Wolves at the Door - Lidiya Foxglove Page 0,71
keep living so I could have my revenge.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Helena
“Is she okay?” Gaston’s arms were crossed, his stress marked by the full ash tray.
“I told her to just rest up for a day,” I said. “Her familiar barely survived the witch attack only to die because Billie became a vampire, and your sister sure booked it out of here once she found out what happened, didn’t she?” I was definitely feeling snappish, even at Byron. “And dump that shit out,” I said, pointing at the ash tray.
“She is my sister,” Byron said, “but we’re not exactly equals anymore. She is a thousand years old.”
“And you’re not?”
“Not in the same way. She just doesn’t always…grasp human lives.”
“I have never wanted to sire anyone,” Gaston said. “But I thought she was going to die in my arms.”
“There is no way you could have known that Marisa was protecting her,” Jasper said. “I would have done the same thing in your shoes.”
“Feh,” Gaston said.
“Okay, well…” My hands flailed. “Just make sure you take good care of her now! She needs blood, I guess. I just gave her a glass of wine because I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Probably not a bad start,” Gaston said. “I’ll get her blood. I take responsibility.” He stormed toward the door, taking his ash tray with him.
“Vampires always end up making some sort of trouble,” Jake said. “Not a bad guy, but…it’s true.”
I slumped into a chair and kneaded my palms into my forehead. Then I took a very deep breath. “We have so much to do.”
“So let’s do it,” Graham said. “I’m here. I’m unemployed. I have two strong arms and nothing better to do.”
“Yep, still gotta make a living,” Jake said. “Graham, you want to help me finish the flooring and Jasper and Hel can paint?”
Graham furrowed his brows. “You and Jasper aren’t a team already?”
“Like I’m going to let you just slide in to team up with Hel! Nah, you’re going to learn under my paw,” Jake said. “Come on.”
“We’ll all be in the same room anyway,” Jasper pointed out, and I was glad of that. I was exhausted, but if anything could keep me going, it was working with these guys.
Billie spent a day sleeping off her vampirism, I guess, but then she came downstairs, looking pale and puffy-eyed but dressed for work.
“What do you need?” she asked. “I’m ready for action.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been through a lot.”
“But I still want to make my dream kitchen. If I let those witch bitches win…”
“Sure, I understand that,” I said. “At least you can comfort yourself knowing that they lost their powers and their council seats and, by extension, their entire social circle and income.”
“And I’m stronger than ever.” She grabbed a drill. “So show me what you need!”
Billie was definitely overcompensating at this point. “No drilling, babe,” Jake said. “Do you want to help Gaston with the porch? He’s touching up the paint and the rotten bits out there but he said he thought the porch should have furniture and he was wondering about painting the door.”
“He didn’t say that. Gaston doesn’t care about furniture, I already found that out. Before I spiffed up the cottage he was just sitting on the ground for his lunch break.”
“We know you don’t want to drill,” Jasper said. “Get some furniture anyway. Make this place look like a home. The faeries aren’t going to bring a moving truck.”
“That’s what I thought.” She gave us a faltering smile. “It’ll cheer me up. I’ll stay on a strict budget. I’m a master of Goodwill.”
“Go have fun,” I said. “Just remember that faeries definitely like natural motifs. Flora and fauna.”
“Got it. The kitchen is looking great!” she sang out as she went to the porch. She started talking to Gaston and they ended up talking for a while, then went to thrift store together. She came back with some pretty great vintage lawn furniture…and an entire set of plates with chickens on them.
Not quite what I had in mind when I said “fauna”, but…I let it go.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Helena
When a van pulled up to the house four weeks later, I was standing on the expansive porch of Greenwood Manor.
A van? It was hard to imagine faeries riding in a van. That must be quite a journey.
The driver’s door opened and my brother jumped down, dusted off his hands—leave it to Harris to act like the steering wheel he had been holding was unclean because god forbid he had to touch his