Kimber chuckled. “I made it according to the actual recipe instead of spiking it like I usually do. There’s one tablespoon of whiskey in the whole batch. Now drink up before it starts to get that nasty hot-milk film on top.”
I took a sip and let out an appreciative “mmm.” It was as rich and creamy as I remembered, and Kimber had obviously used extra honey this time because it was deliciously sweet as well. I’m sure it was just the power of suggestion, but I swear my headache dimmed as I drank the posset down.
I drank the whole capful in no time flat, and Kimber instantly refilled it. She still had that vulnerable, shy look on her face.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, then took another soothing sip.
She huffed out a deep breath, then smiled at me. “I believe Ethan was right and I was being paranoid.” The smile faded, and she stared at her hands. “I was afraid that after everything that’s happened, you’d think I led you into an ambush at that boutique.”
I was genuinely shocked by the suggestion. Obviously, I’m not the most trusting of people, but I’d never once suspected Kimber had any involvement in the attack, and I told her so.
I hadn’t realized just how tense she was until her whole body relaxed.
“Why would you expect me to think you had anything to do with it?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I guess I’m still trying to deal with my guilty conscience about … before.”
“That’s water under the bridge,” I told her, and realized all the anger I’d felt when I’d discovered her and Ethan’s deception had faded away. I grinned. “I let Ethan off the hook because he saved my life. And you brought me hot posset, so you can’t be all bad.”
Kimber answered my grin with one of her own. “I told you hot posset is the cure for everything.”
Maybe it was the placebo effect, but I felt much better after two cups of hot posset. So much so that I was even able to face my delicious evening meal of rubber chicken, instant mashed potatoes, and mushy peas.
By the time I decided to call it a night and go back to sleep, Finn had replaced Lachlan again, and I was beginning to wonder why neither my father nor my mother had visited me. I supposed it was possible my mom was too drunk. She had, after all, been through quite a traumatic experience. But that didn’t explain my dad’s absence, and when I questioned Finn about it, he just told me my dad was a busy man. He didn’t bother to make that sound like the truth. But no amount of questioning would make him change his story.
My parents didn’t visit the next day, either, though both Ethan and Kimber stopped by. (And yes, Kimber brought more hot posset.) I’d half-hoped Keane would come—though probably his attitude wasn’t good for my health—but he didn’t. Silly of me to expect him, of course. And even sillier to be hurt that he hadn’t come. He was just my self-defense instructor, after all, not my friend.
I tried questioning Lachlan about why Mom and Dad weren’t visiting, but he was about as informative as Finn. I had a really bad feeling about all this, although when I asked, everyone assured me that my mom was fine.
My dad finally made his appearance on the morning of my third day in the hospital. I was still running a low-grade fever, but I was feeling much better, and the nurse who’d stopped by first thing in the morning told me I’d be free to go home after the doctor examined me one more time.
Finn was on guard duty when Dad arrived, but he hastily vacated the room and closed the door behind him. I didn’t like the look on my dad’s face, so guarded and almost … wary. I raised my bed so I could sit up comfortably, since I suspected we were about to have a conversation I shouldn’t take lying down.
I’d been so worried about my mom—not to mention traumatized by my little swim in the moat—that I hadn’t taken the time to consider my dad’s feelings. But as I looked at him and hedidn’t speak, I finally recognized the emotion I saw, the one he was trying so hard to guard: hurt.
My gaze skittered away from him, and I hung my head. I hadn’t known him very long, and he hadn’t even known I’d existed until less than a month ago, but he’d deserved better from me than to have me sneak away in the middle of the night without even leaving him a note. Even if my escape had been successful, Dad would probably have thought I’d somehow gotten kidnapped or murdered right under his nose.
“I’m sorry I tried to leave like that,” I said, looking at my hands, which were folded in my lap, rather than at him.
Dad didn’t answer. I finally couldn’t stand the silence, so I turned to look at him again. He shook his head, and it took everything I had not to turn away in shame.
“You could have died,” he said softly. “You almost did. And if Grace had succeeded in taking you to Faerie, it would have been even worse.”
I dropped my gaze again. “I know. But the three of you were going to lock me away somewhere, and you’d made it very clear I had no say in anything. I couldn’t stand to live like that.”
“Better to live like that than as Grace’s pet in Faerie!” he snapped. “Better to live like that than to die!”
I’d never seen my dad this angry before. It was a scary sight. His face was flushed, his eyes piercing, his fists clenched into white-knuckled fists. I even felt the distinctive prickle of magic in the air, though the cameo was safely tucked into a bedside drawer. I guess I no longer needed its help to sense the magic.
I waited in tense silence, hardly daring to breathe. I didn’t really think my dad would hurt me, but he looked like he wanted to in the worst way.
Finally, he let out a harsh breath and unclenched his fists. The magical prickle faded, and some of the angry color faded from his face. He still didn’t exactly look happy with me, but at least he no longer looked like he was contemplating killing me himself.
“I have tried as best I can to treat you as a responsible adult,” he said, each word precise and clipped. “I’ve been honest with you when pretty lies might have been more expedient. But it seems I misjudged you.”
I winced. Dad was obviously a pro at the parental guilt-trip thing. So much so that I felt like I had to defend myself more.
“It wasn’t all because I wanted to get away from Avalon,” I said. “Mom promised she’d check herself into a rehab if I went home with her.” I stared at my hands as I plucked nervously at the sheet. “You don’t know what it’s been like, watching her destroy herself. And she’s never even been able to admit she has a problem, much less tried to get help. I had a chance to try to save her from herself, and I couldn’t not take it.”
Dad came to sit on the edge of my bed. I didn’t want to look in his face, didn’t want to see the anger and hurt and—maybe even worse—disappointment in his eyes. He reached out and covered both my hands in one of his, but I still didn’t look at him.
“Dana, my child, I am not a young man. I have lived in Avalon and among humans for centuries. And if there is one thing I know, it’s that there is no saving them from their own self-destructive behaviors unless they want to be saved. I can understand why blackmailing your mother into going into a rehab would sound like a good idea to you, but even if you’d gotten away with no complications, and she followed through on her promise, it wouldn’t have worked.
“You can’t force her to dry out, not for any significant period of time. Maybe she would have stayed sober for a few weeks or even months, but she would have been drinking again in no time.”
I pulled my hands out from under his. “You can’t know that! If she had stopped drinking, she’d see everything she’d been missing because she was drunk all the time and that would give her a reason to stay sober. She’s just too out of it most of the time to realize the consequences of what she’s doing.”
Dad sighed. “I think in your heart you know that I’m right. There was a reason you came looking for me, and it wasn’t because your heart was full of hope for your mother’s recovery.”
Now it was my turn to be mad, and I glared at him. “Don’t try to tell me what I think and feel.”