flung them away, disgusted with herself, and shoved out of bed, squinting in the faint red light offered by her alarm clock.
'Grace? What’re you-how’d you get into my house?'
'Grace has her ways.' The black-clad vigilante stepped forward, light gleaming off her leathers, highlighting her curves. 'You promised your war wouldn’t come to my world.'
'I don’t know what you’re talking about.' Margrit reached for the bedside light, dismayed when clicking the switch did nothing. She rubbed her face and kicked a pile of laundry out of the way as she stalked to the wall switch. Light flooded the room and she squinted again, eyes watering. Grace turned to follow her path, one hand lifted and wrapped in gold links. 'What is that?'
'Payment,' Grace spat. 'From Janx.'
'A dragon gave you gold?' Margrit chuckled hoarsely. 'He must really be trying to curry favor. What’s going on?'
The blond woman tightened her fist, metal shifting with quiet clinks. 'Your gargoyle brought him to me. Down to where my kids are. He’s made my haven Janx’s new center of operations.' She opened her hand abruptly, flinging the gold links onto Margrit’s bed. 'You promised me!'
Margrit pulled her gaze from the snake of gold on her comforter. 'You invited Alban into your world, Grace. This one’s not on me. I’m sorry, but I never dreamed he might do something like that. Where is he? I need to see him.' She’d come home without trying to find him, and closed herself in her room, unwilling or unable to face her housemates. She’d showered and then crawled into bed still clutching Janx’s scale; it lay beneath her pillow now, where the water gun intended to keep her safe from Malik had once been.
Malik. She had been so careful not to let herself think of him, of the way his body had fallen, salt water preventing the transformation into mist that would have saved his life. Janx was right: they all shared the burden for that death, and the price would be higher for her than for Malik’s Old Races brethren.
Dark light slid into Grace’s eyes, nothing kind in her expression at all. 'Yeah, love, and I want to taste the kiss of angels. We don’t get what we want, do we. I can’t have Janx down there, stealing my children and showing them the posh life crime can earn them. You promised me, Knight. I don’t care what it takes. Get him out of my tunnels and out of my kids’ lives, or angels help me, I will haunt you for the rest of your days.'
'How would I get somebody like Janx out of your life?'
'You got him into it,' Grace said implacably. 'You’ll figure it out, love.' She turned away, hand on the doorknob before Margrit said, 'Your necklace.'
'Keep it. A prettier piece than Iscariot got, don’t you think?' She closed the door behind her as Margrit surged forward to snatch up the links, then run for the bedroom door, to fling the necklace after Grace.
The hallway was empty, the front door closed and the chains on the locks in place. Margrit threw the necklace anyway, sending it clattering against the door, then sat down on the floor, her face in her hands. A creak announced Cole and Cameron’s door opening. Margrit cursed into her palms, then looked up to find Cole frowning down at her. 'I thought I heard voices.'
'Just me talking to Casper.'
'What time is it?'
'I don’t know. Late. Probably about time for you to get up and go to work.'
Cole sat down beside her, looping his arms over his knees and glancing at her through bangs growing too long. 'Grit…'
'Whatever you’re going to say, Cole, can it wait until later?' She could still smell smoke on her skin and hair, despite having showered. 'I don’t have anything left to fight with now. Can it just…wait? Please?'
He answered with a long silence, finally ending it with a sigh. 'Are you okay, Margrit? I mean, really. Are you okay?'
'I don’t know.'
Cole sighed again and reached out to put his arm around her shoulders and tug her toward him. 'Okay. For right now, okay.'
'Thank you.' Margrit turned her head against his arm, grateful for his silence, grateful for his simple humanity. They sat together a while before he pulled in a deep breath. 'I’m not picking a fight. But do you smell like a bonfire?'
Rough laughter scraped Margrit’s throat. 'Yeah, I do. I-'
'Nope.' Cole cut across the beginning of her explanation firmly. 'I don’t want to know. We’re not fighting tonight,' he said, stressing the words. 'You can tell me later. We can fight about it then.'
'Okay.' Margrit unwound from his hug and scrubbed her face tiredly. 'I should go back to bed. You should go back to bed. You have to be up in ten minutes.'
'If I have to be up in ten minutes I should just take a shower.' Cole crooked a smile. 'You could make me an omelet for breakfast while I shower.'
'I could make you scrambled eggs with stuff in them,' Margrit countered wearily. 'I never made a successful omelet in my life. I can’t flip them.'
'Lawyers, always negotiating. Scrambled eggs with stuff in them sounds like a great breakfast.' Cole’s smile improved a few degrees and he got to his feet, offering Margrit a hand. She let him pull her up and they parted ways, Cole into the hallway bathroom that was by default his and Cameron’s, and Margrit to the kitchen.
A white shadow on the balcony, little more than a blur against the night, caught her eye. For a moment the impulse to pull the curtains and ignore the world outside swept her. Then she lifted her chin and opened the balcony door, uncertain if it was relief or dismay that made her stomach jump as Alban turned to face her.
'You’re all right.' He remained at the balcony’s far side, and she in the doorway.
'I’m not dead, anyway.' Margrit hesitated, then dropped her shoulders. 'Janx?'
'Alive. Infuriating our hostess with his presence. I had to bring him to-'
'I know. She dropped by to let me know.' Margrit looked over her shoulder to where she’d thrown Grace’s necklace, reminding herself to pick it up before Cameron or Cole saw it. 'The police have got Malik’s body, Alban.'
'No.' He all but whispered the word. 'Or, perhaps, but they won’t by morning. Djinn were arrested tonight. They can’t be held with iron bars and metal handcuffs. They’ll take him away before any examination is done.'
'Great. Accessory to murder and now responsible for missing bodies.' Margrit pressed her lips together and looked away, though she glimpsed Alban shaking his head.
'Neither, Margrit. You acted in self-defense, and by human law, I acted to save another. Not that human law will judge me. We know how my people will rule.'
A breath of laughter escaped her. 'And I thought I was the lawyer here.'
Alban returned her smile cautiously. 'I may have learned a thing or two from you in the last week. Margrit-'
'No.' She held up her hand, uncomfortably aware she was echoing Tony’s sentiment from earlier. 'Not right now, okay, Alban? No apologies, no explanations, no anything. I need a couple of days. I can’t escape your world.' She bit her lower lip, searching for the truth within her. 'I can’t, and I don’t want to. But I need a little time to back off and breathe. This…has been a hard week. So give me some time, okay? I’ll be fine. I just need space.'
'Are you certain?'
'I’m very, very certain. And right now you have to go, because Cole’s going to be out of the shower in a minute.' She had never had the chance to tell Alban that Cole had seen him. The impulse to do so rose and faded in the same breath; it would not send the gargoyle from her balcony, and she needed him to go. There would be time later to deal with the ramifications of Cole’s discovery. 'Just give me a few days, Alban. It’s been too much.' Another wave of familiarity swept her; she’d pushed Tony away too often using that same argument. It was a mistake she didn’t want to make again.
For the first time in what felt like days a genuine smile broke over her face. Margrit stepped out the kitchen door, crossing the step or two to Alban and winding her arms around his neck. 'I’ll come back to you, Stoneheart. Just give me a chance to catch up on my sleep, okay?'
Before he could speak, she stood on her toes and stole a kiss, heart hammering with joy that came from nowhere. Then, still smiling, she darted back into the apartment and turned to wave at the stunned gargoyle.
There was hope.
