I’d been so worried about my mom—not to mention traumatized by my little swim in the moat—that I hadn’t taken the time to consider my dad’s feelings. But as I looked at him and hedidn’t speak, I finally recognized the emotion I saw, the one he was trying so hard to guard: hurt.

My gaze skittered away from him, and I hung my head. I hadn’t known him very long, and he hadn’t even known I’d existed until less than a month ago, but he’d deserved better from me than to have me sneak away in the middle of the night without even leaving him a note. Even if my escape had been successful, Dad would probably have thought I’d somehow gotten kidnapped or murdered right under his nose.

“I’m sorry I tried to leave like that,” I said, looking at my hands, which were folded in my lap, rather than at him.

Dad didn’t answer. I finally couldn’t stand the silence, so I turned to look at him again. He shook his head, and it took everything I had not to turn away in shame.

“You could have died,” he said softly. “You almost did. And if Grace had succeeded in taking you to Faerie, it would have been even worse.”

I dropped my gaze again. “I know. But the three of you were going to lock me away somewhere, and you’d made it very clear I had no say in anything. I couldn’t stand to live like that.”

“Better to live like that than as Grace’s pet in Faerie!” he snapped. “Better to live like that than to die!”

I’d never seen my dad this angry before. It was a scary sight. His face was flushed, his eyes piercing, his fists clenched into white-knuckled fists. I even felt the distinctive prickle of magic in the air, though the cameo was safely tucked into a bedside drawer. I guess I no longer needed its help to sense the magic.

I waited in tense silence, hardly daring to breathe. I didn’t really think my dad would hurt me, but he looked like he wanted to in the worst way.

Finally, he let out a harsh breath and unclenched his fists. The magical prickle faded, and some of the angry color faded from his face. He still didn’t exactly look happy with me, but at least he no longer looked like he was contemplating killing me himself.

“I have tried as best I can to treat you as a responsible adult,” he said, each word precise and clipped. “I’ve been honest with you when pretty lies might have been more expedient. But it seems I misjudged you.”

I winced. Dad was obviously a pro at the parental guilt-trip thing. So much so that I felt like I had to defend myself more.

“It wasn’t all because I wanted to get away from Avalon,” I said. “Mom promised she’d check herself into a rehab if I went home with her.” I stared at my hands as I plucked nervously at the sheet. “You don’t know what it’s been like, watching her destroy herself. And she’s never even been able to admit she has a problem, much less tried to get help. I had a chance to try to save her from herself, and I couldn’t not take it.”

Dad came to sit on the edge of my bed. I didn’t want to look in his face, didn’t want to see the anger and hurt and—maybe even worse—disappointment in his eyes. He reached out and covered both my hands in one of his, but I still didn’t look at him.

“Dana, my child, I am not a young man. I have lived in Avalon and among humans for centuries. And if there is one thing I know, it’s that there is no saving them from their own self-destructive behaviors unless they want to be saved. I can understand why blackmailing your mother into going into a rehab would sound like a good idea to you, but even if you’d gotten away with no complications, and she followed through on her promise, it wouldn’t have worked.

“You can’t force her to dry out, not for any significant period of time. Maybe she would have stayed sober for a few weeks or even months, but she would have been drinking again in no time.”

I pulled my hands out from under his. “You can’t know that! If she had stopped drinking, she’d see everything she’d been missing because she was drunk all the time and that would give her a reason to stay sober. She’s just too out of it most of the time to realize the consequences of what she’s doing.”

Dad sighed. “I think in your heart you know that I’m right. There was a reason you came looking for me, and it wasn’t because your heart was full of hope for your mother’s recovery.”

Now it was my turn to be mad, and I glared at him. “Don’t try to tell me what I think and feel.”

His look of gentle condescension made me even madder, but he didn’t give me a chance to tell him what I thought of him. “I suspect we will have to agree to disagree on this point,” he said.

He sat up straighter and wiped the condescending look off his face, changing the subject both with his words and his body language.

“According to the nurse, your doctor will be in to see you within the hour, and then you will be free to come home. I have a lunch meeting, but Finn will take you home and guard you until I’m free. When I get home, we will move you to a more secure location.”

Ah, yes. The dreaded “secure location.” Otherwise known as a prison cell. I knew better than to argue—this wasn’t one I could win—but I crossed my arms over my chest and put on my most mulish expression.

One corner of Dad’s mouth lifted in a hint of a smile. “For your foolishness of the other night, you are grounded for the next week. You will remain in the safe house at all times, and if you feel imprisoned, then that’s not inappropriate.”




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