by Jenna Black
It smelled so inviting—especially since the whiskey scent wasn’t overpowering—that I wanted to chug it down instantly, but I hesitated. “Is this allowed?” I asked. “I don’t know what meds I’m on, and—”
Kimber gave a haughty sniff. “Hot posset is the best medicine of all.”
“Yeah, but some meds don’t react well to alcohol.” And I imagined she and I both would get in trouble if the nurses came in and smelled booze on my breath.
Kimber chuckled. “I made it according to the actual recipe instead of spiking it like I usually do. There’s one tablespoon of whiskey in the whole batch. Now drink up before it starts to get that nasty hot-milk film on top.”
I took a sip and let out an appreciative “mmm.” It was as rich and creamy as I remembered, and Kimber had obviously used extra honey this time because it was deliciously sweet as well. I’m sure it was just the power of suggestion, but I swear my headache dimmed as I drank the posset down.
I drank the whole capful in no time flat, and Kimber instantly refilled it. She still had that vulnerable, shy look on her face.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, then took another soothing sip.
She huffed out a deep breath, then smiled at me. “I believe Ethan was right and I was being paranoid.” The smile faded, and she stared at her hands. “I was afraid that after everything that’s happened, you’d think I led you into an ambush at that boutique.”
I was genuinely shocked by the suggestion. Obviously, I’m not the most trusting of people, but I’d never once suspected Kimber had any involvement in the attack, and I told her so.
I hadn’t realized just how tense she was until her whole body relaxed.
“Why would you expect me to think you had anything to do with it?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I guess I’m still trying to deal with my guilty conscience about … before.”
“That’s water under the bridge,” I told her, and realized all the anger I’d felt when I’d discovered her and Ethan’s deception had faded away. I grinned. “I let Ethan off the hook because he saved my life. And you brought me hot posset, so you can’t be all bad.”
Kimber answered my grin with one of her own. “I told you hot posset is the cure for everything.”
Maybe it was the placebo effect, but I felt much better after two cups of hot posset. So much so that I was even able to face my delicious evening meal of rubber chicken, instant mashed potatoes, and mushy peas.
By the time I decided to call it a night and go back to sleep, Finn had replaced Lachlan again, and I was beginning to wonder why neither my father nor my mother had visited me. I supposed it was possible my mom was too drunk. She had, after all, been through quite a traumatic experience. But that didn’t explain my dad’s absence, and when I questioned Finn about it, he just told me my dad was a busy man. He didn’t bother to make that sound like the truth. But no amount of questioning would make him change his story.
My parents didn’t visit the next day, either, though both Ethan and Kimber stopped by. (And yes, Kimber brought more hot posset.) I’d half-hoped Keane would come—though probably his attitude wasn’t good for my health—but he didn’t. Silly of me to expect him, of course. And even sillier to be hurt that he hadn’t come. He was just my self-defense instructor, after all, not my friend.
I tried questioning Lachlan about why Mom and Dad weren’t visiting, but he was about as informative as Finn. I had a really bad feeling about all this, although when I asked, everyone assured me that my mom was fine.
My dad finally made his appearance on the morning of my third day in the hospital. I was still running a low-grade fever, but I was feeling much better, and the nurse who’d stopped by first thing in the morning told me I’d be free to go home after the doctor examined me one more time.
Finn was on guard duty when Dad arrived, but he hastily vacated the room and closed the door behind him. I didn’t like the look on my dad’s face, so guarded and almost … wary. I raised my bed so I could sit up comfortably, since I suspected we were about to have a conversation I shouldn’t take lying down.
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.”
I gaped at him. I’d never been grounded in my whole life. Heck, it sounded almost like a normal thing. Of course, his idea of grounding me sounded more strict than a human’s.
“When the week is up,” Dad continued, “you’ll be allowed as much freedom as we deem safe.”
“And who, exactly, is ‘we’?”
“Alistair, myself … and your mother.”
My eyes widened. “Mom?”
He nodded. “She will remain in Avalon. And she has granted me legal custody.” His expression turned grim. “Should you think about running away again, you will find you have nowhere to go.”
I shook my head. “No way would Mom agree to any of this!” After everything she’d done to try to keep me away from my father and from Avalon, I couldn’t conceive of her being party to a conspiracy to keep me here.
“Of course she would. She did.” His expression softened. “All she wants is for you to be safe, and she understands that you will be safer here than in the mortal world.”
As far as I could tell, Dad had never lied to me. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t choose to do so now. I bet he could have been real persuasive in trying to convince my mom that I’d be safer here, but I still didn’t believe Mom would go for it.
“If she agreed to this, I’d like to hear it from her personally.”
“That isn’t possible at the moment.”
My heart gave a nasty thud in my chest, and adrenaline flooded my veins. “Why not? What’s wrong with her? Everyone keeps telling me she’s all right, but—”
“She’s fine, Dana. But she hasn’t had a drink in almost three days, and she … isn’t quite herself right now.”
My mouth hung open, and I could think of nothing to say.
“It isn’t a cure,” Dad said. “I have had her declared legally incompetent, and she is now under my care just as you are. I will not provide her with alcohol, nor will I provide her the means to get alcohol. But if I grant her her freedom, she’ll start drinking again immediately. One cannot cure alcoholism by force.”
I thought about this a minute. “You had her declared incompetent and put under your care,” I said, and he nodded. I was afraid I knew what that meant. “In other words, she’s just as much your prisoner as I am.”
“Yes.”
I grimaced. I’d forgotten how brutally honest he could be. Emphasis on brutal.
“Keep in mind that as long as I have her under my care, she will be sober. I’m sure it’s not much of a consolation to you—and I’m also sure your mother will hate me for it—but it is something.”
So basically, I was trading both my and my mother’s freedom for her sobriety. I wasn’t absolutely certain it wasn’t a fair trade. Not that I had a say in it. I chewed my lip while I thought it over.
“Dana,” Dad said softly. “Even I cannot hold you against your will once you turn eighteen, unless you feel like developing a drug or alcohol problem to give me an excuse as your mother did. As much as you may dislike my methods, you will have to endure them only a year and a quarter. And during that time, I’m going to have to convince you to remain under my protection when you turn eighteen. I am not a fool. I will not win you over by mistreating you or your mother. It won’t be as bad as you think.”
Hmm. A year and a quarter in a gilded prison, and then I’d be paroled. It seemed like a long time when I considered all that had happened to me in Avalon since I’d arrived. But it was also a year and a quarter of enforced sobriety for my mom.
There was a part of me that believed Dad was right, that forcing my mom to stay clean wouldn’t actually cure her. But at least it would give her body some time to recover from the damage she’d done to it. And at least for that short time, I would have a mom I could relate to, whom I didn’t despise and wasn’t ashamed of. I would have the mom I glimpsed ever so briefly when she wasn’t drunk, the mom who was witty, and clever, and … fun.
No, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Dad had made that quite clear. But I did have a choice as to how much of a pain in the butt I was going to be about it.
I swallowed all my protests and took a deep breath. I could do this. I could accept my fate with dignity and regain my dad’s trust. And when I turned eighteen—assuming I lived that long, of course—I could decide for myself whether I was better off in Avalon or in the mortal world.
I nodded briskly. “All right,” I said. “I promise to be a good little inmate.” If my hands hadn’t been outside the sheets, I might have crossed my fingers. After all, it is a girl’s prerogative to change her mind, so I might not be telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Dad’s wry smile said, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” But he didn’t put that thought into words, merely patted my hands in another one of those reserved Fae gestures of affection.
He was almost out the door when I stopped him.
“Dad?” I said, and he turned to me with raised eyebrows.
“Thank you for sending Finn to save my mom.” My throat tightened as I remembered once again the terrible pain that had slammed me when Grace had ordered my mother’s death.
He looked at me gravely. “No thanks are needed. I proved myself remarkably useless under the circumstances. It was Alistair who delayed Grace, and it was Finn who saved your mother. I did not arrive on the scene until everything was over.”
“Yeah, but you live halfway up the mountain,” I said, realizing he genuinely felt bad about not being my own personal white knight. “Ethan would have called his own father before you, and I’m guessing you called Finn because he lives closer to the hotel. Right?” He nodded. “So if you’d come running to the rescue yourself, my mom would have died before you got there. You did the right thing.”
He smiled at me, but his eyes looked sad. “I know I did. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but I was saved from having to figure it out by the doctor making his rounds.
Epilogue
I wasn’t shocked to discover that my “secure location” turned out to be underground in Avalon’s massive tunnel system. The good news was that I had electricity, running water, phone service, and an Internet connection. The bad news was that I hated the tunnel system with a passion. I hated being without natural light. I hated the claustrophobic feeling that the ceiling might collapse on me at any moment. (Never mind that I knew perfectly well that wasn’t going to happen.) And I hated the memories of things that had happened to me underground.
After my week of being grounded was up, I was finally allowed to leave my little mini-suite, though only during the daytime, and only with a bodyguard. Still, it was amazing how free that felt after being confined for the week. It’s all a matter of perspective. I even renewed my lessons with Keane, who never once mentioned my escape attempt or my hospital stay. I wondered what that was all about.
My mom was occupying the room in Dad’s house that had once been mine. She was still not a happy camper, even after the d.t.’s had run their course. But at least she was sober and semirational.
She reminded me, though, of what my dad is capable of. I’d been reluctant to broach the subject with her, but eventually I had to ask her why she had signed over legal custody to my dad. It seemed like the last thing in the world she would do, and I halfway believed he was lying about it.
“I’m tired, honey,” Mom said when I asked. “I’d like to take a nap.”
I snorted. If that wasn’t the most pathetic attempt to avoid the subject I didn’t know what was. “I deserve to know, don’t I?” I pressed, though from long experience I knew how hard it was to get Mom to answer questions when she didn’t want to.
“I just … thought it would be best for you,” she said, but she couldn’t look me in the eye when she said it, and she couldn’t sit still, either. Her hands twitched, she squirmed in her chair, and she tapped one foot against the floor. Some of that was her desperate desire for a drink. But not all of it.
“I can always ask Dad,” I bluffed. I knew Dad would tell me the truth. I’d already established that he had no trouble with that whole brutal honesty thing, but I really wanted to hear it from my mom. If I had to keep nagging her for weeks, then so be it.
But maybe the lack of booze weakened my mom’s will, or just made maintaining the lie more trouble than it was worth. Still twitching and fidgeting, she spoke while looking just past my shoulder.
“He had Finn bring me here after he took me from the hotel,” she said. “He … wouldn’t give me anything.”