Henri, true to his word, had come home that night with a chest of jewels and presented them to a delighted Violet. When I gave him a look asking where the hell he got them, he shrugged and we left it at that. Every day since the guys came home with masks, gowns, and things they’d found to replace the items Violet had lost in the fire.


I’d lost my mother’s letter and the small things she left for me, but in my father, I had more of her than I ever thought possible. Along with Sebastian, my father was becoming very involved in the rebuilding of New 2 and the forming of a new council. He had a new purpose, and a say that others respected, and I was thrilled for him.


Violet and I were busy fixing Crank’s room for her arrival. She was itching to get home, so sick of being cooped up in the hospital. After we finished putting clean sheets on the new bed and adding covers and pillows, our job was done. Then it was off to help Violet hang more masks on her wall.


“Do I have a mother and father?” she asked me as I hammered a small nail into the wall. I stopped to face her. She stared at me with those big, dark eyes, a red mask pushed on top of her head. I went to the bed and sat on the edge. “Real ones?” she amended.


Dora had said she grew Violet in the womb of the Aegis and the bayou. “I think you must have. Dora needed something to work with, right? An egg, she said, remember? That egg was you. You had a mother and father. I don’t think she created you out of thin air, you know?”


“You really think so?”


I nodded.


She thought about it for a moment. “Then I’m going to find them. Will you help me?”


“Of course I will.”


“Maybe there is something at Dora’s house, a clue. . . . ”


“We’ll learn everything we can. Go through it top to bottom. Michel, Rowen, and my father are fixing the Keeper. As soon as the library is back and Presby restored, we’ll find out everything we can on the Titans, too. Things the rest of the world doesn’t know. I’ll read whatever you want me to. And soon you’ll learn to read, once school is back in session.”


Violet picked up a mask from the pile on the bed and fiddled with the feathers attached to one side. “I thought she was my mother. She never said, but that’s what I thought.”


It must have been so hard for Violet to hear everything Dora had said. The witch had grown and used Violet for her own protection. But I sensed that Violet loved Dora anyway. It was why she had shielded her and protected her even as we begged her not to.


“I’m sorry,” I said. “About what happened.”


She tilted her head. “You think I’m still a treasure, a great, shining star?”


I caught her hand and pulled her to the bed so that she was standing in front of me. “More than ever.”


A smile finally came. “I will always protect you, Ari. I will look after you.”


Tears pricked my eyes. Dora might have created Violet for a terrible purpose, but Violet had a beautiful soul. She was an honest one-of-a-kind. A Titan—though it was still hard to wrap my head around that one. A shield maiden. I hugged her tightly. “Thank you. Same goes.”


“Oh jeez, if y’all start breaking into song, I might have to burn something.”


Dub lurked in the doorway with Crank, who was on crutches. Henri and Sebastian loomed in the background.


“Crank!”


Violet and I hurried over the gowns and masks to welcome her home.


TWENTY-SIX


HE WAITED UNTIL THE HOUSE was quiet, until the kids were in bed and there’d be no interruptions. He had to talk to her now, to try and resolve things before he went to Olympus tomorrow to see Archer. He knocked, and her muted voice answered from the other side of the bedroom door. Slowly he pushed it open. She turned away from the dresser. The strain and worry that had lurked in her eyes since the day they met was gone. In their place shone a clear turquoise blue.


But as he entered the room, some of the strain came back into her eyes. Because of him, the lies he’d told, the way he’d pushed her away.


Her fingers fiddled with a new top hat in her hand. She placed it on the charred skull of Eugene Hood, one of Dub’s decorating contributions from St. Louis Cemetery, and then rearranged the bed of Mardi Gras beads around the skull’s base.


“He’s grown on you, huh?” he said.


“Yeah. Guess I got used to the creep factor at the other house. My room wouldn’t be the same without him staring at me from the dresser.” She leaned back, curious and hesitant.


He swallowed. “How do you feel?” She’d gotten what she’d been after. Her curse was gone, and she was free. It still amazed him every time he thought about it.


Her brow furrowed as she thought about her answer. “Normal, I guess. I feel mostly the same, physically. The big change is in here.” She tapped her temple. “Still getting used to the idea that it’s over. I have a future, you know?” She looked away, then back at him. “Thank you. For helping me. For everything. How do you feel?”


What would she say when he told her? He shoved his hands in his pockets and drew in a deep breath, his nerves having a field day. “The same. I’m still the same, Ari.”


It took a moment for the information to sink in. Her face changed, going a tiny bit paler. A frown wrinkled her forehead. “But—” She shook her head.


“I told Horus not to change me back.”


“Why?” She breathed the word, holding on to the dresser behind her with both hands.


“Because things changed. When we were fighting in the cathedral . . . And after, with everything that happened . . . Strength, power . . . They have their benefits.”


“Benefits,” she repeated.


God, this was uncomfortable. “The kind that allow me to protect the people I care about.”


She blinked. “You didn’t have to do that. You hate—”


“No. I’m making my peace with who I am. And I’m not being some kind of martyr, all right? It wasn’t a sacrifice in the way you’re thinking. It’s for me, too. To know I’m stronger, more powerful than most. I didn’t want to give that up. There’s security in that. I can stand up to whatever comes our way in the future. It takes some of the worry away, for me, for the kids, the baby . . . you.”


Her mouth curved in a rueful smile. “And I ended up with my powers anyway.”


“Yeah. Didn’t see that one coming. If I had, though, I would’ve made the same decision.”


She licked her bottom lip and bit down, snagging his attention to the faint glisten left behind. His pulse kicked up a notch. Did she really have to do that? Now, when he was trying his damnedest to be good and keep his distance?


Her expression shifted to sad acceptance. Her chin lifted, and she parked a smile on her face. “Okay. So I guess that makes us friends, then.”


Wait. “What? No.”


“No?”


“No.”


Hurt filled her eyes. “I can’t, Sebastian. I’m not made that way. To know—”


“I’m not asking you to be okay with me drinking from someone else. I’ll get it from a bag. Look, I made mistakes before when I tried to avoid feeding, and I screwed myself big-time. I’ve already put myself on a regular schedule. I’m making sure I’m supplied, that I won’t go crazy like I did before.” He ran a hand down his face, wanting desperately for her to understand, to believe in him again. He moved forward, closer, but not too close. “I didn’t let you in before, and I’m sorry. I told you I wanted to be in a relationship and then I shut you out. It wasn’t fair. I was afraid.”


“Afraid?”


“Of turning you off, hurting you, of losing everyone. If you all saw me when I . . . it wasn’t pretty. It was ugly and harsh and violent. And it was my fault, because I kept trying to avoid drinking and that made the cravings worse. I . . . I don’t know. I was stupid, an ass, whatever you want to call me.”


She pushed off the dresser and took a step forward. The scent of her soap and shampoo made his gut tighten. His fingers itched to reach out and touch her, but he forced them still. He had no right to touch her. She’d told him before that she was “done.” And he wasn’t sure if she still felt that way.


He wanted her to make her own decision, to touch him if she wanted to. He didn’t know why, but that was monumentally important to him. Maybe because by reaching out, she’d be accepting him. And that acceptance would mean more to him than anything.


“I’ll make you a deal,” she said, looking up at him with an unreadable expression. He swallowed and nodded. “If you are possessed with the urge to drink from anything other than a bag, you come to me.”


A spark of hope stirred in his chest. She would help him through any rough times. That was a good sign. A fucking great sign.


“If you need to drink from anyone, it’ll be from me, for as long as we’re together.”


Hope exploded, firing through his chest like a goddamn missile. His heart thumped hard and fast. And when she reached out and placed both of her hands on his hips, he lost it. He totally lost it. He dragged her to him and held on for dear life.