forms. They had a truck waiting outside. I thought it was strange at the time. There was a tinge of cold iron about it. Cold iron, Garvin: the antithesis of power and utterly poisonous to the Feyre. Is that the kindness with which they are treating my daughter? Is that the care they're lavishing on her?'
'Do you want me to deal with her?'
'What?'
'If you ask me, I'll find her and deal with it. I would do that for you.'
'No! I don't want anyone to deal with her. I want her back. I want my baby girl. Surely you can understand that?'
'And if she isn't anyone you would recognise?'
'Then I'll care for her. Her mother will care for her. Oh, God, what am I going to tell Katherine?'
'You're not going to tell her anything.'
'But she's her mother. She thinks she's dead.'
'Then let her grieve once for her daughter. Don't dangle hope in front of her and then snatch it away, Niall. Once is enough.'
'You really think she's dangerous?'
'She killed three other girls. This was no accident. The biological contamination they were talking about was your daughter. She was the biological contaminant. They cleaned up after her. They dealt with the families of the dead girls the same way they dealt with you. They reassured you that nothing could have been done and they made sure she couldn't hurt anyone else. That's all they can do. The only other option is to put her out of her misery.'
'Put her out…' I couldn't say it.
'It's what we would do. The Feyre don't nurse their sick.'
He let that sink in.
'Think about it, Niall. She's safe for the moment. She's probably got the best care that can be provided as things are. Maybe you need to think about what's best for her.'
I shook my head. I couldn't believe what he was telling me. He slowly stood and patted my shoulder. Then he left me to think. I sat until the light faded from the gap in the curtains and I was just another outline in the shrouded twilight. It wasn't until Blackbird found me that I stirred.
'Niall?'
'I'm here.'
'What are you doing?'
'Thinking.'
She stood over me, a vague figure in the gloom. 'What are you thinking about?'
'Nothing. Just something Garvin said.'
She nudged my knee with hers until I shifted along the sofa, leaving room for her to slide in beside me. She sat on the edge, capturing my hand between hers, twining her fingers into mine.
'Niall, am I a burden to you?'
'What?'
'Because if I am, you don't have to stay with me.'
'What are you talking about? Of course you're not a burden to me.'
'Then why don't you talk to me any more? Ever since Alex died… since you were told she had died… you haven't said a word to me.'
'I have. I've been busy, that's all.'
'You've spoken to me, but we haven't talked. You're not telling me anything. Have I done something wrong?'
'No! It's not you. It's me.'
'If I've done something, you have to tell me what it is.'
'You haven't done anything, I promise. I was just so wrapped up in what happened. I'm sorry. I'll try harder.'
'You're doing it again.'
'What?'
'Pushing me away, closing me out, clamming up.'
She tried to stand, but I had her hand and gently pulled her back down. 'Stay, please?' She relented and sat back down beside me.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was right. I had insulated myself from the pain of losing Alex, and in doing so I had isolated myself from everyone, even Blackbird. I think she understood that better than I did. It was hard to admit that the closeness we had found together was so fragile; that it could be undermined so quickly.
'I'm thinking about Alex.' I told her what Garvin had said.
'You're not seriously thinking of doing that, are you?'
'Garvin may be right. It may be what's best for her.'
'Rubbish!'
'She may not be able to come back to us, and I can't deal with it. I just can't.' I shook my head in the twilight.
'You're not thinking straight, Niall. This is your daughter. Did she sound mad?'
'She didn't say much. There wasn't time.'
'Was she raving or screaming? Was there violence?'
'No, she just sounded lost and alone.'
'Then find her. She's relying on you. You are the only person in the world who can help her. You have to have faith that she is your daughter and nothing-' She leaned forward and cupped my chin in her fingers so she could look straight into my eyes. 'Nothing changes that. If she is truly beyond help, deal with it then, don't fail her now.'
I stood and paced the floor between the shrouded furniture. 'What if Garvin's right? What if she's insane, dangerous even?'
'What if this? What if that? Does it make a difference? You're her father, Niall.'
'No, you're right. I have to find her.'
'Of course I'm right. She's your daughter.'
She got to her feet and came to me, easing into my arms. Between us, there was an answering kick from the bump in her belly.
She looked down and when she lifted her eyes back to mine there was a tiny glint of green fire in them. 'I think something is coming between us.'
I slumped back on to the sofa and she collapsed backwards into me and rested her head on my shoulder. 'I am so fat,' she said.
I stroked my hand over the bump that held my son. 'It suits you.'
'It does not. I look like a python that's swallowed a beach ball.'
'A beach ball that kicks.'
'A beach ball that's getting bigger. It's going to be touch and go. I could burst before he's cooked.'
'He'll come when he's ready.'
'And when will that be?'
'I don't know. It's been…' I counted in my head. 'Nine months. A little more, maybe?'
Her sigh turned into a groan. 'He's so heavy.'
'Were you OK walking down to the village?'
'Of course. Tate's funny. He thinks I boss you around.'
'You do.'
'No, I don't. I make suggestions that are eminently sensible that no rational person could argue with.'
'That's what I said.'
She pressed her knuckle against my knee joint until I yelped. 'Ow! You're mean.'
'Don't argue with a pregnant woman. They can be very emotional.'
'And violent, apparently.'
She relaxed back into me, satisfied that she had won.
