old mistakes just by picking up and starting a new life in a new place. And there were people here, so many and so small, who depended on me. What if I got it wrong this time? What if I screwed up all of their lives as well as my own? Because I did that, I did that a lot, only I couldn’t now and—
I bit my lip, trying not to panic, wondering why I was like this. And if I was ever going to get my stupid head sorted out. If I was ever going to stop wanting to run.
This was why I never wanted to think about this stuff, why I pushed it aside and pretended everything was fine, fine, we’re all fine here. Because it wasn’t a single problem but dozens, most of which were contradictions. Wanting a home and not wanting one. Wanting to be accepted and wanting to escape. Wanting love and friendship and yet pushing people away.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me or what to do about it. Which is why it was really funny that other people wanted my advice so badly. I couldn’t even figure myself out! Because it didn’t just happen, did it? You didn’t just wake up one day and suddenly decide to be normal, did you?
Or maybe that was exactly what you had to do.
Pritkin’s father and I had gotten to know each other a little recently, and Rosier was . . . different. A selfish asshole most of the time, he had these weird flashes of decency, like glimpses of what he might have been had his life gone differently. For a demon lord, he’d had a pretty rough time of it, a lot of which had stemmed from his own father’s early demise at the hands of my mother.
She’d hunted him down, killed and eaten him, or at least his energy.
It had made the partnership a little . . . tense.
But he’d given me one piece of good advice, at least: “fake it till you make it” wasn’t just a human thing.
I hesitated for another moment, because I was a mess. And then I piled everything back on the tray and picked it up. “Lady?” Rhea said, coming up behind me. “Did you want me to have it reheated?”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “I just, uh, think I’ll eat outside today,” I told her casually. And walked out, past a very surprised-looking acolyte.
Chapter Nine
The main outdoor terrace of the suite branched off the salon and was truly huge, with part of it having been reclaimed from the old living room. It had a forest of plants, a curving glass solarium-style roof, a large pool, some lounge chairs, and a table with a happy-looking blue and white umbrella over it. The sun was shining, and some of the smaller girls were splashing around in the pool wearing water wings.
A swimsuit-clad Tami was sitting on the side, watching them with eagle eyes. She spotted me as soon as I emerged from the hallway with all the bedrooms, and waved me over. But some of the girls were coloring at the umbrella table, and I didn’t want to disturb them. I opted for the big, sand-colored sectional and coffee table in the salon instead.
And finally got to enjoy my cassoulet. It was warm and filling and the definition of comfort food. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I took the cover off and that fragrance hit my nose again. I ended up eating two portions, along with some fresh baked bread and a hoppy beer that my waistline didn’t need but that went perfectly with the meal—until I noticed that I had an observer.
A small dark-haired girl had sidled up to the sofa unnoticed in my food haze. She jumped a little when my eyes focused on her, dropped something, and fled. I picked it up.
It was a picture of a tall woman with flowing blond hair, a goddess-type dress, and hands that appeared to be doing something, but I couldn’t tell what, because the artist didn’t really do hands. More like circles with lines in them. But the circles appeared to be conjuring something up. There was a lot of golden light being thrown around anyway, or golden something.
The yellow crayon was probably a nub by now.
I looked up at Fred, my shortest, portliest, and most food-obsessed bodyguard, who had also sidled over, in order to steal the rest of my bread. He had