everything I can give her.”
Holly looked stunned. A silence fell between them, fading into the constant clatter and hum of the hospital. Ashe put her arm over her eyes, blocking out the light. Raising her arm pulled at her ribs, but she gripped the pain to her like a shield. “And now you know everything there is to know about me.”
“Sure I do,” said Holly, her voice denying it. “Ashe, you’re incredible. In a good way. Mostly.”
Ashe allowed herself a half smile. “That’s me.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to make sure you’re all right.”
“Time to update the data, sis. I think
Ashe lowered her arm. “We’re still sisters, aren’t we? Looking after each other is what they do.”
They stared at each other a long moment.
“Will you leave Alessandro alone?”
“Okay. Unless he screws up. Then I’ll kill him twice over.”
“Okay.” Holly laced her fingers together, almost like she was praying. “Y’know, I want to meet Eden and she’d love Grandma. You should bring her here for a visit.”
Ashe stared at the grimy acoustic tiles on the ceiling. They seemed to press down, pinning her to the lumpy bed.
“That would be nice. But, y’know, Eden’s going to ask questions.”
“About her witch heritage?”
“About where Mom and Dad are.”
Holly sank back into her chair, deflating. “Ashe ...”
Ashe sighed. She was broken, inside and out, and she so wanted to hand the jagged bits of herself to some other responsible party to figure out. Sadly, it wasn’t anyone’s job but hers. “I know. I’ll bring her around. Someday.”
Ashe turned her head, studying Holly’s face. There was still the echo of that sweet—though sometimes bratty—kid inside the woman. Not everything was lost in the passage of time. Ashe relaxed a tiny degree. “I love you, Holly. I hope you get that.”
“Yeah.” A slow, sly smile stole over Holly’s face. “And you always kept a secret better than anyone. I remember that about you.”
Ashe narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“I thought for sure your sister’d punctured a lung,” Mac said.
“She didn’t, but that was sheer luck. You saved her life.”
Holly flipped through the rack of dresses at Tiger Lily Vintage, Fairview’s raging-hot boutique for recycled fashion.
“But Ashe is doing okay, right?” Mac asked.
The sun fell through the dirty window like weak tea. The place was decorated in basic Victorian Bordello, with a lot of worn velvet and faded purple fringes.
“Sure. Witches heal fast. Even if Ashe doesn’t have active magic, she’s still one of us. Lucky for her.” There was a frustrated edge in Holly’s voice. “I think she’s coming around about Alessandro—I mean not killing him—but I don’t think they’ll ever be BFFs, y’know?”
“Uh, no,” he said. “She’s trying to protect you.”
Holly flipped another hanger. “So why am I the one doing bedside duty?”
“When are visiting hours?”
“I was up there this morning. I’ll drop by again later. They’ve got her so doped up she sleeps most of the time. It’s great for hitting the books.” Holly sighed. “Poor Ashe.”
“Hmm, yeah, aren’t you supposed to be studying and not shopping?”
“I’m in denial. Aren’t you supposed to be figuring out why you’re a demon again?”
“My best source of information tried to turn your sister and me into liverwurst.” Bored with watching her flip through the procession of garments, Mac started to look for himself. He wasn’t one of those antishopping guys, but this was moving too slowly.
“Aren’t you chock-a-block with demon strength?”
“That guy, Atreus, is packing a whole lot more. How about this?” He held up a red dress with a poofy skirt that rustled. Mac liked it, but he wasn’t sure whether that shade of red was the thing.
“Hmm, no,” she said. “That looks like Shirley Temple meets
He put it back with an exasperated grunt. He never had this much trouble buying clothes for himself. “Okay, I admit defeat. What does every girl want for her first date?”
Holly gave him one of her squinty looks that said he was being an idiot. It was kind of comforting, because it meant nothing between them had changed. He was a normal-sized human idiot. He was an extra-large demon idiot. It was all the same to Holly.
“Little black dress,” she said. “Every woman needs one.”
“Okay,” said Mac.
“Haven’t you ever heard of Audrey Hepburn? Look, this is perfect” Holly pulled out another dress. This one was black and so plain, it looked almost severe.
“That’s the point. It’s all about the accessories. Strappy shoes. Evening bag. I bet you haven’t even thought about lingerie.”
“Ha-ha. Not touching that one.”
“Beast.”
“You bet.”
“But a sweetie.” She held up another dress, plain black with a neckline that plunged almost to the waist. “Whoa, that one makes a statement.”
His inner caveman went on alert, definitely feeling more beastly than sweet. “We’ll take it.”
Chapter 20
“Baba Yaga’s Restaurant offers fine dining in the old world tradition in the heart of historic Fairview. With a wide and varied menu, we guarantee an unforgettable dining experience. Although we specialize in poultry, all dietary requirements are discreetly supplied. Please reserve in advance.”
Constance clung to Mac’s arm, unsteady on her beautiful, damnably dangerous shoes. Everything about the clothes he had given her made her feel exposed, from her ankles all the way up to her neck. Her upswept hair left her nape bared to chance breezes, shivering not from cold but from the sensuality of the promiscuous air.
She might as well have gone walking abroad in her shift. Except her shift wasn’t silky and black as sin. This was a woman’s dress. Not a girl’s. His eyes had told her so.
He’d brought her flowers. Red and white roses. She hadn’t seen, or smelled, or touched the velvet petals of real flowers for hundreds of years. They still ravished her senses, the scent of them clinging to her hands.
And he looked so handsome. Like the men in the magazines but better because it was him, Conall Macmil- lan, dressed like a prince but with a devil’s twinkle in his eyes.
He took her out of the Castle in a cloud of dust. The first sensation on becoming solid again was the wash of rain-fresh space around her. The next was Mac sliding her arm over his, as if she was worthy of the finest
