Chapter 19
That night, I seek out Bay in our cottage. She’s not in her room, but I, thankfully, find her in the kitchen.
“What’s up?” she asks as I give her a hug.
“We need to talk.”
“What about?” she asks lightly, completely unguarded, which throws me for a loop.
How can she be so utterly forgiving of me after what I did? She really does want to forget about the past and move onward.
“Have you heard what’s being said about us?”
“No. Why? What’s being said?” She returns her focus on her task, which is adding some honey to a dark drink.
“It’s… It’s not good.”
She eyes me cautiously. “Are people trying to claim that we had something to do with the murder?”
“No, no, they, think Damon did.” I blow out a breath.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Right?” I shake my head.
“Here.” She hands me the glass.
“What is it?”
“Just drink,” she says eagerly.
I comply. “That’s really good. What is it?”
“Milk, chocolate, and honey. I thought about how honey makes everything better, and chocolate is pretty good by itself, why not have them together?”
“Genius.”
She giggles and makes herself a drink. We glide over to the table in the small kitchen and sit down.
I almost want to let the conversation just drop and not worry about what people are saying, but I can’t risk Bay hearing this from someone else. She’s being rather zen about it right now, but if she hears what people are saying, she might react and react badly. Right now, that’s the last thing we can have happen.
But, coward that I am, I wait until I down half of my drink to proceed.
“Bay, people are saying that we come from a demon-loving family.”
She laughs it off, doesn’t say anything at all, just laughs and laughs.
“Bay, it’s not funny. They’re saying that we’re all dark and twisted!”
“Well, we are a little, aren’t we?” she points out.
I glower at her. “A girl told me to my face that I probably wish my dad was a demon so I could be part-demon myself.”
She just waves her hand, clearly not worried in the slightest. “Let them talk. Words mean nothing. Only actions. Actions are forever.” Bay lowers her drink. “You know what else is forever? Inactions. Not acting. Waiting around. You need to hustle if you don’t want to lose those boys. Don’t think that the curfew has to mean you have to be separated from them.”
“How exactly does the curfew not mean that?” I ask skeptically.
She just winks and takes a sip.
I sigh. Just like last year, Bay’s not on campus much. Even the curfew hasn’t slowed her down much, although she is sleeping here most nights, unlike before the murder.
“I know you’ve been spending time with Zoth,” I say slowly, not wanting to set her off.
“He is my boyfriend,” she says, looking away, probably preparing herself for a fight.
“I just want to spend time with you too. Not just a drink here, a few minutes there. I want to have dinner together, just the two of us. What do you say?”
“I already ate tonight.”
“I did too. I meant tomorrow. Are you free then? I just want to talk, to catch up.”
“Tomorrow I’m busy.”
“The next day? The next?”
She shakes her head.
“There has to be an evening coming up when you aren’t busy with Zoth,” I grumble.
“What can I say? He’s a demanding lover, and if I don’t keep him satisfied, well, he just might go find someone else to satisfy those needs.”
“That’s terrible! He’s never said that to you, has he?”
“No, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”
I think about Damon and those girls talking about his lips. It’s possible that they just fantasized about kissing him… or that he had kissed them in the past. I almost don’t want to know, especially if the past had been a much recent past.
“If he can’t survive a night without you—”
“He can. That’s not the question.”
“So you don’t want to spend a night away from him,” I say sadly. “Not even for me.”
“Rosemary, when you find love…” Bay drops her head. “Maybe you should just let both Damon and Sage go. If you can’t pick one, won’t pick one, maybe it’s not love tying you to either. Maybe it’s just fear of being alone. There’s nothing wrong with being alone. You know I didn’t date seriously for a long time.”
I snort. “I know you fleetingly mentioned heartbreak in passing one time, but you never told me who exactly it was that broke your heart.”
She flinches. “I would rather not talk about that.”
I nod a few times, trying not to become upset and failing miserably. "Okay. So you don't want to talk to me about your past. You don't want to talk about what else? What other topics are off the table? Zoth, I would assume, or maybe not. How did you two meet?"
“Rosemary, I don’t want your judgment,” she warns.
“I’m not judging. I’m curious. There’s a difference. And if you don’t want to talk about how you two met, then I’m curious about why. Curiosity isn’t light or dark.”
“No, but it’s prying,” she says through gritted teeth.
"Did you meet at a bar? Do you think I'll care that you were at a bar? Even if it were a demon bar. I just want to know. Not to judge, I swear. I just want to know you better. I want to know what happens when you leave and not because I want to judge you. Just because I love you, and I care."
“Oh, you’ll care all right,” she snaps. “You’ll judge me like you judged me for dealing drugs.”
“Just tell me!”
"Fine! I used to chat with guys online. We wouldn't wear clothes, and we would talk dirty, and it was just with fairies at first, but then I expanded to include other clients. A
