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turn into, the one who'd lied to him about her involvement in the Otherworld. I think if he had turned away, I would have died then and there. Instead, he held out his hand. I couldn't actually bring myself to take it. I didn't think I could let anyone touch me right now. I loved all the men here, but right now, I was inexplicably afraid of them.

Still, I felt safe leaving with Roland. Roland was my father. Understanding my feelings, he lowered his hand and simply beckoned. I approached him, stepping over the bodies in the kitchen.

"Okay," Roland said softly, his own eyes shining with tears. "Let's go home."

Chapter Twenty-Six

It was no secret: my mother hated Otherworldly things. Her feelings weren't that hard to understand, considering that she'd been a prisoner there, serving as Storm King's forced mistress-not unlike my own experiences now. Just as she tried to ignore what Roland and I did for a living, she also tried to ignore the gentry blood in me, treating me as though I were fully human and often refusing to hear otherwise.

Therefore, I was a bit surprised that she took everything better than Roland did when we got back to Tucson. I knew they had discussions when I wasn't around. He filled her in on what had happened in Yellow River, how I'd been practicing magic on the sly, and how I was now the reigning monarch of a fairy kingdom. He told her about Leith too. If she was shocked by any of it, if she was repulsed by it and hated me for what I'd become...well, she never let on. She was just...well, my mother.

She set me up in my old bedroom. It hadn't changed much over the years and even still had the same glow-in-the-dark stars I'd stuck to the ceiling. When I'd put them there in my youth, she had fretted that they'd never come off without ripping out part of the paint. So, I guess she'd never bothered in all these years.

Roland knew someone who knew someone who came and did a field surgery on my shoulder, removing the bullet and leaving me with pain meds and antibiotics. That was about all I saw of Roland in those initial days of recovery. It was my mom who stayed with me the most, talking about anything that wasn't Otherworldly and making sure I had entertainment in the form of books and TV. I could pay little attention to those diversions, though, not when my mind was on so many other things. I would turn the events of the previous weeks over and over in my head until I grew too weary to string any coherent thoughts together. When I reached that exhausted point, I would usually just let my mind go blank for a while. It was oddly soothing, particularly since I so often woke up from nightmares about Leith. An empty mind was sometimes welcome.

And it was my mother I went to when my period came. She'd already bought a pregnancy test too, just for peace of mind. When it came out negative, I stared sobbing. My mom held me in bed and rocked me the whole time, saying, "I know, baby, I know." It was odd because I didn't even know why I was crying. The negative test was a good thing, and I was glad there were no loose ends with Leith. As she held me-the first time I'd really let anyone touch me since Art's house-I suddenly wondered how she had felt when she was pregnant with me. Had she been repulsed by the thought of the half-gentry child forced on her? Had she wanted to get rid of me but been unable to in the Otherworld? I shuddered, not wanting to ponder that too much. Thinking I was cold, she went and got me a sweater.

It was a few days later that Roland and I finally talked. I was more mobile then and had come downstairs to make a bowl of cereal in the kitchen. He strolled in and joined me, sitting at the table with his coffee. His face seemed to have more lines than the last time I'd seen him. My fault, no doubt.

"I'm sorry," I said when the silence grew too hard to bear. "I...I should have told you."

He looked up from his cup. "Which part exactly?"

"All of it. Everything. I..." I sighed. "You were always so mad that I was spending time in the Otherworld at