What a priceless gift it would be for Madeleine to be drawn to Hæra in such a way. Asgall had had an entire season to fascinate Jonathan, and Hæra was scrambling to keep Madeleine here beyond a single month. It just wasn’t fair. Why should Asgall have such power over Jonathan when he didn’t even want him?

“I doubt it’ll be a problem,” she said. “Madeleine said yesterday that she’s not in a hurry to see the beach. She wants to think about what she’s learned already, or something like that.”

“She does? You didn’t say anything about that last night.”

Hæra shrugged irritably. “I didn’t think of it.”

Jonathan’s gaze called her the liar she was. “I suppose you’re entitled to keep yourself to yourself. I’m only worried for you, lass. I know this means a lot to you, but I don’t know what it means to you.”

What was there to say? Jonathan wanted a human answer, all to do with love, nothing to do with appetite. If he knew Hæra had been planning to eat Madeleine for years, he’d never understand, just as Hæra didn’t understand why her plan suddenly wanted to change.

“I can’t explain,” she said, which was true enough. “I’m going now.”

Jonathan sighed. “I hope it goes well. Bring your mobile. You’re taking my car?”

“If that’s all right.” The Corsa would be a more comfortable mode of transportation if they needed it. Madeleine hadn’t complained about the Gator ride to the ferry, but she’d looked frazzled by the end of it.

“I’ve got no business elsewhere today. Just don’t hit anything. And wear the seat belt,” he added sharply.

“I’ll be careful,” Hæra promised. “Especially if she’s with me.”

Jonathan raised his eyebrows at that, though Hæra couldn’t see why. “That’s good,” he said eventually, with a little smile. “Have a care with her, and it’ll turn out all right.”

What an odd thing to say. Hæra could do nothing else. It was like telling her to remember to breathe.

The water pressure at the Merryweather Hotel was better than at Sacred Heart, but that wasn’t saying much. Madeleine had to rinse the shampoo from her thick hair for about twice as long as she’d gotten used to in her apartment.

It still felt good. She’d woken up sweaty after dreams she couldn’t remember clearly. At least they hadn’t involved Hæra doing forbidden things to Madeleine’s body. The Act of Hope must have worked.

Yes. Hopeful indeed.

Madeleine groaned to herself, finished her shower, and continued her morning routine. She’d slept in. It was nearly eight o’clock. Not that she had a packed itinerary or anything—or an itinerary at all, come to that.