“Well, for a start, you can pet me. Sitting there moaning doesn’t fix anything, so at least this way you’ll have accomplished something useful.”
Despite herself, Lily felt a smile curl her lips, and she reached blindly with her other hand until she found Sir Kipling’s silky form by touch, and stroked his back as he continued.
“Second, you can make peace with the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And neither does he. And that’s okay.”
“What?” She peeked out from under her arm, brow furrowed.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about humans, it’s that life is never perfect, and the sooner you stop trying to make it that way, the sooner you’ll be happy.”
“But—”
“No buts. Now that you’ve finally had the sense to ask for my advice, you should at least close your mouth and listen to it.”
Thoroughly chastised, she obeyed.
“Ahem, as I was saying, cats know we cannot control life, so we don’t waste our time getting tied up in knots when things don’t go our way. Knots are yarn’s job, not ours. Did you know that big cats like tigers and leopards are only successful one out of every ten hunts? I read it in one of your library books. We domestic cats have a more successful track record, of course.” He paused to purr in approval. “But the point is, if we threw a fit and gave up every time a juicy bit of prey got away, we’d not only be idiots, but we’d be dead from starvation.”
Lily snorted from beneath her arm. “You? Starve? Perish the thought.”
“I admit, it is rather pleasant having a human as a reliable source of pre-prepared food. But then, my magnificence deserves no less.”
“Is that so?” She finally sat up, trying not to smile as she scratched him under the chin.
“Of course it is. But the thing you need to remember is that just because things go wrong—and they nearly always do—doesn’t mean you should stop trying. While I am not an expert on human mating behavior, I am fairly certain it is natural to dislike at least some things about the people you love. You are only human, after all.”
Lily rolled her eyes.
“As for the particulars of mating relationships, you had best talk to another human about that. We cats like to keep things simple, and since human females don’t go into heat—”
“—that’s great, thanks, Kip,” Lily cut him off hurriedly. The last thing she needed was birds-and-bees advice from her cat. “I’ll talk to, um, my mother.”
“An excellent idea. Now, you might want to go hold Sebastian’s hand.”
“What?” she asked, startled.
“His hand. Hold it. He’s about to wake up, and you wouldn’t want him to think he’s alone.” With that, he jumped down from her lap and returned to his chair, taking up an attentive posture as he stared at Sebastian’s monitor. It had indeed changed, beeping more frequently as Sebastian’s heart rate slowly increased.
Lily scrambled out of her chair and hurried to the bedside, hesitating a moment before sliding her hand into Sebastian’s and squeezing it gently. His skin was quite warm, almost hot to the touch. Concerned, she turned his hand over to examine the back and stared, brow furrowed. This was the hand that normally bore Sebastian's black fae tattoo, but the mark was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his skin was covered in scars, twisting white lines that made up a half-formed circle of what she now recognized as demonology symbols. She vaguely remembered Sebastian mentioning old scars when he'd opened up about his past to her in Melthalin. But they had always been hidden by his tattoo. So why were they showing now? Were they the reason for Sebastian's elevated temperature? Lily bit her lip, knowing such answers would have to wait. Right now he needed her support, not her curiosity.
“Sebastian? Can you hear me? It’s Lily. Wake up… please…”
A long moment of silence followed, broken only by the steady quickening of the monitor’s beep. Lily watched it nervously as the noise crescendoed, and she felt torn between staying at Sebastian’s side and calling a nurse. Suddenly, Sebastian’s eyes snapped open, wide and full of desperate terror. With a cry he tried to sit up, struggling against bandages, tubes, and wires. “Mom! Dad!”
“Calm down, Sebastian! It’s me, Lily. You’re safe. Everything’s going to be fine.”
He froze, tendons standing out in his neck and arms as if he were suppressing his fight-or-flight instinct. He didn’t seem to know where he was, and when his gaze swung to her it held no recognition, only a crazed fear that reminded her of a wild animal. “W-where am I? What happened? Where are they…” Before she could answer, a shadow passed over his face and he flinched, eyes squeezing shut, expression tight with grief. When he opened them again, they were dark with haunted awareness and he seemed to have aged ten years. “Lily…I—” he choked, unable to go on.
She squeezed his hand tighter, words just as stuck in her own throat while she searched his face for…she didn’t know what. An explanation? An apology? What she found instead was a familiar longing, naked and vulnerable, and behind it, fear. Deep wells of it, still and black below the surface of his brown eyes—eyes that now shimmered with moisture.
Since Friday night when all this had started, she had constructed dozens of speeches in her head, everything from lectures about honesty to angry tirades enumerating all the ways in which he had hurt her. But at the sight of his tears, all those speeches fell away, and she had no idea what to say. Her heart ached for him. What had it been like over a decade ago, when he’d lost his parents and been left all alone? Had he woken up in a hospital like this? And now, when his brother’s life had been threatened, he had sacrificed himself without hesitation, expecting no rescue or aid. How could she be angry at him, even if he did deserve it?
A sudden movement made her eyes flick to the side, and she watched as Sir Kipling climbed delicately onto the bed to curl up on Sebastian’s stomach, purring so loudly it was audible over the beep of the monitor.
Something strange and instinctual overcame Lily, an understanding she couldn’t explain and a visceral need she couldn’t name. Following Sir Kipling’s example, she sat on the side of the bed and carefully lay down, curled up against Sebastian’s side opposite his damaged ribs, head tucked under his chin. She laid one arm gently across his chest, fingers curling around his shoulder to hold him close as her other hand remained entwined in his. Neither of them spoke, but somehow Lily understood that now was not the time for words. Or questions. Or explanations.
At first, Sebastian didn’t react. His body was stiff, as if still paralyzed by fear. But slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxed, one arm finally snaking around her back to clutch her with the desperation of a child who was afraid to be left alone in the dark. His head tilted to one side to rest a cheek on her forehead, and he sighed—a long, weary release of breath. Lily thought she felt something wet drip onto her brow, but she didn’t move.
Yes, they needed to have words. A lot of them. Some would probably be quite harsh. But right then, at that moment, she understood Sebastian simply needed to know that he wasn’t alone.
She didn’t mean to, but despite her uncomfortable position, Sebastian’s warmth and gentle breathing did what no amount of exhaustion had been able to. For the first time in two days, peace overcame her and she slept.
The doctors wanted to keep Sebastian another twenty-four hours to monitor potential concussion damage; Sebastian wanted out of the hospital as soon as humanly possible. For once, Lily agreed with her friend. She was determined to make him rest and take time to heal, but knew she’d feel much better about leaving him in Madam Barrington’s care surrounded by powerful wards than alone in a strange hospital.
By the time they talked the doctors around, they had still exchanged less than a handful of words with each other, though Sebastian’s lips quirked in a half-hearted smirk when one of the nurses referred to Lily as his fiancée. He signed himself out under the critical eye of the hospital staff, and Lily drove him to Madam Barrington’s house. She had called ahe
ad to give her mentor time to make up a room, so the elderly wizard was waiting for them when they arrived. To Lily’s surprise and trepidation, so were Jamie and her mother. Freda was all tenderness and motherly concern, giving Sebastian an enveloping hug as soon as he crossed the threshold. Lily saw him wince at the embrace, but he did his best to return the gesture. Jamie stood behind his mother, staring wide-eyed at Sebastian’s bruised and bandaged form. Lily could tell he was bursting with questions, and she sincerely hoped their mother had already threatened him with eternal toilet-cleaning duty if he asked a single one.
Next came Madam Barrington, and Lily’s glasses almost fell off in shock when the elderly woman leaned her cane against the wall and also pulled Sebastian into a frail embrace. Lily had never seen her mentor hug anyone before. Ever. Sebastian seemed just as astonished. He stood frozen like a stone statue as his aunt stepped back and took up her cane again, her eyes overly bright.
“I am relieved to see you safe and sound, Nephew… quite relieved.” That seemed to be the extent of her ability to show affection, for then she was back to her businesslike self, except perhaps for a softness in her normally hard face. “There are a great many things we need to discuss, but first you need a hearty meal and plenty of rest. Your old room is prepared, though Frederick is staying there at the moment while I clear out his bedroom—”
“Freddie?” Sebastian almost choked, finally snapping out of his daze. “He made it? Is he all right?”
Lily felt a twinge of guilt. She had completely forgotten about Sebastian’s brother, though obviously Madam Barrington hadn’t. Sebastian had consumed her attention for the past few days and she had thought about little else.
“He is in good health—if you do not count extreme foolishness as a malady.” The old wizard’s lips thinned and her gaze narrowed, and Lily suspected it wasn’t just Sebastian’s brother she was referring to. Sebastian seemed to catch on as well, for he looked down. “As soon as Lily sent word of what had happened,” Madam Barrington continued, “I was able to confirm that your brother had returned safely to his apartment, though he would neither see nor speak to me. I was forced to…retrieve him, and convince him that it was in his best interests to remain under my protection for the time being.” Madam Barrington’s flared nostrils were the only sign of her ire, but Lily could imagine how that scene had played out. If Sebastian’s brother possessed anywhere near his little brother’s level of stubbornness, it would have been quite a show.
“Um…thanks,” Sebastian mumbled, barely managing to meet his aunt’s eye as he said it.
She nodded in acknowledgement, and something very much like guilt crept into the deepening lines around her eyes and mouth. “After your parents—” She breathed in deeply and started again. “Since the time when you were both left in my care I have not, perhaps, done all in my power to ensure your health and happiness. I thought that as long as you were protected, I had done my duty. Looking back, I believe I could have—should have—done more. Had I been a better guardian, perhaps we would not be in this predicament.”
For an endless moment, they stared into each other’s eyes, and Lily wondered what passed between them. She knew so little about their history, though with someone as strict as Madam Barrington and as troublesome as Sebastian, she could certainly guess how things had gone.
“Ethel, why don’t we go fix dinner while Lily helps Sebastian upstairs,” Freda said, breaking the silence.
“I’ll go with Lily!” Jamie exclaimed, eyes lighting up.
“You’ll do no such thing, young man. I have potatoes that need peeling and dishes that need washing. Into the kitchen, now. March.”
“But Mom,” Jamie moaned. At identical looks of icy disapproval from his mother and his teacher, he ducked his head and slouched away down the hall. Both women followed after, leaving Lily alone with Sebastian.
Though she doubted he actually needed help—his ribs were the problem, not his legs—she was more than happy to maintain physical contact as they made their slow way upstairs. She wasn’t sure why, but he seemed more relaxed when she was touching him, even if it was just her hand lightly grazing his back as he used the railing to pull himself up each creaking stair.
She followed him down the hall to the second bedroom on the left, situated at the back of the house overlooking Madam Barrington’s small yard and garden. He hesitated at the door, and Lily wondered what he was feeling. She knew he wasn’t close to his older brother, and she had always gotten the impression there was quite a bit of resentment between the two. And yet, Sebastian had risked his life for a man he neither liked nor spoke to. A strange relationship, indeed.
Not wanting to intrude, yet hating to just stand there, Lily reached forward and timidly brushed her fingertips against Sebastian’s palm. At her touch, his arm twitched in surprise, as if he’d been lost in thought and had forgotten she was there. But then he caught her slender hand in his and gripped it tightly, the heat and tenacity of his hold clear indicators she had made the right move.
With a deep breath, Sebastian finally put his palm to the door and pushed it open. The room within was high-ceilinged in the antique style of the house, but still strangely homey. There was an antique desk and chair, but the bed was more modern, made of a honey-colored wood cut in straight, no-nonsense lines. Lily could almost imagine it made up with a blue and red comforter covered in trucks, or perhaps spaceships. The thought of Sebastian as a boy brought a smile to her face, though it quickly faded as Sebastian’s tension seemed to increase and his grip became painfully tight. Freddie stood in the middle of the room, dressed in an expensive suit that looked rumpled, as if he hadn’t been able to change in several days. He was shorter and stockier than Sebastian, with neatly combed hair and ramrod straight posture in contrast to Sebastian’s habitually tangled mop and languid bearing. Still, the family resemblance between the two was obvious, even if Freddie’s pinched, condescending expression gave him the air of a corporate bigwig.
“Freddie.”
“Seb.”
Their one-word exchange hung in the air, the silence between them brittle enough to shatter with a single tap.
Lily gave a small cough and squeezed Sebastian’s sweaty hand, hoping he would relax his death grip and introduce her properly. The motion drew Freddie’s gaze and he eyed their linked hands, eyebrows lifted. Lily flushed, then gave Sebastian’s hand another squeeze, this time digging in her fingernails. That finally got his attention.
“Er, yeah. This is my, um—” He shot her a sideways glance, uncertainty in his eyes.
For once, Lily understood his nonverbal plea loud and clear: he had no idea what to call her, just as she had no idea if he were her friend, her boyfriend, or something else entirely. They had gone on some dates. He had lied to her and almost died. She had fought off witches and demons to save him. So what did that make them?
“—friend, Lily Singer,” she finished for him, surprised by her own split-second decision. They would have to figure out what they were later. For now, she settled on what she was certain of. “I’m the archives manager at Agnes Scott College and one of Madam Barrington’s students.”
She stepped forward and offered her hand, which Freddie took with only a moment’s hesitation. Good. It was nice to know someone around here had manners, even if the wary look on his face made it obvious he was less than thrilled to have anything to do with his aunt and her associates. Sebastian had spoken before of his brother’s rejection of their heritage—in keeping with their father’s wishes—and that, despite having the wizard gene himself, he lived as a mundane and tried to pretend magic didn’t exist. Getting kidnapped by witches and mind-controlled by a demon must have been upsetting, to say the least, so Lily couldn’t fault his hesitance.
His reaction to Sebastian, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.
The silence stretched on, and finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. One hand clenched at her side, the other still a prisoner to Sebastian’s tense gri
p, she fixed Freddie with an expectant look, one eyebrow raised. “Well? Aren’t you going to thank Sebastian for saving you?”
Freddie’s eyes bulged. “Thank him? If he had just done what Mother and Father had wanted and kept out of all this—this nonsense, I wouldn’t have been attacked by thugs in the first place! I am an extremely busy man and this debacle has ruined several important business deals. I should be back at my office mending the damage, but instead, I’ve been kidnapped again ‘for my own protection,’ which is complete hogwash—”
“MROOOW!”
Freddie froze, mouth working silently as he stared at Sir Kipling’s imperious form. The cat was perched on the room’s antique desk, having “appeared” there without any of them noticing. Lily smiled inwardly, being the only one in the room privy to the extremely irreverent and sarcastic insult expressed in Sir Kipling’s yowl. Her humor vanished, however, when she saw the anguish twisting Sebastian’s face, as if he really believed this had all been his fault.
A protective fury filled her chest, expanding like a balloon about to burst. And burst it did. “You, Frederick Blackwell, are the most selfish human being I have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on,” she said, eyes narrowing as she started toward Freddie, finger stabbing at his chest. Sebastian tugged her back, but the finger did its job, causing the astonished businessman to blanch. “Sebastian and Madam Barrington are virtually the only family you have left, and they have both risked their lives for you. No amount of pretending will change your DNA, so don’t you dare try to shift the blame on them when you’re the one who has been ignoring a powerful and dangerous part of your background. At least Sebastian has learned how to take care of himself, even if he’s made some mistakes along the way. And shame on you for being so disrespectful to your aunt. You have no idea what she has sacrificed for you all these years. If it weren’t for her, you’d probably be dead. Your birthright isn’t anyone’s fault, but it is someone’s responsibility: yours.” She stabbed her finger in his direction again, her fury far from abated. “Now start acting like you have a brain, or you’ll be dead by the end of the week.”
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus- Betrayal Page 17
