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Surprise flickers in her eyes. I wait for the condemnation I know I would feel in her position, but there’s only worry. “He’s a Faerie?” I don’t even have time to answer before she says, “Are you being safe?”
I nod. “We haven’t—didn’t get that far, but I was prepared.” Eclipsa found me the herbs mortal women need to keep from getting pregnant from a Fae.
“Did he hurt you?” she asks, her voice harder, making it clear she wouldn’t hesitate to rain hell on him if he did.
“Does my heart count?”
“Ah, I see. The heart’s trickier than flesh.” She takes a slice of banana bread, munching it as she thinks. “So you’re in love with this Faerie?”
How does she do that? I nod again, wishing I could deny it. The Fae killed her family. Loving one feels like a betrayal.
“But he doesn’t love you back?”
“No.” My chest aches, and I settle back on the bed. “He wanted to take things to the next level physically, he even pissed off his dad and possibly endangered his life for me, but . . .” I clear emotion from my voice. “But he couldn’t love me. Not the way I wanted.” “Ah.” Finished with her bread, she dusts her hands off, still deep in thought. “Did I ever tell you that my daughter had a different father than my late husband?”
I shake my head, glad for the shift in conversation.
“I got pregnant with her right out of high school. Unfortunately, her father wasn’t a very nice man. When I fled to Vi’s with a shiner and marks around my neck, Vi finally told me if I stayed with him, she’d kill him. The day I left with Grace and a trash bag of my belongings was the best day of my life. A few years later, I met Paul. That kind, quiet man took over as her daddy, even if she never called him that word.”
“I wish I could have met Grace.” I think of the portrait of the happy girl in equestrian riding gear downstairs. Her vibrant eyes and mischievous smile.
“I do too.” Her lips press together, as if torn between pride and anguish over her memory. “When Grace and Paul disappeared, they weren’t at a cattle auction with Vi’s husband and boys. I tell people that because it’s easier than the truth.”
I shift on the bed, barely able to hide my surprise.
“The truth is, Grace’s deadbeat father had asked to meet her. He hadn’t been in her life for five years. I let Grace decide, and she chose to meet him. So my husband, the man who had taken care of another man’s little girl knowing she would never call him dad, offered to drive her fifteen hours to meet him. He explained that he would stay as long as it took, because when that man broke his little girl’s heart, he was going to be there to pick up the pieces.”
“Zinnia, I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”
Zinnia’s eyes fill with tears. “Paul was a man of few words. I’m not sure he ever told Grace that he loved her, but she knew. Not because of his words, but his actions.”
I’m crying again. Both of us a hot mess of tears and snot.
“How do you not hate the Fae?” I ask.
“Child, there’s enough hate in this world as is. I won’t add to it.” She brushes a strand of my hair from my face. “I don’t know this Faerie boy you love, but I do know you. You wouldn’t give your heart to someone unworthy.” She sighs. “Sometimes our minds won’t let us say what our heart feels.”
“You’re saying he might be capable of love?”
“I’m saying, love comes in many different forms. The last time Vi ever told anyone she loved them, her teenage boys and husband were rushing out the door. I don’t expect she’ll ever say those words again, and if you tried to make her she’d tell you to piss off and die, but that woman loves you. Did you know last year after you were expelled, she marched through the Shimmer and straight to that school and told those Fae pricks where they could stick it?”
I snort-laugh through my tears. “I had no idea.”
She mutters, “That woman will be the death of me someday. But while I’m still alive, she’s my sister and I love her—just don’t ever tell her that.”
“Deal.” I lean against her soft shoulder. “How did I luck out all those years ago when you saved me?”
Emotion trembles in her voice as she shakes her head, saying, “Summer, we saved each other. I was looking for one child, and God gave me another. Although how he could allow your parents to sell you to Fae traders is beyond me.”
My heart spikes in my chest. “What? My parents died, remember?”
Zinnia turns to me, her eyes brimming with agony. “Summer, somewhere along the line, you started believing that, and I let you. But they’re alive. They own a pawn shop somewhere in Fort Worth. I look them up every few years, praying God had the decency to strike them with lightning or have them both run over by a semi, but he does work in mysterious ways.”
I’m trembling. My memories of them were taken by my soulstone, but I was so sure they had died.
“Why did they sell me?” I whisper.
“The last time I contacted the woman, she said you were a changeling. That you were born with brown eyes and then died. When the doctors revived you, your eyes were a strange greenish hazel. She tried to love you, but you were different than the other children. She said animals reacted strangely around you.” Zinnia shakes her head. “The Lightmare had just happened and humans were scared. Every child that had a birthmark or acted different was deemed a changeling back then.”
