you." Kind face turned to me. "Come on, Kendra. I know you've missed her."
Chest tightened. I thought of her every time I breathed the perfume of roses or felt the fresh touch of rain against my skin.
Daniel led us down the hallway to the last room on the right.
When her latent Clairvoyance Virtue surged to life, my mother stayed in this room battling insomnia and powerful nightmarish visions.
The room now held another Irisavie.
Daniel knocked then opened the slightly ajar door.
Everything was as I remembered it. Windowless white walls, yellowed with age. Faded and chipped pieces of furniture. A clinical sterility.
Forlornness hung in the air as if the room knew it had been abandoned.
The only changes were in the two people there.
Marcella looked so frail under crisp white hospital sheets. Sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks marked a retreating body pulling in on itself.
The man who sat beside her, holding her hand in his large brown ones, also looked worse for wear. Gabe, her mate and former Head Chevalier of Haverleau, was now a wasted version of his self.
Dark shadows circling his eyes made him appear bruised. He'd lost so much weight, it hurt to look at him.
"Gabe," Tristan said softly.
Light brown eyes glanced up, then flickered listlessly over Helene and me.
It'd taken too long to interpret a dream repeatedly plaguing me for several months. Gabe blamed me for what happened to Marcella and their unborn child.
Things remained broken between us.
"Come on." Tristan gestured. "Let's go out. You need fresh air."
For a moment, I thought he wouldn't go. But then his eyes fell on me and he stood.
My throat closed up. He didn't want to be in the same room with me.
"Come on, Helene."
Tristan lightly touched her back and she followed them out without question.
I pulled up a chair next to the bed. Fingers tentatively brushed my aunt's cheek. Her skin was cool and soft with only a trace of warmth.
"She doesn't look so good," I managed to say.
Daniel sighed. "I'm sorry, Kendra. I wish I had better news for you. But she's fading and there's not much more we can do."
Bones pushed against my fingertips. "Why is she so thin?"
"We've been feeding her intravenously but her body is refusing to accept it," he said gently. "It's similar to what you see with cancer patients. For a while, the same thing happened with Miriam when I treated her last year..." he stopped abruptly.
Chloe's mother, Miriam Moreaux, had been diagnosed with throat cancer prior to becoming Aquidae. She'd stated in her trial that her body's constant weakness was why she turned.
"You treated her here?"
Daniel nodded. "She was my patient."
A silky raven lock grazed my knuckles. I remembered how her vibrant exuberance struck me the moment I first met her in Pelletier's office.
"Will she make it?"
The question felt heavy on my tongue.
"Most likely not."
His voice was so very compassionate.
I'd expected it, had left for New York prepared to take over as Irisavie heir because of it.
But his answer still felt like a blade slicing through my heart.
Fingers tightened around my aunt's hand and I willed her to take from me. Energy, life, magic, something.
But there was only time's inevitable march toward the end.
"If there's any change in her...you know... either way." I cleared my throat. "Can you call me directly? I want to know as soon as possible."
I needed to hear it directly from him. Not from Jeeves, Tristan, or my grandmother.
A warm hand rested on my shoulder. "I will."
Once I got the shakiness under control, I stood. Leaning over my aunt, I brushed a few strands of that glorious hair away from her face and pressed my cheek to hers.
In the rich quiet between my space and hers, I whispered the most important truth I wanted her to know.
"I came back, Marcella."
By the time Tristan drove us through the wrought-iron gates of Haverleau, calm focus had settled over me.
This was the home Marcella protected and I would do the same.
We made our
Chest tightened. I thought of her every time I breathed the perfume of roses or felt the fresh touch of rain against my skin.
Daniel led us down the hallway to the last room on the right.
When her latent Clairvoyance Virtue surged to life, my mother stayed in this room battling insomnia and powerful nightmarish visions.
The room now held another Irisavie.
Daniel knocked then opened the slightly ajar door.
Everything was as I remembered it. Windowless white walls, yellowed with age. Faded and chipped pieces of furniture. A clinical sterility.
Forlornness hung in the air as if the room knew it had been abandoned.
The only changes were in the two people there.
Marcella looked so frail under crisp white hospital sheets. Sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks marked a retreating body pulling in on itself.
The man who sat beside her, holding her hand in his large brown ones, also looked worse for wear. Gabe, her mate and former Head Chevalier of Haverleau, was now a wasted version of his self.
Dark shadows circling his eyes made him appear bruised. He'd lost so much weight, it hurt to look at him.
"Gabe," Tristan said softly.
Light brown eyes glanced up, then flickered listlessly over Helene and me.
It'd taken too long to interpret a dream repeatedly plaguing me for several months. Gabe blamed me for what happened to Marcella and their unborn child.
Things remained broken between us.
"Come on." Tristan gestured. "Let's go out. You need fresh air."
For a moment, I thought he wouldn't go. But then his eyes fell on me and he stood.
My throat closed up. He didn't want to be in the same room with me.
"Come on, Helene."
Tristan lightly touched her back and she followed them out without question.
I pulled up a chair next to the bed. Fingers tentatively brushed my aunt's cheek. Her skin was cool and soft with only a trace of warmth.
"She doesn't look so good," I managed to say.
Daniel sighed. "I'm sorry, Kendra. I wish I had better news for you. But she's fading and there's not much more we can do."
Bones pushed against my fingertips. "Why is she so thin?"
"We've been feeding her intravenously but her body is refusing to accept it," he said gently. "It's similar to what you see with cancer patients. For a while, the same thing happened with Miriam when I treated her last year..." he stopped abruptly.
Chloe's mother, Miriam Moreaux, had been diagnosed with throat cancer prior to becoming Aquidae. She'd stated in her trial that her body's constant weakness was why she turned.
"You treated her here?"
Daniel nodded. "She was my patient."
A silky raven lock grazed my knuckles. I remembered how her vibrant exuberance struck me the moment I first met her in Pelletier's office.
"Will she make it?"
The question felt heavy on my tongue.
"Most likely not."
His voice was so very compassionate.
I'd expected it, had left for New York prepared to take over as Irisavie heir because of it.
But his answer still felt like a blade slicing through my heart.
Fingers tightened around my aunt's hand and I willed her to take from me. Energy, life, magic, something.
But there was only time's inevitable march toward the end.
"If there's any change in her...you know... either way." I cleared my throat. "Can you call me directly? I want to know as soon as possible."
I needed to hear it directly from him. Not from Jeeves, Tristan, or my grandmother.
A warm hand rested on my shoulder. "I will."
Once I got the shakiness under control, I stood. Leaning over my aunt, I brushed a few strands of that glorious hair away from her face and pressed my cheek to hers.
In the rich quiet between my space and hers, I whispered the most important truth I wanted her to know.
"I came back, Marcella."
By the time Tristan drove us through the wrought-iron gates of Haverleau, calm focus had settled over me.
This was the home Marcella protected and I would do the same.
We made our
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