“You want me to give a chance to the demigod that you’re all terrified of?” I snorted. “Yeah, seems like a genius idea. I’ll get right on it.”
Gage held my hand as I stepped onto the dock. “He’s a good Protector, Maya. Maybe even the best the region has ever had, no matter what he seems to think.”
“I don’t need him. I’m a good protector too. Ask anyone in the Neighborhood.”
“Just because you don’t need him doesn’t mean you can’t want him.” Gage wiggled his eyebrows.
“Thanks for the ride, Gage. Have a good night.”
I walked away from the dock with Gage’s words ringing in my ears. The problem was that Ididwant Vale, but I couldn’t afford that kind of attachment to someone else. And I definitely couldn’t afford that kind of attachment to someone on the mainland. For better or worse, I belonged on Evermore. The more time I spent in Savannah, the more attention I’d draw. I had to stick to the island like a barnacle to a whale. Besides, I couldn’t get involved with someone based on a lie or the entire bedrock of the relationship would be rotten to the core. That wouldn’t be fair to Vale and we both knew it.
“You can’t always get what you want, Gage,” I said to the empty air. “Somebody even wrote a song about it.”
I would go home, wash away all evidence of the day, and put all thoughts of the demigod out of my mind. I was better off like the island itself—separate and alone.
Chapter
Eighteen
Jinx was the first one to greet me the next morning, quickly followed by a text message from Dr. Adam to tell me that Ronald was awake and asking for me.
A tiny thrill shot through me as I raced to get dressed. I may not have stopped the Coranians for good, but Ronald was alive and well. That had to count for something.
I drove my golf cart to Terrapin at maximum speed, calling out greetings to Neighbors along the way. It was good to be home again.
To be safe.
I hurried to Ronald’s condo, eager to see the elf in reality instead of his dream.
“All hail, the conquering hero,” Ronald declared, as I entered the living room. The elf was fully dressed and had traded his bed for the sofa. There was a soft glow to his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears. He looked like a new man.
“How do you feel, Ronald?”
“Alive, thanks to you.” He glanced at Dr. Adam. “Both of you.”
“And that cane of yours.” I sat on the ottoman and faced him. “I’d love to know the story behind it when you’re feeling up to it.”
He recoiled slightly. “Is it against the rules? Will you take it from me?”
“No one’s taking it from you,” I said. “I promise.”
Relief flooded his face. “I’m already grieving one loss. I don’t think I could manage another.” He averted his gaze. “Is it wrong to miss her, even knowing what she was?”
“It’s completely understandable.” Leanne had hooked him like a drug. It would take time to cleanse his system of all traces of the intoxicating faerie.
“It’s perfectly acceptable to grieve her,” Dr. Adam said. “She was important to you, and now she’s gone.”
“But she shouldn’t have been—important, I mean. Leanne was like worshipping a false god. She wasn’t who she claimed to be. The relationship wasn’t even real.”
“It was to you,” Dr. Adam said, “and that’s what matters.”
Ronald sniffed. “I appreciate you. You could’ve let me wither away to a shell, but you both stuck with me.”
“Have you considered Date Night at the clubhouse?” Dr. Adam asked. “It’s like speed dating, except slower.”
“Slower? Now you’re speaking my language,” Ronald said, brightening.
“There are two rows of participants,” Dr. Adam began. “Depending on your social orientation, you sit down with someone for ten minutes each and continue along the row. By the end of the evening, you either plan a date with someone you’ve met, or you’ve spent a lovely evening getting to know your Neighbors.”
