frowned; what did Laurel’s parents have to do with anything?
But Laurel was already shaking her head. “Yuki, I don’t like that they made me forget. But I can’t change the past—”
“Forget? I’m not talking about memory elixirs. What about the poison?”
“Oh, come on—” Tamani blurted.
Laurel shushed him. “Yuki, do you know who poisoned my father?”
Tamani was pretty certain of the answer, and he knew Laurel was too – it had to have been Klea. But if Laurel could convince Yuki to confirm their suspicions . . .
“Your father?” Yuki looked confused. “Why would they poison your father? I’m talking about your mother.”
Again Laurel looked at Tamani, and he shook his head with a tiny shrug. What was Yuki playing at?
“You don’t even know, do you? Big coincidence that the couple who happened to own the land around the gate just happened to be childless – waiting for a little blonde baby to pop into their lives. How . . . convenient. Wouldn’t you say?”
“That’s enough,” Tamani said sharply. He should have guessed – more games. Yuki was just looking for ways to get them doubting themselves – and each other.
“They did that,” Yuki said. “Fifteen years before you even showed up on their doorstep, the faeries made sure your mother was baby-hungry enough to take you without question. They damaged her, Laurel. Made sure she could never have her own children. They ruined her life and you’re siding with them.”
“Don’t listen to her, Laurel. It’s not true,” Tamani said. “She’s just trying to get into your head.”
“Am I? Why don’t we ask him?”
Laurel followed Yuki’s eyes to Shar, who stood as still as a statue, his face betraying nothing.
It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. Not Shar, who had been her unseen guardian since she first left Avalon.
So why isn’t he denying it?
“Tell her,” Yuki said, straining against her chair. “Tell her what you did to her mother.”
Shar’s mouth stayed closed.
“Shar,” Laurel begged quietly. She wanted to hear him say it wasn’t true. Needed him to say it. “Please.”
“It was necessary,” Shar replied at last. “We didn’t choose them. They just lived there. The plan had to work, Laurel. We had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” Laurel whispered, her mouth suddenly dry, her chin quivering with anger. Shar had poisoned her mother. Shar, who had been watching over her even longer than Tamani, had poisoned her mother.
“I have a home and family to protect. And I will do whatever it takes to keep Avalon safe.”
Laurel bristled. “You didn’t have to—”
“Yes, I did,” Shar said. “I have to do a lot of things I don’t want to do, Laurel. Do you think I wanted to sabotage your human parents? Wanted to make you forget? I do as I’m told. It’s why I watched you every day, before Tamani came along. Why I know everything there is to know about you. The heirloom bowl you broke and lied about. The dog you buried outside your window, because you couldn’t bear to have him further away. The time you spent with Tamani, out at the cabin in October.”
“Shar,” Tamani said, his voice a clear warning.
“I gave you what space I could,” Shar said quietly, his voice at last holding a hint of remorse. But the tiny apology was clearly extended to Tamani, not to Laurel; the sudden urge to stride across the room and slap Shar across the face was stifled only by her paralysing rage.
Yuki’s smile faded. “This is the force you’ve allied with, Laurel? I may not have always been truthful with you, but even I thought you were better than these monsters.” She looked down at the salt encircling her chair. “A little swish of your foot and I can put a stop to this. I’ll take you with me and show you how wrong Avalon is. And you can help me make it right.”
Laurel stared at the salt. Part of her wanted to do it, just to lash out at Shar. “How do you know about Avalon?”
“Does it matter?” Yuki asked, her face unreadable.
“Maybe.”
“Set me free. I’ll give you the answers they’ve been keeping from you.”
“Don’t do it, Laurel,” Tamani said softly. “I don’t like it either, but letting her go doesn’t make anything better.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Laurel snapped, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the white circle at her feet.
Tamani drew back, silent.
Laurel wanted to kick the circle – she did. It was an irrational urge, one she knew she’d never act on, but hot tears pooled in her eyes as the desire burned in her throat.
“Laurel.” A soft hand touched her arm, pulling her back to reality. She turned to a white-faced Chelsea. “Come with me. We’ll talk it over, take a drive, whatever you need to cool down.”
Laurel stared at her friend, focusing on the one person in the room who had never hurt her, never wronged her. She nodded, not looking at anyone else. “Let’s go,” she said. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Once they were outside, Chelsea closed the door then stopped. “Damn it,” she cursed softly. “I put my keys down somewhere. Stupid dress with no pockets,” she muttered, gathering the hem so she wouldn’t trip on it. “I’ll be right back.”
She turned and the door opened before she could touch the knob.
“Keys,” Chelsea explained as she pushed past Tamani.
He pulled the door shut, leaving the two of them alone on the porch. She fixed her gaze on the stairwell, suddenly unwilling to look at him.
But then, he wasn’t meeting her eyes, either.
“I didn’t know,” Tamani whispered after a long pause. “I promise.”
“I know,” Laurel whispered. She put her back against the wall and slid down to the ground, hugging her knees. Her voice was flat even to her own ears. “My mom was an only child. Her dad left when she was a baby. It was just her and her mom. And then Grandma died too. Mom always wanted a big family. Five kids, she told me one day. She wanted five kids. But it never happened.”
She didn’t know why she was telling him this, but talking made her feel better somehow, so she kept going.
“They went to a ton of doctors and no one could figure out what was wrong. None of them. That basically cemented her mistrust
