“Yes,” Gabriel said. “You can still kill her. You are in a position to do so. If you thought that would hurt me, I believe you can realize your mistake now. I don’t care. Yes, she’s marked. Yes, what she did to me isn’t entirely her fault. Yet she still did it. I still had to live through it, and it was more than the lack of a soul. Seanna made choices. So while I would never take that pillow and finish the job, I do not particularly care if you do. Nor does Patrick. Nor does Grace. There’s only one person here who cares.”

His gaze went to me, and Pamela’s followed.

“Please,” I said.

She laid down the knife and the pillow and walked out of the room.

CHAPTER FORTY

I went after Pamela, and I found her at the window, looking out.

“We need to get you back to the hospital,” I said. “Before anyone finds out you escaped.”

She nodded, holding the curtain, gazing into the night.

“Is there…is there anything you want first?” I said. “Before you go back?”

She turned, a smile playing on her lips. “Is that my reward, for doing as you asked, Eden? You’ll take me out for ice cream before I go back to jail?”

“No, I just—”

“I’m teasing. You’re distraught. I can see that. I hope I’ve made the right choice. I’m still not convinced I have. I didn’t understand half of what you and Gabriel said in there, about marks and sluagh, and I fear you’re both in over your head. That the fae have tricked you, and leaving Seanna alive was a mistake.”

“It’s not. I know it’s not.”

She opened her mouth to argue. Then she shut it. After a long moment, she said, “All right, then. You asked what I’d like to do. That fae—Gabriel’s father—said you’re living in a house now. The old Carew house. That’s what I’d like for my reward. To see a sliver of my daughter’s new life. Show me your home, Eden.”

—

We didn’t get out of the apartment building so quickly. When I turned around, Walter was there, talking to Grace and Patrick.

I tried to get Pamela to the door, but then the dryads woke up and, well, they were as pissed off as dryads can be, realizing Patrick had sprinkled fairy dust in the wine he brought.

“I’m going,” I said as I dodged the mob of angry and indignant and unapologetic fae. “I really need to get Pamela back to the hospital before there’s an APB out on her.”

“Let me—” Patrick began.

“Yeah, no. Not now. Not ever.”

“I’ll meet you at the hospital, Pamela,” Patrick said. “I’ll smooth your re-entry.”

Patrick left as Alexios went after him, still telling him off.