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With a sigh of exasperation that doesn’t quite ring true, he drops down next to me and drapes an arm around my shoulders. “It’s just like a human to think they have the power to affect everything.”
“This isn’t a joke. If it weren’t for me, Alaric would be—”
“Alaric would be exactly where he is now. One way or another, Elizabeth would have found a way to drag him back here.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand enough.” He heaves another sigh. “There are many ways to reach the same end, and there is seldom a right or wrong decision when your hand is forced.”
Pulling back, I meet his gaze and frown.
“Even if there had been one correct path,” he continues, “You are flawed. No one learns by always making the right choices, and it would be unrealistic to expect anyone to do so.”
“Perhaps you could wait to insult me until after I’ve had a chance to rest?”
He snorts. “That was not meant as an insult. Your flaws are what make you interesting. If humans weren’t too busy shunning each other for their seeming imperfections, they would see how those very things are, in fact, great strengths.”
“You won’t think so well of me when you know everything.”
“That would imply I ever had any fondness for you at all,” he says flatly, then grimaces. “Well… I didn’t. But you’re like a weed once its roots take hold—nearly impossible to get rid of—and I am no gardener.”
I send him a sidelong glance. “Isthatsupposed to be a compliment?”
Lawrence shrugs. And for a moment, my breath comes a little easier. His smile slips when his gaze drops to my hand. His fingers wrap around my wrist, gripping firmly but not painfully so. He lifts my hand in an unspoken question and leans in, searching for some physical mark to confirm his suspicion.
The skin has healed completely, leaving no trace or sign to show. Yet somehow, Lawrence manages to find the line, tracing a finger over the exact place Alaric cut. The touch leaves a trail in its wake, like sparks of static.
His brows furrow. “You are oath—” he starts haltingly, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish.
Della strides through the door holding Cherno in one hand. “Still no sign of her, but I—” She stops abruptly, eyes narrowing as she takes in our proximity. “You found her.”
CHAPTER FOUR
CLARA
Lawrence dropsmy wrist and stands.
Cherno leaps into the air and glides across the room. I stand and catch them in my cupped hands. Arinah’s small form hops through like a whisper of fog, chittering angrily and solidifying on this side. The demon rat runs to Lawrence and climbs up to his shoulder.
Cassius bursts into the room, throwing the doors shut behind him as he storms toward me. “Where in the Otherworld have you been, Clara?”
I flinch and take an involuntary step back. Cherno scuttles up my arm and clings to my neck, pulling on a lock of hair as they tangle themselves in the strands.
“She looks like demons tormented her for a week,” Della says coolly, attempting to hide the edge of worry in her tone. Not so long ago, I might have missed it.
While I am exhausted, both of their comments on my appearance make me think I’m in worse shape than I thought.
“I found her near the old armory, hiding like a feral animal.”
Cassius’s posture goes rigid. He tilts his head and takes in my appearance. His expression only solidifies the other two vampires’ remarks.
A headache is forming behind my eyes. I lower into the chair beside the fireplace and massage my temples.
“Are you injured?” Cassius moves dizzyingly fast and kneels at my feet, then takes my face in his warm hands. “What went wrong? Did Alaric find you? Why—”
I press my fingers against his mouth to silence the stream of questions. It seems to communicate my meaning well enough. He sits back on his heels and waits.
Now that they’re all here, I can tell them what they want to know—at least as much as I’m able. Hopefully, it will be enough to answer their more pressing questions.
