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“Hey, you didn’t tell me it would leave a mark!”
“It’ll fade,” she said dismissively. “But its power won’t.Now come. The Council is waiting. Everyone is so excited to meet you.”
True to Adelaide’s word, the mark on my wrist faded and my initiation involved no slain animals or satanic rites. Rather, it involved a short swearing-in ceremony during which I was given a grimoire of novice spells including a family curse reversal. Afterward there was a good deal of champagne and pleasant chatter with a group of lovely, sophisticated women—some of whom I recognized as prominent figures in publishing, television, and journalism—and a few men, all tall, good-looking blonds who came from the London club now aligned with the Grove. One of the women was Jen Davies. She was, I realized, the dark-haired woman I’d glimpsed at the Oak Bar the last time I’d been to the club. Toward the end of the cocktail hour she managed to get me aside for a word.
“I wanted you to know that I’m sorry about outing your friend to the press. It was my initiation community service and I thought, fine, why not expose a lying upper-class prat. But since I’ve gotten to know her…”
“Know her?” I asked.
“I’ve been visiting her at McLean. She’s doing very well and attending a writing workshop there. Working on a ‘novel’ now—a fantasy novel about witches and fairies. She just got a brilliant contract. Irony is, every word is true, but it’ll sell as fiction.”
I knew I had to visit Phoenix. She was owed an explanation. It hadn’t been my incubus who had driven her over the edge, it had been Mara, feeding on her until she was weakened. And the demon that Phoenix had seen outside the day she was taken away to McLean—well, that was probably Mara, too.
“Anyway,” Jen continued, “I wasn’t happy about being made an instrument of torture. A lot of the younger membersaren’t happy with the old ways here: the knee-jerk prejudice against fairies and demons, the whole anti-immigration stance. We’ve formed a small ad hoc group to effect change. If you’re interest in joining…”
By the end of the evening I’d agreed to attend an informal (and secret) meeting of the group Jen called “Sapling.” As I made my way unsteadily up the stairs to my room my head was spinning with champagne and the multitudinous warring allegiances I’d have to balance in the coming months. My life was going to be very complicated. When I opened the door to my room I realized justhowcomplicated. Sitting in the blue moiré chair by the window, sipping a glass of champagne, was Anton Volkov.
I opened my mouth to scream, but then closed it. Who would come to my aid here at the Grove? Then I noticed that Anton Volkov was wearing a tie clip embossed with the insignia of the Grove.
“You’re a member?” I asked coming into the room. “But I thought the Grove didn’t admit supernatural creatures—”
“They don’t admit fairies and demons. We nocturnals remained neutral during the Great Division. As a result we’ve been able to provide many useful services for both groups. But I’m not a member, I’m merely anassociate.”
“You’re the informant!” I said, sinking down onto the foot of the bed.
“I prefer to think of myself as aliaisonbetween the Grove and Fairwick.”
“Uh-huh. Then what are you doing here? Have you come to collect on our deal?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking. Anton was close enough that I could feel the magnetism of his presence. And he was close enough that it would be the work of a minute for him to attack and drain me dry. I realized that I didn’t want to be attacked and drained dry. I wanted to live.
“Look,” I said, “you told me you wouldn’t do anything I didn’t agree to and I don’t want to…get bitten…or become a vampire.”
Anton smiled and leaned forward in his chair. He touched one finger to my throat, just below my ear, and traced a line down to my collarbone. I shivered.
“Pity…but that’s not what I was going to ask for. What I want…what we, the nocturnals of Fairwick, want is a spokesperson at the Grove. An ally who will attest to our ‘good behavior.’ You’ll be reporting to the Grove on the activities at Fairwick. We merely want to be sure you report that we are behaving according to the guidelines of the Grove. That we only drink from adult, willing nonglamoured volunteers and that we’re not turning anyone into vampires.”
“But if youareobeying all those rules, why do you need to make a special deal with me to report the truth?”
He shrugged and put down his empty champagne glass. I noticed that there were red lip marks on the brim of the glass as if left by lipstick, but I didn’t think they came from lipstick.
“Let’s just say that an extra word in our favor from a doorkeeper might come in handy in the future. We suspect that relations between the Grove and Fairwick are heading for a crisis. Wefearthat the Grove’s power is growing, while Fairwick’s is waning. We don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”
He got to his feet and extended his hand. “What do you say? Do we have a deal?”
I took his hand, which was icy to the touch. I considered whether this was something I desired. And then I realized how much it would piss off my grandmother.
“Yes,” I told him. “We’ve got a deal.”
Driving back to Fairwick the next day through the pouring rain I thought about all the secrets I would have to keep in the coming months: Frank’s cover, Soheila’s succubus nature, mymembership at the Grove, the deal I’d made with the vampires…For a girl who’d always valued the truth I’d be telling a lot of lies. But then, as my grandmother had said, I had qualities I’d never suspected in myself.
But at least I got to tell one truth. I’d spent half the night reading my new grimoire, paying special attention to the section on reversing a family curse. I’d been surprised and relieved to find out that it didn’t involve any bloody sacrifices or burnt offerings. It required only that I speak one sentence to Nicky and mean it:
I forgive the pain your family gave to my family and release you from the pain we’ve given you.
Pretty simple. Nicky would probably think I’d gone off my rocker when I said it.
I pulled up in front of Honeysuckle House, thinking about the power of forgiveness and the pain we unknowingly cause others. In my head I heard the last question Liam had asked me.
Is a lie really the worst thing if it’s told out of love?
