toys--and just as deserving of them--as I was to mine. Even then, I think I refrained from stealing only because I didn't want to upset my parents.
I would love to say I've outgrown that. Just last month, though, I watched an elderly driver valiantly try to parallel park in the last street spot, and I'd had to recall my parents' voices to keep from ducking in with my little Maserati.
The Walshes had tried to instill that voice in Seanna. According to Rose, Seanna seemed to get it. She told the story of watching four-year-old Seanna at a town picnic, salivating over a chocolate gargoyle won by a cousin. When the cousin walked away from her prize, Seanna had realized no one seemed to be watching, and then, with some effort, had pulled herself away and run to join the other kids.
"It seemed as if she was learning," Rose said. "There were other indications, too, that convinced us she'd be fine. And then...she wasn't."
"Did she gradually get worse?" I asked. "Or did it seem sudden?"
Rose took a long drink of her spiked tea, looking exhausted. "I don't even know anymore. We thought it was sudden, and then we thought maybe we'd been fooling ourselves that she was improving, and then...after a while, it was like putting our fingers in dike holes. We were so busy stopping the flood that we had no time to wonder when or how it started."
"But if you were to give me a rough estimate," I prodded.
"Around puberty. We thought it was that--typical teen rebellion. She ran away shortly after, and then her parents died and--" Rose's voice hitched. "She didn't care. That was the last straw for everyone else. Her parents died in a car accident while searching for her, and she couldn't even bother coming to the funeral. The rest of the family gave up."
"Except you."
Rose reached for a cookie. She didn't eat it. Just stared down at it. "No, even I gave up. I think that's part of what happened, what went so wrong with Seanna. I...I had my own issues. My life just...imploded? Exploded? All I know is that I wasn't there for Seanna. I had my personal meltdown, ended up in prison. After I made parole, I came home for her."
"To be here for her."
A twist of Rose's lips. "Too little, too late. Next thing I knew, she had Gabriel, and when I saw her again, I barely recognized her. I kept telling myself that skipping her parents' funeral was a misunderstanding, that deep down she loved them too much to intentionally miss it. I was wrong. The Seanna I met after I came home was exactly the sort of person who'd do that. She'd..."
"Lost something."
"Lost everything. Everything that mattered."
--
I stopped by Veronica's next. The ponytailed young woman who opened the door looked like a teenager. She was lamia, a Greek subtype of fae that cannot age their glamours. For lamiae, there are only two forms: the teen girl and their true one, a snakelike human.
When Pepper saw it was me, she blinked, and her eyes reverted to slitted pupils. Past trauma had left her unable to hold her glamour, but under Veronica's care--and with the fae energy of Cainsville--she was making progress. When I'd first met her four months earlier, she couldn't speak. Now she greeted me with, "Hey, come on in. It's been a while."
"We've been--"
"Busy, I know. That wasn't an accusation, Matil-- Liv. Sorry."
"You know you can call me that," I said as I walked in. "Only you, though."
"Which is why I try not to. It just slips."
The damage to Pepper had gone deeper than her ability to hold her shape. Not unlike Lloergan, she'd been psychically damaged. In her case, it caused mental impairment. That, too, had vastly improved, but if she stayed outside Cainsville too long, she started to revert. So she was here indefinitely, as a "Greek exchange student."
"If you're looking for Veronica, she's at another town meeting. I can let her know you're here. I'm sure she'd appreciate the excuse to leave early."
"Please."
Pepper texted Veronica.
"Give her five," she said. "Hot chocolate? No, you're a grown-up. I should offer you coffee."
I smiled. "Hot chocolate is fine."
Pepper loved her hot cocoa as much as I loved my mochas. In her case, "hot" was the biggest attraction. Her glamour issues meant that--like a snake--she was cold-blooded. That was improving, but the heat in the house was cranked to near eighty and she still wore a hoodie.
As she fixed the drinks, I looked at the papers and books spread over the kitchen table.
"That's our project," she said. "Mine and Veronica's. We're compiling a history of lamiae for her records. Patrick has lent us his books, which help bring back my memories--hereditary and personal."
"Sounds like a good project."
"Keeps me busy. Especially up here." She tapped her head and then handed me a steaming mug. "Patrick doesn't have a lot on Greek fae." She chewed her lip. "Which is an awkward...What's the word? When you switch topics?"
"Segue."
"Right. It's an awkward segue to something else. About Greek fae. Veronica says there are dryads in town."
"Does that worry you?"
She shook her head. "No, no. Dryads are cool. A little silly sometimes, but smarter than they seem. I thought maybe I could talk to them. I'd like to. I'm just not sure they'd want to talk to me. Dryads and lamiae might both be Greek, but we aren't exactly kissing cousins." Her face scrunched up. "Is that the term?"
"Close enough."
"They've probably also heard what Melanie did, which means they really aren't going to want to talk to me."
"You had nothing to do with that."
A wry smile. "Besides being the person she did it for? Murdered our own sister lamiae to get me into Cainsville? I still can't--" She sucked in breath. "Old song. Everyone's sick of it by now."
"It hurts. It's always going to hurt. But the dryads won't hold that against you, and I think meeting them would be fine. In fact, that's where I was going with Veronica. How about you text her back and tell her to meet us there?"
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I left Pepper on the apartment stoop with Grace, ostensibly while I made sure Seanna was awake, but really to warn the dryads that Pepper was with me.
When I walked in, I found Alexios and Helia on the couch, huddled in urgent conversation, Alexios sounding upset, Helia trying to calm him.
I backed out quickly, but not before they saw me, Helia rising with, "Liv. Come in."
"I should have knocked. Sorry."
"No, we're fine," Helia said.
Alexios gave her a look that challenged that, and said, "Helia is tired. I'd like her to rest. You and I can speak."
Helia shook her head. "I want--"
"No."
She took her mate's arm and squeezed it, murmuring, "This is important to me."
His jaw worked, giving me a flash of the ancient fae behind his glamour, but he nodded and murmured, "I know, agapi mou."
"I don't actually need anything from you guys," I said. "I'm just bringing Veronica to see Seanna. We'll be fine, if she's still under your influence."
"She is," Helia said. "But there is something more, is there not?"
"It can wait."
"Might as well just tell her," Alexios said. "She's as stubborn as a mule, and she'll tire herself more pestering you."
"I brought someone who'd like to speak to you."
I started to explain, but Helia cut in with, "The little lamia. We know the story. I was going to ask if we could see her."
"I know you aren't exactly fond of lamiae..."
"We were being rude earlier. Fae have
prejudices, just as humans do, and we must remind ourselves of that and speak with more care. Please bring her up. We'd be delighted to meet her. There are refreshments in the kitchen. I'll make her something."
"I will make her something," Alexios said firmly.
"A hot drink would be appreciated," I said. "She has difficulty holding her glamour and regulating her temperature."
"Poor thing," Helia said. "She's as damaged as the hound."
"Best not say that in front of her," Alexios said. "I think it would be rude."
She made a face at him, and he squeezed her shoulder, gently steering her back to the couch. "Sit and play hostess. I'll make hot tea for our guest."
--
By the time I got back to Pepper, Veronica had arrived. We all went upstairs, where Helia greeted Pepper with, "My mate is fixing tea, so we may play proper hosts. And, as proper hosts, I will invite you to leave your glamour at the door, along with your jacket, and make yourself comfortable."
Pepper smiled and thanked Helia, relaxing with obvious relief.
Veronica and I went into the bedroom, where Seanna was sleeping. I closed the door behind us. Then I told Veronica what I was looking for. At first she gave a start, and I think she was about to say that it wasn't possible. Then she thought for a moment and said, "Yes, I suppose we should."
Seanna was in a deep sleep and stayed that way as Veronica gently examined her. Three times Veronica said, "I'm not finding anything, Liv." Three times I urged her to keep looking, suggesting new places.
Finally, she stopped, holding aside a lock of Seanna's hair, and said, "Do you have--?" and I handed her the scissors I'd brought.
Veronica clipped a quarter-sized spot, trimming closer and closer, until only scalp remained. And there we saw what looked like a red birthmark. The mark of the sluagh.
--
We'd moved to an empty apartment now, Veronica and Grace and I, our voices lowered as we talked.
"You were right," I said to Grace after we explained. "Seanna is soul-reft."
Veronica shook her head. "Being marked doesn't mean they've taken what passes for a soul. It means they will, on her death."
"But they already have, in a way," I said. "An advance on payment. Rose says Seanna changed around the time she hit puberty. She was always self-centered. Always more fae than most. But there was humanity in her...and then there wasn't, and I bet if we lined up the exact date, it'd coincide with the time you guys made that deal with the sluagh."
Veronica's lips worked, silently calculating. Then she said, "Yes, it does."
"So that's how they got a mother for your Gwynn. Find a girl more fae than human. Mark her and take her nub of a conscience. Make her fully fae."
"I wouldn't say--" Grace began.
"Unruffle your feathers, old friend," Veronica said. "Liv is correct. The difference is that fae are accustomed to the lack of what one might call humanity. Seanna was not prepared for that. We failed to see what had happened and therefore failed to help her. We abandoned her, as much--and as unwittingly--as we did her son."
"I'm not laying blame," I said. "I'm saying this is what we have, and we need to deal with it. The sluagh marked Seanna and took her conscience, which left her vulnerable to their control. She became their marionette, fully open to their manipulation. They could set up her encounter with Patrick. They could convince her to get pregnant, claiming it was a way to blackmail him. They obviously have the power to make sure one time was enough to get her knocked up. They fulfilled their bargain with you by stealing one of your own."
"Stealing her from under our very noses," Grace muttered. "You were right, Veronica. We should never have made that deal. Damn Walter and Ida for talking me into it. If I had cast my vote with yours--"
"The motion would still have passed. As Liv says, this is not the time for blame. It's the time for fixing our mistakes. We're going to need to keep Seanna here longer. If she's marked--"
"Yes, yes, I know." Grace grumbled under her breath but said, "Letting her go wouldn't be right." She glared at me. "See? I do know right from wrong."
I was about to comment when my cell phone rang. It was Gabriel.
I answered and said, "Hey, yeah, sorry I haven't come home yet. I'm chasing down a few things."
"I presumed that, and I wouldn't bother you, but Ricky thought you should know this immediately." Even if I don't agree, his tone added. "Pamela has been taken to the hospital."
"What?" I shifted the phone to my other ear and moved into the next room. "Is she okay?"
His pause told me she wasn't.
"Is it serious?" I said. "Was she attacked again?"
"I don't know. She was found unconscious in the shower. When the prison medical staff couldn't revive her, she was rushed to the hospital, where they are still assessing her condition."
"Has she regained consciousness?"
"No. There's no outward sign of injury and no evidence of a stroke or heart attack. They're assessing. That's all we know at this point."
He paused. Waiting to see if I wanted to go to the hospital. He would never suggest it, because that might imply an obligation that he didn't believe I should feel.
"I should go see her," I said.
"The hospital has agreed to keep us informed. I will gladly take you, but if you mean you should, as in--"
"I'd like to," I said. "I'd rather get answers than wait for them."
"Understood. However, you should consider..." He trailed off.
"Should consider what, Gabriel?"
"Nothing. You're right. This is both efficient and productive. I'll pick you up as soon as you're ready."
--
I dreaded telling Gabriel about Seanna. Fortunately, I was able to avoid it for now--he was preoccupied, deciding whether he should tell me something. Finally, he said, "About the last time Pamela was injured..."
"When she was stabbed by another inmate."
"Yes." He cleared his throat. "After the fact, I conducted basic inquiries into the matter, which led me to believe...it may not have unfolded as she claimed."
"She wasn't actually attacked."
"No, it does seem she was."
"But she staged it, didn't she?"
"I believe so," he said. "Pamela has no history of altercations with other inmates, and she very deliberately provoked one known to be unstable and to possess a makeshift blade. She allowed the attack to progress just far enough to require hospitalization and then handily pinned the other woman."
"Damn."
"Pamela may not appear an intimidating adversary, but, unlike Todd, she has not avoided trouble in prison through the use of natural charm. She learned several forms of martial arts early in her incarceration."
"Oh, I didn't mean I'm surprised she could stop her attacker. I'm expressing admiration for one hell of a scheme. That takes some serious nerve."
"Yes, my mother could take lessons from yours, and I'll join you in unwilling but genuine admiration."
"And the reason you're telling me this now is that you think she's pulling the same stunt?"
He drove in silence for a minute before saying, carefully, "That seems the obvious answer. That instead of risking further injury, she's ingested something to cause the loss of consciousness."
"Something given to her by her fae sycophants."
"I hadn't thought of that, but it would explain why the doctors are baffled. What I don't understand is her goal. You two are, arguably, on the best terms you have ever been, with no recent altercations."
"She must want something else."
He shook his head. "There is an angle here, and it does involve you. I simply don't see it yet."
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Gabriel did not suggest we cancel our visit to the hospital. As always, the only real way to learn an adversary's plans was to proceed as they expected and get a look at the trap close up.
At the hospital, we were directed to the proper floor, where the nurse told us Pamela's condition was
critical and she wasn't allowed visitors.
"Critical?" I said. "We were supposed to get a call if her condition changed."
The nurse looked like a teenager. She couldn't be, obviously, but her expression was stereotypical teen, the one that said we were just a couple of adults making her life difficult and could we please move along and let her get back to texting with her friends?
"Please put down your cell phone while you're speaking to us," Gabriel said.
The nurse gave a start at that.
"Would you like me to speak slower?" he said. "Or perhaps text it to you?"
When she still didn't respond, he plucked the phone from her hand and placed it on the desk.
"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate having your full attention."
She looked around, but it was well past visiting hours and the hall was empty.
"We would like to see Pamela Larsen," Gabriel said. "We understand that she may not be permitted visitors. That is fine. Her daughter here simply wants to see her. I believe that's understandable."
"Mrs. Larsen is off-limits to anyone except medical personnel."
"Her daughter will look through a window if necessary. If she's allowed into the room, she will wear any protective garments required."
"The patient is off-limits to anyone except medical personnel."
"All right. Then may I request that you--as medical personnel--take your phone into her room and film a five-second video of the patient, to reassure her daughter. An unusual request, I'm sure, but Olivia is very concerned, and we would appreciate the effort."
A flick of his hand, and a hundred-dollar bill peeked from under her cell phone.
"I can't leave my post," she said.
"Call someone to relieve you for a restroom break."
"I can't leave--"
"Bullshit," I said. "If you're going to play the role of a twenty-year-old, you'd better act like one. No recent graduate is going to turn down an easy hundred bucks."
Her face screwed up. "What?"
"We've been through this before, and we're getting damned good at figuring out when the person blocking us is not a person at all. Do you think we've failed to notice there's no one else around? No one we can appeal to for help? Very convenient. Also? Very obvious. You fae need to get better at this game."
Gabriel nudged me. I looked to see a doctor watching us from a doorway. I thought Gabriel was telling me there was someone else around. Then I saw the total confusion on the nurse's face...and the faint smile on the doctor's before he retreated.