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12
VIOLET
They strolled down the streets just before dawn to deliver the last batch of medicine to Myna. The veil of the night was a perfect cover for a Sídhe, and those bastards were a more dangerous foe to encounter than a Society member.
Energy buzzed through her: she wanted to meet this little girl, even though her home was on the other side of town.
Gavin cut through a narrow gate. Weeds grew on either side of an uneven pathway, brown and partially hidden by snow. Violet lifted her coat’s collar, shielding herself from the cool breeze that picked up as they neared the house.
He’d told her about the symbol Scoria’s citizens had adopted that signified the break of peace between humans and shifters. The triangle was still painted on the wooden door, an ominous white mark.
“I thought you’d explained to them that shifters aren’t to blame here?” she whispered.
Gavin knocked twice and rubbed his hands together before blowing hot air into them. “I did. Not sure they believed me.”
To judge by the emblem, they hadn’t.
Candlelight flickered through the fogged windows, and steps clicked behind the door. Its hinges creaked as it cracked open, revealing a man a head shorter than Gavin and at least twice his age. He wore a thick, brown-striped robe and a scowl that matched Violet’s for intensity. “Mr. Luna.” His polite and raspy tone was stark against the quiet night. “We weren’t expecting you so early.”
Violet stepped inside the house. The iron wood stove sizzled, a pot of tea hissing on top of it.
“Who’s there?” a woman called from upstairs. She moved down the steps moments later, holding a candelabra. The child’s mother, perhaps?
“Mr. Gavin is leaving town today, and he wants to check on Myna,” the man answered. He dipped into a dark corner and re-emerged with two mugs filled with tea leaves to pick up the pot from the stove.
“I see. She will be sad that you’re going.” The mother wet her lips as she shifted nervously. Violet couldn’t settle either, and a sense of unease crawled up her back, demanding that she leave. These people appeared every bit as uneasy about her presence in their home.
The woman’s blue gaze fell on her. “And who is this, Harry?” she asked her husband in Obsidian.
“Do I look like I know, Belle? She showed up with the healer.”
Violet wondered if they usually spoke in their native language when Gavin was around. He didn’t seem to know what they were saying, nor care much about it as he pulled things out of his spacious bag.
She could answer them and reveal that she could understand everything. And yet, the part of her that was used to spying for the Crown told her she should stay quiet. Keep her cards close to her chest and listen to all of their potentially incriminating conversations.
“Who is this young lady, Mr. Gavin?” the woman asked.
“Oh, this is my wife, Violet.”
“We have heard much about you.” Belle closed her robe with one hand, pushing her long golden braid back from where it lay over her chest. “Are you able to leave right now, in this dreadful weather? We heard you’ve been ill as well.”
“Try not to stare our hosts down, dearest,” Gavin whispered into Violet’s ear. “Not everyone’s out to get you.” His nearness sent goosebumps over her neck. Her heart stuttered, and blood rushed to her cheeks.
Ha! Tell that to her former commander, who’d left her in the hands of Julius knowing what he was like. Or to the vipers who’d sold her to the Crows, who’d been her best friends. She peeled her lips over her teeth in what she hoped was a smile, but to judge by their pale faces, it came out as more of a snarl. Oh well, she’d tried. “I’m fine now.”
Gavin scoffed, but he was smiling as he walked past her toward Belle. “Is it too early to see Myna?”
“She’s still asleep, and we’re trying not to wake her. It’s difficult for her to rest with the pain.”
“I understand. I don’t want to bother her either, and I don’t expect her to be worse than she was yesterday. Use the potions I’m leaving here.” Gavin glanced up at the second floor, and his brows met in the middle with a sadness that was hard to miss. “We should leave you to rest. Please tell her I wish her well and take her to your regular healer by the end of the week.”
“Will she be fine during the full moon?” Harry asked, shuffling closer to them. “Are we going to have to chain her so she doesn’t hurt anyone?”
Silence descended upon them, and Violet was sure her face mirrored Gavin’s wide-eyed and open-mouthed expression.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “Myna isn’t cursed anymore. If she were, she wouldn’t be alive. Youths don’t survive the bite of a Sídhe.”
“But we’ve seen werewolf children,” Belle argued, one arm pressed defensively across her stomach.
