A third figure entered the living room, her bright-blue hair kissing the tops of her shoulders.
“Hey, little bro.” Lethe edged past Linus and Grier, stopping with one foot on the stairs. “May I?”
Though it pained him to deny her anything, he couldn’t stop his instinctive denial. “No.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“With Hadley?” He exhaled. “No.”
“I’m not going to murder your mate. I’m not a monster.”
Midas slid his gaze to Linus, regretting how her comment had wiped all expression from his friend’s face.
Grier leaned into Linus, comforting him with a hand on his arm. “Can we get anyone for you?”
As tempted as he was to huff and puff and blow them out of the apartment, he caved. “Mom.”
“She’s downstairs.” Lethe backed up a few steps. “I’ll let her know you’re ready for her.”
Hurt from his rejection tightened her features, but Hadley hadn’t woken up, and he couldn’t settle.
The elevator chimed, and footsteps announced another visitor Midas wished he could toss out.
“Lisbeth called.” Ford ambled in like he was here for one of his usual visits. “I brought food and drinks.”
Not so long ago, Midas would have shed his human skin and attacked Ford on sight for having the gall to invite himself in. It shamed Midas to remember how fast his obsession with Hadley, his jealousy over the infatuation he helped create, nearly ruined their decades-long friendship.
“Just burgers and fries.” He hit the steps and paused where Midas blocked the landing. “You mind?”
Throat tight, Midas stepped aside and let Ford sit beside him, dangling his long legs over the edge.
“I brought Hadley an apple pie, the rectangular kind, but I figured better safe than sorry.”
When Ford offered him a burger, he accepted it. When he offered him fries, he took those too. When he handed over a drink, and Midas sipped to wet his parched throat, he spat it on the stairs and coughed so hard he saw stars.
“Oops.” Ford snatched the cup and gave Midas a different one. “That’s Granny’s moonshine.”
Once the burn down his gullet eased, Midas rasped, “How can you drink that?”
“I don’t drink it.” His laughter rang out in the silence. “I use it as an all-purpose cleaner.”
Willing to admit he wasn’t at his brightest, Midas wiped his mouth. “Then why…?”
“Hadley might decide she wants something stronger than a Coke when it really hits her.” He glanced over his shoulder to where she rested. “This is guaranteed to wipe her memory for hours at a time.”
“Thanks.”
“I should go.” Ford rose and left the bag of food behind. “Your mom will be here soon.”
“Yeah” was all he could think to say, and it cost him to get that out.
“Call me if you need anything.” Ford paused on the stairs. “Food, alcohol, revenge, manly hugs, hairstyling tips. I’m here for all of it.”
“Thanks,” he said again, his brain and tongue getting tangled with the effort to be social.
No sooner had Ford hit the bottom than Tisdale swept into the apartment with her guards.
“Sweetheart,” she exhaled, motioning the pair of gwyllgi to wait in the hall. “My poor sweetheart.”
Despite it all, warmth unfurled in his chest at the sight of his mother running up the stairs toward him. But she didn’t stop when she reached him. She kept going until she sat on the futon with Hadley, her hands fluttering over Hadley’s still form.
The presence of his mother soothed, but the nearness of his alpha stabilized him, allowed him to think clearly for the first time since Bishop depressed the syringe into Hadley’s upper arm.
A soft moan parted Hadley’s lips, and Midas rushed to her side, falling on his knees.
“She responded to you,” he rasped, confused by her instant alertness. “Why?”
“My sweet boy.” Mom cupped his cheek. “I’m her alpha too. I can call her, and she has no choice but to come. She is bound to you in soul and bone, and you are my soul and bone. We’re kin. That’s why. She trusted you to protect her, to let her rest, to find her strength and her calm.”
“Her family…”
There was another brother, a little brother. Macon. And Mr. Pritchard. But they didn’t belong to Hadley. He supposed, thanks to the disownment, they didn’t belong to Amelie either, but they still had to be notified.
“She has you, and she has me. She has her friends and the pack. She will survive this.”
Aware his voice came out sounding lost and too young for his years, he whispered, “Linus.”
Rising gracefully, she walked to the edge of the loft and stared down. “Mr. Lawson.”
From where he knelt, Midas saw Linus tip back his head. “Yes?”
“Harm this child, and I will split you open from neck to navel and feast on your entrails.”
“I gave her my word I would stop her if no one else had the strength,” he said softly. “I’m not a liar.”
“She doesn’t know,” Grier murmured, hand on his arm. “She can’t know.”
“I’m a dybbuk,” Hadley croaked, her head tilting toward Tisdale. “Do you know what that is?”
Expression thoughtful, his mother folded her arms across her chest. “That explains…many things.”
Grinding the heels of her palms into her eyes, Hadley rubbed away her disorientation.
“There’s only one dybbuk who’s been named and lived.” His mother touched her lips. “You’re Amelie.”
“Amelie Madison née Pritchard,” Midas confirmed when Hadley left her hands over her eyes.
“That was the secret you’ve been keeping,” his mother mused. “I expected it to be spectacular, but I find myself impressed despite all expectations.”
From between her fingers, Hadley asked, “You’re not mad I lied to you?”
“None of us are who we were born. We evolve from the day we enter the world until the day we leave it. That’s life.” She flicked a glance at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. “Most of us retain our birth names so that we can be recognized no matter how much we change, but some of us discard
