Page 82 of Veil of Blood and Bone

“You’re not alone. And you’re not the only one dealing with something terrible.”

I balance on my elbows, head sagging toward my knees. “I suppose you’d know? Being a few thousand years old?”

“Atrocious things do tend to accumulate in all that time,” he says.

His arrival, all of theirs, into my life has been abrupt. Within the space of forty eight hours, three men have barrel-assed into my small, routine existence.

Three dudes, two trolls, and one epileptic episode.

Or I should say three dudes, two demolished town landmarks, and one me desperately trying to get answers that aren’t batshit crazy.

“She’s not taking this well.” Wren doesn’t bother disguising his curiosity.

As though I’m something to stare at, consider, catalogue.

“Would you be?” Nicholas snaps.

Don’t cry. Don’t laugh.

I’ve lived through challenges before. Straightening, I suck in a breath and then freeze when a round of thunder shudders the walls.

Weather batters the windowpanes like it’s striving to get inside.

“Is that another...?” I trail off.

Nicholas’s attention darts between me and the window. “It’s not.”

The gruffness of his voice can’t disguise the worry.

“Then again, there are worse things out there than trolls,” Wren supplies.

“You’re not helping,” Nicholas growls, a starved animal.

“We agreed not to hide anything from her. She’s on the verge of losing it. Which would be better? A neat lie or an ugly truth?”

I shake my head, wrapping my arms around my torso. I’ve had no choice but to hold it all together. Every aspect of my life and Audra’s.

Because who else was going to be the strong one after Mom?

Who else was going to make sure that Audra got the attention she needed when the doctor visits were over an hour drive away from here? There was never a question of moving after she died.

We settled here and took the good with the many bad.

“The truth.” Nicholas snaps fangs at Wren’s shadows. “She’ll calm. Give her a moment.”

Only a moment? A moment isn’t enough after a lifetime spent contorting myself into an acceptable shape. A caregiver. A substitute.

Faltering now hurts more than me and Audra. It affects everyone in our sphere.

There’s suddenly more at stake. My next slow, steadying breath does nothing.

And I can’t check myself in for a nice, relaxing stay at the psych ward, like that’s somehow one of my top five vacation destinations.

Nicholas pulls his palm from the base of my neck, and my hand flies up to grip him by the wrist and keep him there.

There’s no time in our schedule for meltdowns.

Then again, there’s no time to fight trolls or have three strange men with magic powers in my cramped apartment. I’m surprised our combined weight hasn’t broken through the floor.