I’d been angry at Trent, so angry I’d wanted to kill him over something I’d forgiven him for a long time ago. If the jolt from the weapons locker hadn’t woken me up, I would have done it.
The baku, I thought, turning to look at the couch. Shit, I had fallen asleep. It had been waiting for me.
But Buddy was still barking, and finally hearing him, Trent flicked off the mixer, looking at me in surprise. “Are you okay?” he said even as he shushed the dog. “You look pale.”
“Um. Tired,” I lied, looking at my hands before hiding them again. Damn it, I’m never going to sleep again. “I’m, ah, I just wanted to tell you I’m going down to check on Zack.”
“Okay,” he said cheerfully, oblivious that if not for the automatic safeguards on the weapons locker, he’d be dead. My God. I could have killed him. “I’m almost done. You want to get him out of the pool?”
“Sure.” I turned away, heart pounding. I couldn’t tell him. The hatred had been real. It had been mine. But it was no longer, and I was ashamed of it: shocked and ashamed.
Eyes down, I headed for the stairs to the lower floor. Buddy slipped from Trent to follow, looking cowed and sheepish as he wagged his tail as if asking for forgiveness for barking at me. I’m not safe anymore, I thought as I started down the stairs.
I’d forgiven Trent a long time ago for everything he’d done to me, having understood the why better than he’d ever know. I loved him, trusted him, but it had been as if all that understanding and forgiveness had never existed. The baku had stripped everything from me that made me who I was.
Only now, as I wove through the silent room full of empty chairs and low tables, did I understand why Dali refused to fight it. It was a true monster, making those it attacked kill the ones they loved with anger that was long dead. Worse, if I told Trent what had happened, he’d insist that I go into seclusion with Al and leave catching the baku to him. I couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t understand how devious it was and would be taken in turn. Neither of us was strong enough on our own. Together, though, with elven and demon magic combined, we might be.
Scared, I came to an uneasy halt at the window wall, arms over my middle as I watched Zack swimming laps in the sunrise. The new light glistened on the ripples arrowing out from his unhurried, smooth strokes. Seeing him, Buddy trotted through the wall to sit at the edge of the pool, tail swishing when Zack swam past. High above, Bis was asleep on the waterfall rock. Once, I would’ve known where he was by his light touch in my thoughts. Now I just knew where to look.
My gaze shifted to the table that someone, probably Quen, had set for three before the window, having used the seldom seen dishes and flatware from the bar tucked in the back. Trent had wanted to eat in the great room this morning, perhaps to show Zack that he was more sophisticated and worldly than mac and cheese in a tiny kitchen. The girls were too messy to eat over carpet yet, or perhaps he ate here every morning I wasn’t with him. I didn’t know. With the scattered tables and chairs, it reminded me of dining in an upscale hotel, especially with the view of the pool and the waterfall.
I shivered as I stepped through the window wall and out onto the tiled pool deck, the energy from the ward tingling through me to remind me of the mystics. It was cold, and I was 100 percent awake now. Fear was better than six cups of espresso.
“Zack?” I called, my eyes on Bis’s lumpy shadow among the rocks. He knew he could come in, but the cold didn’t touch him, and I think he was still mourning what we’d almost had. As much as it hurt me, it probably hurt Bis more, seeing as it was his entire reason for existing in his eyes. “Zack!” I called louder, but the kid kept swimming.
Tapping a line, I marshaled a small ball of energy in my hand and threw it into the pool. “Zack!” I shouted as I let the energy go. Water and air rushed in with a clap of