“Are things getting serious with Will?”

I almost laughed. The sound I made instead was cold and bitter. “Depends on how you look at it.”

“You know that if it gets that kind of serious,” she said tentatively, “you can come to me. You can talk to me about anything.”

I forced a smile, wishing that was true. For a moment, I wanted to tell her everything. About what really happened last night, about who Will really was, who I really was. She’d throw me into a psych ward without a doubt, but at least I wouldn’t have to lie anymore. “Okay.”

“Come down for lunch, okay? You won’t be grounded from eating.”

“Okay.” I wiped at my face, watching her leave and close the door behind her. Suddenly I felt the weight of having not slept for twenty-four hours and was desperate to crash.

I could sense him before he’d even appeared out of the Grim, his achingly familiar scent and presence washing over me like waterfall. A hand came from nowhere and took my wrist, but I didn’t fight him. He pulled me into him, his hands now gentle on my face and neck as he examined me for injury, his fingers moving along my jaw to lift my chin. His crystalline green eyes hardened at the sight of the fading red marks on my throat.

“I’m going to kill him,” Will snarled, biting back a rage that consumed him like fire. I’d never seen him more furious, but still he touched me as if my skin were made of glass. His control over that combination of emotions was frightening.

“No,” I said clearly and coldly. “He’s still my father. If I want him dead, I’ll do it myself.”

“I don’t care. No one touches you like that.”

“He’s human.”

“He’s a monster.”

If I had permitted it, he would’ve, without a doubt, gone after my dad. “You can’t protect me from everything,” I said gently.

“Yes, I can.” His shoulders eased as he took a long, tired breath. He brushed away my tears with his thumbs, and I closed my eyes at his touch, soaking in the kindness and pushing out the abuse I had just endured. I savored it. I closed the last few inches between our bodies until we touched, and I slid my hands up his back to hold him even tighter. I buried my face in his chest as his cheek touched my hair. He lifted my face and leaned over to kiss my temple, lips brushing my skin, and then he kissed my cheek. I pulled him closer, waiting for his lips to touch mine, but he stopped and his hands fell to my waist.

“I can’t do this,” he said faintly, his breath soft on my cheek.

I closed my eyes as a new tear rolled down my cheek and he slid out of my hands. When I opened my eyes again, he was halfway across my room.

“If I let this get too far,” he said, “I won’t be able to protect you, because Michael will execute me.”

“It’s already gone too far,” I said tiredly.

His shoulders sagged and his head hung as his gaze fell away. He’d retreated back into himself once again, drawing closed the shutters that revealed his emotions.

“Is it true, what you told your mother?” he asked.

“You heard?” I wasn’t angry or surprised. It was a question I already knew the answer to.

He bit his upper lip, and my heart sank. He looked at me as though he’d been destroyed inside and was slowly caving in on himself. “Do you really think this is ruining you?”

I ran my fingers through my hair roughly and shrugged, throwing out my hands. “I feel so broken inside. I can’t keep fighting like this and trying to live a life at the same time.”

“Then I’m right,” he said, his voice cracking, his eyes barely able to look into mine. “About you and me—I’ve only made it harder for you. It’s my fault. We can’t do this. We’ve changed.”

A spark of anger ignited in my throat. “The only thing that changed was you kissing me. We’ve always felt this way about each other. That never changed.”

“And it only proves what a mistake it was to do that.”

Another tear came down my face. “What was a mistake? Do you regret kissing me, or being in love with me, or both?”

He hesitated for the longest moment of my life. “They’re both mistakes, but I don’t regret them.”

“You’re an idiot if that’s what you think,” I said, my anger flaring. “How we feel about each other makes us stronger. It makes us fight harder for each other. You’re standing there and telling me you can’t let Michael kill you because you don’t trust anyone else to be my Guardian. Will, you’re the best not just because you’re the strongest. You protect me like no one else can because you love me. Fighting it weakens us. We’re tearing ourselves apart!”

He took a deep, quivering breath. “We can’t argue about this now. Your parents could come back.”

I could see in his eyes that he knew I was right, and still he was denying it. “Then go. I don’t want you here,” I lied.

His hands rolled into fists. “Fine,” he said sharply, trying to hide the anger in his voice. “I’ll go, but I want you to know that if he does touch you again, I will kill him, because I know you won’t do it.”

Then he vanished, and an icy breeze billowed the drapes over my open window. I squeezed my eyes shut and let myself cry.

15

I DIDN’T SEE MY DAD FOR DAYS, BUT I DIDN’T CARE if I ever saw him again. Mom had told him her decision, and he was supposed to be gone soon anyway. Already I could sense her growing relief at the prospect of him leaving, but every moment he was home, she was stiff with fear. I couldn’t stand seeing my mom so afraid. I knew my dad was physically powerless against me, the Preliator, but the pain he inflicted on my heart was crippling. I was more than ready to move on from him.