Isla's Inheritance

by Cassandra Page

Sarah’s birthday, which was also the day of the party, dawned bright and sunny. I went in to visit Dad at the hospital early, and on my own. Sarah was busy finishing off the decorations, and Ryan was doing something secret—and probably painting-related—in his room.

  Dad was staging a breakout that day. The doctors were able to give no compelling reason why he needed to stay in hospital any longer, and he claimed his own home and bed would be far more restful than current arrangements.

  In the face of Dad’s rebellion, the only request his doctor made was that he not stay at the farm alone, in case he had another “episode”. Dad had intended to ignore the doctor’s advice, secure in the knowledge he was unlikely to get elf shot again any time soon. But the doctor was canny, repeating the request in front of Aunt Elizabeth and Nana the previous evening.

  “Nana’s going to stay with you?” I asked incredulously when he told me.

  Dad nodded so woefully I suppressed a grin. “She’ll rearrange the kitchen. And mother me constantly. I know it.”

  “Well, she is your mother…”

  He gave me a mock-sad look. “You’re just glad because you’ll get your room back.”

  “I hadn’t even thought of that. No more sleeping on Sarah’s floor!”

  Dad looked thoughtful. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. Mum staying with me for a bit, I mean. We had a serious falling out before you and I came to Australia, but she seems to have mellowed. It’ll give us time to do some catching up.”

  I bit my tongue. It looked like I’d gotten Nana’s emotional balance right the second time, which was great—especially for Dad, if he could use it to repair his relationship with her. But guilt was an ugly weight in my stomach. I’d manipulated her emotions. Sure, the outcome was favourable, but what was the cost? Wasn’t changing the way she felt about something not far from taking away her free will altogether? How did my actions differ from what my mother had done to Dad all those years ago?

  Because I’d emphasised an existing emotion, I told myself, whereas my mother had fabricated a new one.

  I wasn’t convinced by my own argument, though.

  Dad was watching my face with a frown. “You look like you’re pondering the fate of the world, kiddo.”

  “I am,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “But remember your promise to carry some iron with you whenever you leave the farm. Nana’s pretty scary, but she can’t protect you from everything.”

  He laughed.

  I left shortly afterwards, taking with me his birthday wishes for Sarah, and a promise to buy her a present next week some time. “I know it will be late, but she’ll have to forgive me. I overslept.”

  When I passed on the message to Sarah at home, she laughed. “At least if he buys me something I know it won’t be some new iron sculpture.”

  “I expect his days of giving iron to the people who live in this house are over,” I pointed out, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Aunt Elizabeth wasn’t within hearing distance.

  Her eyes widened in realisation and she nodded. “Even better.”

  We ate lunch as a family a couple of hours later; the only one missing was Dad, who hadn’t managed to be discharged from hospital in time. Aunt Elizabeth made one of Sarah’s favourite meals: a BLT chicken salad, with still-warm roasted chicken, dressed with mayonnaise and garnished with sliced avocado. For dessert, she served a rich chocolate mud cake served with double cream. And a candle.

  After the cake, and a brief interlude for coffee while we recovered from death by chocolate, we gave Sarah our presents. She opened mine first, and, to my relief, was delighted with the wristwatch. It had a black leather wristband and a white analogue dial with gold hands. The dial was offset to the right of the watch’s face. On the left was a miniature acoustic guitar charm, also painted gold. A couple of little gold notes were set either side of the guitar.

  “Oh, look, the charm even looks like Amy,” she enthused, referring to her acoustic guitar. She held her arm out to admire the way the watch sat: it was chunky around her slender wrist, suiting her perfectly. “Thank you, Isla. It’s brilliant.”

  Aunt Elizabeth handed her gift to Sarah with the glint of tears in her eyes. “This is for you,” she said, a catch in her voice.

  The small package contained a gift box covered in faded red velvet. Sarah’s eyes widened with recognition. Inside was a yellow-gold ring with an understated cluster setting: a single ruby in the centre and six smaller diamonds around the outside, arranged like flower petals. “Mum, isn’t this…?”

  “My engagement ring from your father? Yes.” Aunt Elizabeth reached across the table and brushed a strand of hair out of Sarah’s eyes. “He would have wanted to give you something special the day you grew up, and this is the most special thing I have from him.”

  The expression on Sarah’s face was torn; her aura spun. She loved the ring but felt guilty for accepting it. “I’m not sure I can take this.”

  “Of course you can,” Aunt Elizabeth scolded with a gentle smile that gave lie to her tone. “I want you to have it as much as your father would have wanted to give it to you. I’ve been saving it for this day.”

  “Oh, Mum.” Sarah gulped down her own tears and gave her mother a fierce hug. “Then thank you.”

  The ring fit her perfectly.

  Not long ago I might have felt a moment of self-pity, witnessing such a beautiful mother-daughter moment, but the familiar twinge of jealousy didn’t stir in my chest. I realised it was because I knew more about my mother, even though what I knew I didn’t particularly like. The knowing meant I no longer imagined her to be the perfect mother figure no woman could be. And I’d come to appreciate how much I loved my father during his illness.

  Also, it wasn’t like I didn’t have anything to remember her by: she’d given me an intolerance to iron and a superpower of dubious merit. The thought made me laugh behind my hand, earning me a raised eyebrow from Ryan and a suspicious look from Nana.

  Nana’s present was a designer handbag. Ryan looked across the table at me and mimed wiping sweat from his brow. I was glad I decided on the wristwatch after all.

  Finally, he brought his present for Sarah out of his room, unveiling the canvas with a dramatic flourish.

  “Oh!” Sarah exclaimed.

  The painting he’d done of my mother was good, but this was his best painting yet. I’d seen the sketch, but that in no way prepared me for the completed artwork. He’d changed a few things, and added extra details; the electric guitar, for example, had Amy II stencilled in cursive writing along one edge. Sarah’s hair still flared around her head, but he’d added a blond streak in the fringe. The leather bracelet around her wrist was now a watch.

  The watch bore a startling resemblance to the one I’d given Sarah: black wristband, white-and-gold face. The angle prevented the viewer from seeing the details on the face, though, so I didn’t know how far the similarity went.

  Ryan knew I was getting Sarah a watch, but I’d never discussed the details with him. Did that mean this painting was an aislinge vision? I shivered, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

  “I call it Rock Goddess,” Ryan told his sister, who looked stunned and delighted.

  “Well, you would, wouldn’t you?” Aunt Elizabeth joked.

  “It’s very good,” Nana observed, although her lips were pressed together with disapproval. Was it because of the short shorts Sarah wore in the painting, or the streak of blond in her hair? Probably both.

  She wasn’t going to be happy when she saw what we were wearing to the party that night.

  Fortunately for both Nana and the two of us, Dad rang shortly afterwards to say he was being discharged from the hospital. My aunt bustled around, organising her keys and handbag, and Nana packed her suitcase, waving off our offers of help. Aunt Elizabeth was going to drive Nana and Dad back to his farm, and then come home afterwards. Given the length of the drive, Sarah suggested her mother stay the night at the farm, but Aunt Elizabeth gave us a long look
and then shook her head. “I’d rather be in town tonight, in case you girls need me.”

  “We’ll be fine, Mum. We’re super responsible.”

  “I trust you girls, but what if you get gate-crashers at the party and need a hand? I’d rather be where you can reach me if something happens.”

  We were having our party at a scout hall. I privately thought gate-crashers might be an issue and was a little relieved at Aunt Elizabeth’s offer—I’d heard some horror stories through the rumour mill at school, and we’d gone to great lengths to make sure the party hadn’t been advertised on social media, to try and limit attendance. Sarah grumbled but agreed with her mother’s logic.

  After they’d left, we loaded up the last of the party decorations into Sarah’s car and then drove to the hall to finish setting up.

  The hall was bedecked in black and white, our theme colours. Helium balloons swayed near the open door, tethered in bunches. Streamers and party lights swooped from the ceiling. The various foods and drinks were spots of colour framed by white paper plates and black plastic cutlery. Even the tablecloths were white with black runners.

  Kim and Natalie arrived as we were putting out the last of the food. Kim was wearing a gorgeous white ao dai: a tight-fitting silk tunic and long skirt embroidered with flowers. Her silky black hair was piled on top of her head and stabbed through with chopsticks. Natalie wore a suit and tie that, amazingly, fit her petite frame. The only hint of colour to either of them was Natalie’s bright red lipstick and hint of blue eye shadow.

  “Happy birthday.” They greeted Sarah with enthusiastic hugs. “And happy belated birthday party,” Kim added to me. “Need us to do anything?”

  “We’re all set up,” Sarah said. “Could you hang around and let the band in when they arrive? We’re going to zip home and get changed.”

  “I had noticed you were a little … underdressed,” Natalie remarked with a raised eyebrow, examining our dusty jeans and T-shirts with a critical eye. “Go. Hurry back.”

  After some consideration, we’d chosen matching outfits in reverse colours. We each wore a spaghetti-strapped top with a deep neckline and a ruffled skirt that reached the floor at the back, but at the front sat far enough above the knee I knew Dad—and Nana—wouldn’t approve. Long necklaces of glass beads and matching earrings rounded out the ensemble. In Sarah’s case, the top was white and the skirt and jewellery were black, and in mine it was reversed. We both wore black boots, though; neither of us was willing to spend money on white ones we probably wouldn’t wear again.

  “Lucky my new watch matches,” Sarah admired it as I put the final touches on my makeup.

  I smiled in agreement.

  Ryan wasn’t ready when we were, so we told him we’d meet him there and walked back, keys and phones in matching clutches. The hall was close and, now we didn’t have party supplies to contend with, driving seemed like a waste of petrol.

  Live music greeted us when we arrived at the scout hall; it was the same three-man band that played at the Halloween party. Sarah had befriended the mohawked guitarist and lead singer—his name was John. They were as loud as I remembered, but the volume wasn’t quite as eardrum-rattling in the large hall as it was in a suburban lounge room.

  A dozen guests beside Kim and Natalie had arrived, most of them people from school I hadn’t seen since Dad fell ill. Sarah drifted towards the band, and I stood with Kim and Natalie, talking to others as they came up to say happy birthday and filling them in on the good news that Dad was being discharged from hospital. I also gave each person a helium balloon to tie around their wrist.

  Sarah was eyeing John in a way that made me wonder whether there was something going on there. She hadn’t mentioned anything, but I’d also been so preoccupied with my own troubles that she might not have. The thought gave me a pang, and I resolved to interrogate her about him the first moment we got.

  Dominic arrived a few minutes later, pausing in the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the relative dimness. I admired the view. He was dressed all in black: a cotton dress shirt with satin stripes running vertically down its length, neat slacks and polished leather shoes. When his gaze lit on mine, he smiled and hurried over, wrapping his hand around my waist. His lips touched my neck and he mumbled a breathy hello.

  “You look dashing,” I said, feeling my cheeks redden as Natalie and Kim nudged each other. I tied a balloon string around his wrist. A black balloon to go with his outfit, of course—the same colour as mine.

  He bowed. “And you look good enough to eat.” I sucked in a breath as Kim and Natalie burst into giggles. Thankfully Dominic changed the subject. “How’s your dad?”

  I glanced at my watch. “He should be halfway home by now.”

  “That’s fantastic news.”

  “I know.” I beamed.

  “Did they ever find out what caused the coma?” Natalie asked.

  I shook my head. It was technically true; the doctors had never figured it out.

  Dominic pulled a card from his shirt pocket. “This is for Sarah. It’s a movie voucher. I didn’t know what else to get her.”

  “That’s all right, she’ll love it. Come on, let’s give it to her.”

  Kim took the balloon strings from me with a wink. “We’ll take over. Go have fun.” His hand enveloped mine and we walked over to my cousin, who was dancing with a couple of other people in front of the speakers.

  “Aunt Elizabeth would want me to tell you you’re going to damage your ears,” I shouted, leaning in close.

  She poked her tongue out but moved back towards the door—where the music was loud rather than deafening—so she could say hello to Dominic.

  She was halfway through opening his card when she stopped, looking towards the door with an open mouth. I turned to see who she was staring at.

  Ryan entered, late as usual, dressed in black jeans and a tuxedo T-shirt. Why would Sarah care about that?

  Jack followed behind him.

  He was wearing a 1940s-era zoot suit: a long pinstripe black coat with wide lapels and padded shoulders over a crisp white shirt, black pinstripe trousers, and black-and-white pointy loafers. A watch chain looped from the belt to a little pocket. Pulled low on his head and covering the pointed tips of his ears was a black felt hat with a white band, a turned down brim and a pinched front crown.

  “Who’s the kid?” Dominic asked with a raised eyebrow. I glanced around the hall and saw incredulous looks on other people’s faces too. The music hadn’t quite jangled to a halt the way it would have done in a western, but the lack of conversation was uncomfortable enough.

  “He’s a friend of the family,” Sarah said before I could think of how to respond. We should have planned our explanation earlier. Oops.

  “His name’s Jack,” I added. “He’s not as young as he looks.”

  “Poor guy if he’s an adult already and that’s as tall as he’s going to get. He’s your height, Isla.”

  “And Isla’s not that tall,” Sarah agreed, poking me in the ribs. “Jack’s vertically challenged, that’s all. We should go say hi.” She took my arm and led me across the room. Dominic trailed after us.

  “Glad you could come, Jack.” I gave him a quick hug, conscious of all the curious gazes—especially Dominic’s. Sarah gave him a hug too and whispered something in his ear.

  “Sorry I am late. I would have been here sooner, but someone forgot to tell me it was black-and-white themed.” He pulled a face at Sarah as though they had always known each other. She grinned back.

  “Forgot?” Dominic looked incredulous. “You managed to rustle up that outfit at short notice?”

  Jack glanced at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and nodded. “I am very resourceful.”

  “No kidding.” Dominic introduced himself and shook Jack’s hand.

  “What did you say to Jack?” I whispered to Sarah while the two guys were talking.

  “To pretend we were old friends,” she replied. “I thought, given I’d told your bo
yfriend I already knew him, he better not introduce himself to me.”

  “Oh. Good thinking.”

  “I know, right?”

  A thought occurred to me. “Um, what are we going to do when people realise Ryan doesn’t know him?”

  “Crap,” she muttered. “Let me get Ry out of here before they start talking.” She hurried over to her brother, who was surveying the room for people he knew, and took his arm, leading him over to the drinks table and a couple of his mates.

  And not too soon either. Kim and Natalie came over, ostensibly to give Jack his balloon, and started interrogating him with friendly smiles about where he was from, where he’d gone to school and how he knew us. He answered confidently, telling them he was from Sydney and that he’d known our family for years. Kim seemed enchanted with his bright blue eyes, golden hair and quick smile, and intrigued by his outfit. She kept touching his arm as she laughed at his jokes; her aura was a deep red.

  Jealousy rose like bile in the back of my throat. I swallowed hard. Jack was neither my boyfriend nor my servant nor my possession. I had no right to feel anything when I saw him talk with girls my age.

  Even if they were attractive girls.

  No, especially then. My hot boyfriend stood at my side, batting my helium balloon out of his face. And Jack could look after himself.

  “Let’s dance.” Dominic led me over to the spot by the speakers where Sarah and the others were. I threw myself into the music with a determined enthusiasm.

  Sarah raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing.

  I didn’t keep an eye on Jack, exactly, but I couldn’t help but notice he was the centre of an increasing flock of girls who were competing for his attention. Natalie and Kim were soon joined by Rebecca and Cathy, two girls who had graduated last year. Jack didn’t seem uncomfortable with the attention, leaning against the scout hall’s brick wall, but he did glance across at me occasionally. I couldn’t read his expression, and from across the hall his emotions were lost amidst the swirl of other colours in the room.

  But when a dark blond girl about the same age as us, with glasses and an upturned nose, joined them, I stopped dancing. It was Emma, the witch from the Halloween party who had conducted the séance.

  “What’s she doing here?” I demanded of Sarah, pulling her far enough away from the speakers that she could hear me.

  “Who?” Sarah looked across the room and then shrugged. “I didn’t invite her. I think she’s uni friends with Cathy. She must have told her about the party.”

  I scowled, remembering how embarrassed and hurt I was after the Halloween party.

  “Want me to ask her to leave?” Dominic offered.

  I took a deep breath. Given everything I’d learned since, it was unfair of me to blame Emma for the way the séance had gone. I may not have liked what I’d heard, but that wasn’t her fault. “No.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  As though she sensed our eyes on her back—or maybe Rebecca or Kim, who were facing us, said something—Emma turned. When she met my gaze, she squared her shoulders and came across the hall, weaving her way through several groups of dancers.

  “Hi, Isla,” she said, looking uncomfortable. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

  “Sure.”

  “We’ll be here if you need us,” Sarah whispered in my ear before giving Emma a bright smile.

  Emma led me out of the scout hall and into the evening air. The temperature dipped, offering much relief from the stuffy, still air in the hall.

  “Look,” she said when we were far enough away that we wouldn’t be overheard—but still inside the circle of light spilling from the doorway. “I wanted to apologise for the way things went. With the séance. I heard you were upset afterwards.”

  “I was,” I admitted, tipping my head to the side as I looked at her. Her apology seemed genuine; her aura was a charcoal grey I’d come to associate with regret.

  “Anyway, I’m happy to leave if you want. I just wanted to come along and say I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  I smiled, and she looked a little startled. “Don’t worry about it. At the time I thought it was a hoax, that you did it deliberately. That’s why I was mad. But I’ve learned some stuff since.”

  “Oh?” Her one word was full of curiosity.

  “Well, let’s say your ghosties were right. And I’m sorry too.”

  “Your mother…?”

  I nodded and looked away for a moment, taking a breath. “Please don’t be offended, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. “So we’re good?”

  “We’re good.” I hesitated before adding, “Just… Look, you might want to be careful with the séances. They can stir up all sorts of trouble.”

  She gave me another startled look and mumbled something about always being careful. It was pretty clear she wasn’t going to heed my warning. But why would she? She didn’t know what I was talking about, and I couldn’t elaborate.

  The loud rumble of a car engine drew our attention to the car park. A hatchback with glittering mag wheels and a too-large exhaust pipe crunched across the gravel, pulling to a stop in the middle of the lot and blocking in half a dozen other cars. Two men I didn’t know got out; they were at least in their mid-twenties, tall and, judging by the way they stumbled and the odd blurring of their auras, already drunk.

  “Uh oh,” Emma said.

  “You know them?” I murmured as the men headed towards us.

  “Vaguely. Some meatheads from uni.” She wrinkled her nose. “Professional gate-crashers.”

  “Nice balloons,” one of them muttered to the other, who guffawed. My cheeks burned.

  “Hey, ladies,” the taller of them called. Eyes glittered in a small face dwarfed by a thick neck. “Is this a private party or can anyone join?”

  “It’s private.” My arms wrapped my body, and I gripped my bare arms. Sarah handled confrontation better than me.

  “Come on,” the other, a blond, cajoled. He held up a six-pack of beer. “We brought our own drinks.”

  “I think you should go.” I gasped with relief when Emma spoke up beside me.

  They laughed loudly and with a hard edge that made my blood run cold. Emma glanced at me, a question in her eyes.

  “You heard them,” Jack said from behind us. “It is a private party.”

  I felt the change in the air. Their auras, still blurred, shifted towards an angry red. “Aww, look at the little fella in his fancy suit,” said Thick Neck to his friend, cracking his knuckles. “Trying to be a big man for the ladies.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kim and Rebecca come out the door. Kim assessed the situation and disappeared back inside.

  I hoped she was going to fetch help or at least a mobile phone. I regretted not having a pocket for my phone; it was in my clutch, which was in a locked cupboard in the kitchen.

  The pair reached the edge of the car park. They were only a couple of metres from us.

  “I will not tell you again,” Jack said, eyes narrowing.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and not because of the two drunken oafs. I didn’t know what my duinesidhe friend was capable of. “Jack,” I said, a warning in my voice.

  He glanced at me and nodded.

  “What are you going to do?” Thick Neck taunted.

  Jack showed him.

  Before any of us could react, he stepped past Emma and me, his balloon trailing behind him. He pushed Thick Neck hard enough that the taller man toppled over with a startled cry. His friend with the beer threw a punch at Jack’s head. Jack ducked, grabbing the oncoming fist, and squeezed.

  Swearing, the man swung the six-pack at Jack. The duinesidhe sidestepped, and the bottles crashed to the ground, three of them breaking. Glass and beer sprayed across the gravel, showering Thick Neck in fragments and amber liquid. Jack still gripped the blond’s hand.

  Thick Neck hauled himself to his feet, swearing when
he cut his hand on a shard of glass. He launched himself at Jack.

  Jack moved as fast as I’d ever seen a human move—and certainly faster than a drunk human could follow—stepping behind the blond and yanking his arm up behind him. Thick Neck barrelled straight into his friend, and the two fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

  Jack stepped back, smiling fiercely. Freed from his wrist by the violent commotion, Jack’s helium balloon vanished up through the trees. But Jack’s gaze was fixed on the two men, hands held at his sides as he waited for them to stand back up. His stance reminded me of the cat I’d seen stalking the moth in the park two days before: relaxed, focused … and a deadly hunter. Jack’s aura was violet and red, like a bloody bruise.

  I had no doubt he was the most dangerous person here. My stomach swooped.

  Behind us, I heard a few people cheer and a smattering of applause.

  “I think it’s time you left,” Dominic said as the two drunks clambered to their feet. He stood beside me, putting a hand on my arm.

  They looked from Jack to the growing crowd in the doorway of the hall. Thick Neck glared at Jack. “You wait, you goddamn midget. I’m gonna make you bleed.”

  “Promises, promises,” Jack replied.

  Growling and swearing, the pair strode back to their car and left with a screech of tyres. Gravel scattered in their wake.

  “That was amazing!” Rebecca exclaimed, brushing past me and hurrying over to Jack. “Do you do martial arts?”

  Jack blinked at her for a moment, like he was wondering who she was. Then he recalled himself. He nodded at her, straightening his jacket and checking that his hat was still in place.

  “You must have a black belt or something,” she said. “You could have really hurt them, couldn’t you?”

  He nodded again, looking at me solemnly.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed at him as Rebecca prattled on. For coming to our rescue, for not doing serious harm to the two idiots. I didn’t say it aloud. I didn’t need to. I knew he understood.

  He nodded a third time, smiling at me. Then he gave Rebecca his full attention; she preened, and I suddenly didn’t like her very much.

  “Are you okay?” Dominic asked, leading me back inside.

  “I am now.” I told my hands to stop shaking or they’d make a liar of me. “I hope they don’t come back.”

  “I doubt they will. That had to be pretty embarrassing.”

  Sarah hurried over from the dance floor; the band had stopped playing and the news of a fight was spreading through the hall like a grassfire. “What happened?”

  I explained, and she pulled a face. “Lucky Jack was there.”

  “I only saw the end of the fight, but damn, that kid knows how to move,” Dominic said, a peculiar catch in his voice. I looked at him sharply. Did the lime green pulsing in his aura denote jealousy?

  “Are you okay?” I asked, before mentally kicking myself. Tactful much?

  “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to…”

  “Defend me?”

  “I guess, yeah.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. Dominic, who was facing me, didn’t notice.

  “Don’t worry about it. Jack was near the door. It just worked out that way. It’s not like you chose not to be there.”

  “The band’s on a break,” Sarah said loudly, changing the subject. I guess I wasn’t the only one finding this conversation awkward. “Let’s put some music on and try and get everyone back in the party mood, yeah?”

  Sarah and I chose a hip-hop playlist from her music collection, and she put it on while I grabbed a drink. Dominic slinked off in the direction of the bathroom. Ryan’s friends were still sitting near the drinks table, but his chair was occupied by Tyson, a computer genius from school who had thick-rimmed glasses and a prominent Adam’s apple. Tyson was describing the fight, gesticulating wildly. His white balloon bobbed and swung around his head.

  I watched Jack as I listened to Tyson. The hob was still near the door, talking to Rebecca, who’d been joined by Kim and Cathy. Jack nodded to whatever the girls said. The air of gleeful aggression had dissipated. He seemed harmless.

  My grandmother’s words sprung into my mind: fae were dangerous, not to be trusted.

  Jack had never struck me as physically dangerous. Until now. It was clear—to me, at least—that he’d held himself back in the fight. He could have hurt or even killed those two idiots if he’d wanted to.

  But he hadn’t started the fight. And he was defending me. I couldn’t help but be grateful even as it unnerved me.

  “Boy, you’ve got it bad,” Natalie remarked beside me. I jumped, whirling; I hadn’t seen her approach.

  “What are you talking about?” I spluttered.

  “I can see the way you’re looking at Jack.” She took a sip of her drink. “Do you guys have a history?”

  “No!” I yelped. Tyson and Ryan’s friends looked over and I continued more quietly. “Not like you mean.”

  “You look at him like you do.” Ah, Natalie. I didn’t know anyone else as good at being as tactlessly blunt as she was.

  “Shut up. I do not.”

  “If you say so,” she replied. “But, if that’s the case, you might want to tone it down a little when Dominic’s around so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

  I frowned, looking back at Jack. There was a history between us, sure, but not like Natalie was thinking.

  Did I want there to be?

  I liked Jack. I was grateful to Jack. Lord knows I owed him a lot. But I liked Dominic too. And he was the same species as me.

  You’re a half-breed, a traitorous voice whispered inside my head. Jack’s as much your species as Dominic is.

  Oh, be quiet, I told the voice.

  “Yeah, that look? Stop it,” Natalie murmured in my ear. “Here comes Dominic.”

  Feeling guilty, I whirled to see my boyfriend hurrying over. “Isla? Where’s Sarah? Something’s happened to Ryan.”

  Chapter Eighteen