Before I Wake Page 86


My dad closed the door, then sank onto the bed next to me, and his eyes swirled with concern. “What’s wrong, Kaylee?”

“I killed him.” The words burst from my mouth on the front edge of a sob, like they’d been waiting there all along. The room lost focus beneath my tears and as I stared at my hands in my lap, sniffling, trying to get myself under control, drops trailed down my cheeks to fall on my jeans.

My dad pulled me into a hug, and more of my tears soaked into his shirt. “No, Kaylee, you freed his soul and stopped Avari from wearing him like a costume.” He ran one hand over my hair, smoothing it against the back of my shirt. “You did your job, and I know it was hard, but if Alec were here, he’d thank you.”

“No.” I sniffled and blinked tears from my eyes, but more came to replace them. “Avari wasn’t wearing his soul, he was wearing Alec’s skin.” My words came out in staccato bursts, punctuated by half-choked sobs. “Alec was just possessed, and I killed him.”

“She didn’t know,” Tod said as my father reached for the box of tissues on my nightstand without letting go of me. “Neither of us did. He manipulated her. It wasn’t her fault.”

I shook my head, drowning in guilt. Choking on grief. “I should have known.” My fist clenched around a handful of my father’s shirt, and I couldn’t let it go. “He was my friend. I should have been able to tell the difference between my friend and a demon.”

“No, Kaylee, don’t do this to yourself.” My dad pulled away from me so he could see my face, and when I tried to wipe my cheeks with my bare fingers, he pressed a tissue into my hand. “This is what he wants.” My father’s whole face was twisted with pain, for me. For Alec. For all of us caught up in Avari’s carnival of lies and torment. “He wants you to suffer.”

“I want me to suffer.” I blotted my face with the tissue, then wadded it into a ball I couldn’t stop squeezing. “I should have known better, Dad. With hellions, the truth hides in what they don’t say.” Since they couldn’t outright lie, they’d become masters of implication and manipulation. “He never actually said Alec was dead.” I’d gone over everything Avari had said a dozen times since I’d woken up in Tod’s bed. “I should have known better.”

“Kaylee, Avari has spent hundreds—maybe thousands—of years perfecting the art of misdirection. And he had more than a quarter of a century to learn how to imitate Alec in particular.” My dad ducked to catch my gaze. “There’s no way you could have known. There’s no way anyone could have known.”

But that didn’t help. As badly as I wanted to let them comfort me, their words held no weight. I’d killed him. I should have known better. The guilt was mine tobear, and neither of them had the power to absolve me of that.

“Kaylee.” Tod looked blurry through my tears, and I wanted to touch him, but that wouldn’t be fair. Alec would never touch anyone again, and that was my fault, so I didn’t deserve comfort. “Alec wouldn’t blame you for this, so you have no right to blame yourself. Give credit where it’s due. Avari did this. He used you and your dagger just like he used Alec’s body. I understand why you feel guilty, and I know that’s going to be hard to overcome. But what you should feel is anger. This wasn’t a tragic accident. It was a crime, committed not by you, but by Avari. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to make him pay for that.”

I nodded. I was ready. “How? How do you hurt a hellion?” It was the age-old question, without answer for who knew how many thousands of years.

“Let’s start by starving him,” Tod said. “He feeds from pain, and yours is his favorite flavor. So cut him off. Turn your pain into anger, and he can’t feed from it. You have a responsibility to make sure that Avari’s not profiting from his crime.” He shrugged and summoned a small, crooked smile. “Anger’s more productive, anyway.”

I couldn’t help but notice my father’s look of surprise. And respect. And a tiny ray of hope shined through the clouds thick on my emotional horizon. I wanted my dad to love Tod as much as I did. Just not in the same way.

“Okay?” Tod said, and I nodded. Letting go of the pain would be much harder than embracing the anger, but he was right. Avari didn’t deserve even a taste of my grief over Alec.

I took another tissue and wiped my face, and my father looked at Tod, fresh worry twisting in his irises. “How much trouble are we looking at from the police?”

“None, hopefully.” Tod met my dad’s gaze boldly. “I took care of it. They’ll never know she was there.”

“Thank you.”

I tossed both tissues in the trash and glanced at the time on my alarm clock. It was after midnight. “You’re late for work,” I said, and Tod shrugged.

“Levi’s taking this shift for me, to give me a break.”

I had no words to express my relief. I didn’t want to be awake all night, alone, even for the few hours Sabine would actually sleep. “Will you stay?” I turned to my dad. “Can he stay the night? Please? We’ll leave the door open, I swear.”

My dad actually chuckled. “Considering everything that’s conspired to take my little girl away from me in the past few weeks, I have to admit I’m thankful that you’d actually ask for permission. Of course he can stay. But I’m going to hold you to that open-door promise.” He was looking at Tod then, not me.

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