“Tell me you didn’t.”
He frowned. “Didn’t what?”
“I’m not stupid. You have to give me more credit than that, Father.” I almost hissed the word, but he and I were much too passive-aggressive for spitting and name-calling. “You set him up, didn’t you? You implemented the cameras so you could see how he would behave with Katherine’s cronies. You wanted him to switch sides. You wanted him to be the traitor. Go on, admit it—you wanted him to prove you right, didn’t you?”
“Perhaps I did.”
My shoulders sagged. “Why? Did you do it for me?”
“I do everything for you, Astrid. I may not always be the best at showing it, but you are my first priority in all things,” he said, his tone desperate. “Every day, I wake up and I thank my lucky stars that you’re still with us.”
“That doesn’t mean you can dictate what I do with my life. You can’t save me from experience, and I wouldn’t want you to.” I knew he meant well, but this overprotective malarkey was not a pleasant attribute in him. To set someone up, all in the name of getting him away from your daughter—that was borderline despicable, and I didn’t like the sour taste it left in my mouth. My father was better than that, and yet he had stooped to the lowest of the low.
“I’m looking out for you,” he insisted.
“No, you’re doing what you always do. You’re hiding me away from something that might cause me pain or suffering. If that happens, and he breaks my heart, then so be it, but I don’t think Garrett deserves to be made a pariah because he likes me.” My heart felt heavy. “Do you want me to be alone for the rest of my life?”
He perched on the edge of his desk. “I’m protective because you’re constantly in danger, Astrid. You’re vulnerable, whether you want to believe that or not.” His gaze turned sad, his face aging about ten years in front of my very eyes. “It’s not the romance that worries me—it’s the trouble that flocks to Garrett. If Katherine got to Finch, then who knows if she got to his friends, too. Garrett included. And I don’t want to put you in any kind of situation where I might have to bring you back from the dead again.”
I sighed. “I know.”
“Please, I beg of you, understand what that’s like, from my perspective: to hold your lifeless daughter in your arms and will her dead body back into existence. Once would be bad enough, but I’ve done it more than once. On the last one, I almost didn’t get to you in time… I don’t want to have to go through that again.”
Me dying while helping the coven wasn’t the only reason he’d resurrected me. As his daughter, he couldn’t have let me die. I knew that, and I knew he’d suffered because of it, but that still didn’t make this right.
“Garrett isn’t going to get me killed. He’s loyal to us,” I said.
“And until I know that for sure, until I know that he isn’t working for Katherine, I need you to understand why you have to keep your distance. All I’m asking is a temporary hiatus, until we can be one-hundred-percent certain about his loyalties.”
“I already am.”
Alton’s head dipped to his chest. “Well, I’m not.”
“Why can’t you just be happy for me? I wouldn’t mind a little fatherly bluster, but this is ridiculous,” I said, unable to rein in my temper a moment longer. “Mom likes him, so why can’t you?”
Alton’s head snapped back up. “Wait… what? Your mother has met him?”
“Garrett doesn’t know he’s met her, but yes, they’ve been introduced,” I replied. “I took him to the shop the other day, and the two of them got on just fine. Afterwards, she told me she liked him—that she felt good energy coming off him. You know she’s honest to a fault. She tells people how it is, even when magicals come into Cabot’s to try and convince her that their Esprit is the freaking Cullinan diamond when it’s actually a raggedy old watch. Some want the fancy things, and she tells them they can’t have it, even though it costs her a bunch in revenue.” Esprits simply didn’t work like that, of course. You received the one you were destined for, not necessarily the one you wanted.
My mother was Henrietta Cabot, of Waterfront Park’s famed Esprit shop. A non-magical like me, she had an exceptional affinity for all things ancient and powerful, whether it be spells or Esprits. I admired her immensely for that, as people often mistook her for having magical abilities when, in fact, it was merely excellent instinct. Before she met Alton, she had traded in rare artifacts and one-of-a-kind jewelry, often traveling the world to uncover new pieces for the private collections she purchased items for. I was pretty sure she might have been a tomb raider, once upon a time, but she’d never disclosed anything like that to me. See, women like us need a bit of mystique.
“Your mom probably knew I’d dislike him,” Alton said after a brief pause. “She’d do anything to make me look bad.”
“No, she wouldn’t. She’d never try to muddy your name, and you know it.”
Alton and my mom had me after a brief fling. They hadn’t lasted longer than a few months, but Alton had stayed by her side during the pregnancy and had insisted on being involved in my life. Even though they weren’t together, they both loved me, and I didn’t hold any resentment against either of them for not being able to make it work. That was life. It was messy and wonderful, and I still got to have two loving parents, even if one was terrible at showing it in ordinary ways.
He looked wounded. “Maybe not, but I always end up as the bad cop.”
“It’s not Mom’s fault that you hate Garrett because of what he is. She hasn’t turned you into the bad cop—you’ve done that yourself. I bet even Isabel wouldn’t be so hard on him. Why don’t we ask her what she thinks about him, see if she sides with Mom or you?”
“She’d tell you not to get involved with boys at your age.”
“Really? You think an intelligent woman like her would just blindly side with you because you’re her husband? Come on, we both know that’s not true.” Isabel Monroe was a fearsome woman in the field of molecular science, with a sharp mind and a sharper sense of humor. Whenever our strange, mixed little family gathered at Christmas or other holidays, she was always the one to rib Alton mercilessly, to the point of making us laugh until we cried. She and my mom got on like a house on fire, which I knew worried Alton sometimes. He felt like they were ganging up on him, which was both sweet and hilarious in equal measure. The great Alton Waterhouse, reduced to a blushing wreck by his wife and the mother of his child.
“It doesn’t change my perspective on this ‘relationship’ you’re embarking on, Astrid,” he said pointedly.
“Why do you think you have the right to dictate what I do and don’t do? I know you’re my father, but it’s not like you act very fatherly most of the time. I feel like your employee most days, rather than your daughter.” I tried to stuff my bitter words back down my throat, but I’d opened the floodgates now. “The point is, you don’t get to have a say in whom I choose to date, because—and I mean very little offense by this—you are the last person that anyone should take romantic advice from.” I paused for breath. “Before Isabel, your track record of relationships wasn’t exactly great. You can’t stop people from living their lives or making their own mistakes. Life happens. I want mine to.”
He sighed wearily. “I know I made some mistakes and didn’t exactly have much longevity in the romance department, but I was never an actual danger to anyone. Garrett may well be.”
“He isn’t!” I barked, almost clapping my hands over my mouth to stop the words coming out so harshly.
“Astrid, I—”
“All I’m asking is that you see things from my side,” I interrupted. “Garrett has done nothing to deserve this kind of suspicion. He’s honest and loyal, and he’s proven it in the field. Your setup should be the one thing that shows you he’s innocent. You have it on film, for goodness’ sake.”
Alton shrugged. “Maybe he was told to pretend.”
“Now you’re being entirely stupid.” I laughed ti
ghtly. “You didn’t get the results you wanted, so now you’re trying to find faults that don’t exist. Please, please, please, remove the Shapeshifters’ body cams. Not for my benefit, but for the benefit of everyone whose trust you’ve broken. You promised them you wouldn’t reveal their identities and yet you went and slapped cameras on them. You put targets on them, Father. They put their faith in you and you let them down.”
“I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve said this to you, Astrid, but if Garrett has nothing to hide, then he shouldn’t be so opposed to the cameras,” he retorted. “Don’t you think that’s the slightest bit suspicious?”
“No. I see a group of hurt people who’ve lost their trust in you. You’ve singled them out—of course they’re going to resist it.”
“See, this is why this relationship troubles me so much. It has blinded you. The other Shapeshifters haven’t uttered a word of complaint about the cams. They understand the necessity. Yet Garrett keeps griping on about it. Why is he the only one with a problem?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because they’re scared to stand up to you and Garrett isn’t?” I narrowed my eyes at my father. “Maybe you’re the one who’s hiding something, since you seem so eager to spread the blame and suspicion elsewhere. What secrets are you keeping, Father?”
“Now you’re the one being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” In a sudden burst of uncharacteristic impulse, I strode behind his desk and rummaged around, making a show of lifting all his documents and sifting through his files. I pulled open every drawer and dumped folders on the desk, flipping through in a dramatic fashion. He hurried around to my side and put himself between me and the desk, blocking my path.
“Enough!” he said, his tone cold. “You’re above childish behavior like this.”
“Apparently I’m not, seeing as I need to be babysat through a camera. You hate that you’ve lost control of me—that’s all this is.”
He huffed out a breath and turned his back to me, blocking my view. Straining to get a better look, I caught sight of something glinting under his hand as he swiped it off the desk and into the top drawer. A folded letter went with it. I frowned at the sight. Why would he do that? Why would he slip two objects into the drawer, and not the rest? I’d said it in vengeful jest, but now I had the unsettling feeling that he was hiding something from me.
“The cameras are staying, Astrid. They’re there for the good of everyone. If a small group have to endure temporary discomfort, then we’ve got to accept that as collateral. If Garrett continues to have a problem, he can come and speak to me himself, instead of using you as a go-between.”
“I won’t stop seeing him.”
He whirled around to face me. “We’ll see.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means… it means I won’t stop watching out for you. If you go against my wishes, then that’s your prerogative, but don’t think I’ll stop trying to protect you from anything that I see as a danger. Until I know for sure that Garrett isn’t working for Katherine, he fits into that category. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”
“And I’ll continue to fight for my right to live my life, on my own terms.”
“As you wish, Astrid.” He leaned back against the desk, using his body to cover the top drawer. “You should go. I’ve got a lot to do today.”
Without another word, I walked out from behind the desk and crossed the room. At the door, I turned and flashed a disappointed look at him over my shoulder, before heading out into the hallway.
As I walked back to my room, a thought came into my head. It wasn’t one I wanted to dwell on, but it popped up anyway, as thoughts are wont to do: I wondered if there might ever come a time when I was forced to pick sides.
And if that happens… whose side will I choose?
Eight
Harley
When I was halfway through the Banquet Hall to meet up with Jacob for lunch, my phone vibrated. Pulling it out from my back pocket, a flicker of surprise ran through me at the name on the screen. Ryann? I hadn’t spoken to the Smiths’ daughter—my soul sister—in so long. A twinge of guilt churned in my stomach. Mrs. Smith had asked me to give Ryann a call sometime, when I’d last been to their house, but things had gotten so out of hand that it’d slipped my mind completely. Part of me wanted to let it ring, given how busy we were, but I knew I had to answer. I tapped the answer-call button and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hello, stranger!” Ryann’s cheerful voice echoed through. It brought an instant smile to my face. Man, it was good to hear from her. “I thought I’d give you a call to make sure you’re still alive.” Her tone carried a hint of a laugh.
“Yep, still breathing,” I replied. Just barely.
“Glad to hear it! So, how’s the fancy new job? They treating you well? Any perks?”
“It’s a lot of work. Long hours, no breaks, busy, busy, busy all the time.”
“Sounds awful.” She chuckled. “You sure you don’t want to go back to the casino life?”
I smiled. “Nah, it’s not too bad, aside from all that. The people are nice, and I feel like I’m actually doing something worthwhile, you know? Handing in dirty players for cheating at the tables wasn’t exactly a calling.”
“At least tell me the money’s good?”
“It’s… uh, decent.” Even without taking my shifts in the Fleet Science Center’s archives, I’d been getting paid the same salary. I guessed running around, risking my life, was worth the same amount of dough.
“It better be,” she replied.
“How’s school? UCLA still treating you good?”
She groaned. “Speaking of too much hard work and not enough fun. It’s fine, but I think I’m taking too many classes. Seriously, who knew college would be so exhausting? If I don’t have twelve coffees a day, I end up in Anthropology 101 instead of Advanced Environmental Law, and that’s when I’m not grabbing dinner in the library so I can read about tort law and human rights violations.”
I laughed. “You need to get out more.”
“Says you,” she teased.
“Fair point. Anyway, a little birdie tells me there’s a guy on the horizon? You can’t be that busy with tort law if there’s some delicious specimen taking up your time.”
She giggled. “Let me guess. Mom asked you to do some spy work?”
“I told her I couldn’t break sisterhood confidentiality.”
“See, this is why I love you!” she said.
“So, spill the beans—who is he, what does he do, what does he look like?”
“His name is Adam Sirieux. He’s French-Canadian, six-one, dark hair, blue eyes, swims for the college team. He’s in pre-med and wants to be a pediatrician.”
“Nah, no way—he doesn’t sound real. You’ve got to give me the real goods. You can’t just go making guys up,” I joked. He sounded perfect.
She chuckled. “I promise you, he’s one-hundred-percent real. He’s romantic, too. He took me out the other night to this fancy restaurant, and showed up in this three-piece suit with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He asked me if I thought he’d gone overboard and had me laughing all the way through three courses.”
“Ugh, where can I get me one of those?”
“Canada, apparently.”
I grinned. “Ah, the Great White North, home of the last gentlemen.”
“So, no luck where you are? No saucy security agents?”
My cheeks burned. “Well… there is one guy.”
“I knew it!”
“Hey, it’s nothing to get all excited over. He’s nice, and I like him, but he’s… well, he’s not exactly showy with his feelings. He blows hot and cold all the time. It’s pretty confusing, to be honest.”
“I wouldn’t bother if I were you,” she said. “If a guy doesn’t tell you he likes you or make you feel special, he’s usually not worth your time.”
I frowned. “He’s a good guy. He’s just more of the broody, silent type. I guess we can’t all have romantic, fairy-tale guys sweeping us off our feet.”
“You deserve one, though.”
“Honestly, I think you’d like him if you met him,” I said defensively.
“What does he look like?”
I smiled. “Tall, green eyes, dark curly hair. A bit Irish. The accent comes out when he’s angry or passionate about something.”
“Ooh, okay, you’re persuading me,” she replied. “Irish is good.”
“He’s smart, loyal, funny when he wants to be. And he’s really freaking sexy. Like, I can’t even begin to explain how sexy he is.” I gulped, thinking of him shirtless in bed, staring at me in surprise. Oh, and his lips… dammit, they were so close! I almost wished I’d kissed him, back in the Luis Paoletti Room.
“Why don’t you tell him how you feel?” she suggested. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“I lose a friendship.”
“No way. If he likes you, even if it’s just in a friendly way, you admitting you like him isn’t going to change that. You’re too cool to cast aside, believe me. It might be awkward for a bit, but then you’ll both get over it. And, if he does like you, then everything will be peaches and cream, and you can find out just how sexy he really is,” she said, a wink in her voice.
Honestly, it felt so good to have a normal conversation for a little while. A girly, gossipy talk about boys and school. No monsters, no terrifying Katherine, no heartbreak, no sadness, just a good old-fashioned chat with my foster sister. A girl who knew me better than a lot of people, even in this place.
“Maybe,” I said.
“No maybe about it—you have to! If he isn’t going to make the move, then you’ve got to be the one to have the balls,” she replied sternly.
“But I want him to be the one with the balls.”
She howled with laughter. “Let’s hope he is, huh? Anyway, you can update me on it all when I see you in Hawaii for family vacay time. You’re still coming, right? Mom didn’t mention it when I spoke to her. Did you manage to get the time off?”
Harley Merlin 4: Harley Merlin and the First Ritual Page 8
