Ilona Andrews - On the Edge

Georgie nodded.

“I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I need you to come to the porch.”

“I need the bathroom first,” he said.

“Do you need help getting there?”

Georgie gave her a long look. She sighed and left him to it. When she finally got married, if she ever got married, she hoped her first child would be a cute little girl. A cute, sweet, harmless little girl.

ÉLÉONORE stepped into the kitchen, mentally steeling herself. She had only a few minutes before Rose would return from Georgie’s room.

Declan rose at her approach with a polite shallow bow and a narrow smile. “Bonjour, Madame.”

“Bonjour, Monsieur.” She sat into a chair and continued in French. “I would like to speak about my granddaughter.”

His face turned cold. The smile remained, but it gained that polite, icy tint the bluebloods adopted when they wanted to strangle the conversation with courtesy.

“I want there to be no misunderstandings,” she continued. “This isn’t an attempt on my part to broker some sort of tryst between the two of you. On the contrary.”

His eyebrows crept up a fraction of an inch. He really was a blindingly handsome boy. “Do you find me unworthy of your granddaughter, Madame ?”

Inwardly Éléonore groaned. She was out of practice. “I have no doubt as to your pedigree. I merely wish you to understand the situation clearly. If you’re willing to listen, of course.”

“I’m all ears, Madame ,” he assured her.

Éléonore took a deep breath. “My husband abandoned me a number of times during our marriage. I say this not to gain some sympathy for myself. It’s simply a fact. He loved me passionately, but he loved the sea more. Because I suffered without him, I did my best to raise my son with a sense of responsibility for his family. Unfortunately, I failed miserably. Just like his father, John abandoned his wife and children frequently. Growing up, Rose had learned that ‘father’ is a temporary presence in one’s life.”

She fell silent. Finding the words proved harder than she realized. “ Pardon . This is difficult for me. Rose’s mother was traumatized by the untimely death of her parents, and in her final years she sought to stave off her mortality by any means necessary, usually by finding solace in the arms of any man who would have her. Eventually even that remedy failed and she died. Rose was an adolescent and the boys were mere babies. Thus, my grandchildren were abandoned both by their mother and by their father.”

She glanced at Declan, but his face was earnestly polite and about as transparent as a cement block.

“Then Rose flashed white. You must understand, my lord, it’s been over a century since an Edger flashed white. She was just a child, barely eighteen, and not at all equipped to either anticipate or deal with the consequences. Due to her mother’s loose behavior, it was assumed that Rose was the child of an out-of-wedlock liaison. Overnight she became a valuable commodity. First, her flash made her desirable as a powerful addition to any family; second, her magic hinted at the possibility of blueblood ancestry; and third . . . my granddaughter is lovely, as I’m sure you haven’t failed to notice.”

“Indeed, Madame .”

His tone was perfectly neutral and pleasant. If he Madame ’d her one more time, she would have to throw something at him.

“Rose had a terrible life,” Éléonore said bluntly. “For almost a year, she was literally hunted. The Edger families wanted her for her power, the borderland blueblood families wanted her for breeding, and those who didn’t want her, hated her. Envy can be a terrible thing. Her mother’s exploits already made her a pariah, and her flash only exacerbated the problem. What few friends she had abandoned her. Her boyfriend—who is a terrible creature—betrayed her. We had weathered a siege and arson and being shunned. The slaver was by far the worst. He had arrived under the pretense of courting Rose, promised her the security and acceptance she so desperately wanted, and nearly won, if not her heart, then at least her mind. Fortunately his identity was discovered, but the damage was done. She has learned the lesson again and again: people, men in particular, cannot be trusted. I watched this damage happen, and I was powerless to stop it. Finally after a year of this chaos, things have calmed. My son was there for her during that year. Even he understood that his family couldn’t survive this storm without him. That is the longest he had ever spent with his family. However, as soon as pressure lessened, he escaped. He ran away from his own children in the middle of the night, once again abandoning the boys to Rose’s care.”

She took a deep breath. “It was the final betrayal, my lord. It wounded Rose very badly, and she’s determined to spare her brothers this hurt at all costs. She put her life on hold, so her brothers would never know what it’s like to be abandoned. A young girl is a creature of dreams, my lord. A woman with one foot in the world of fantasy, searching for the face of true love in every handsome boy she sees. Rose has no fantasies. One would expect a woman who has gone through her trials to be bitter and angry, but she isn’t. She’s kind, sweet, selfless, and generous, and I thank my lucky stars for this every day.”

Éléonore rose, buoyed by her anger. He got up as well.

“I’m sure that you’re successful in your pursuits of female attention,” she said. “I’m sure that there is a trail of broken hearts in your wake, and you probably look at it fondly, remembering your past conquests. For some young women, being swept off her feet by a man such as you might be thrilling. It might even be a good lesson in the nature of the male species. However, Rose has no illusions to soothe her and no parents to reassure her. If you break her heart, it will shatter my granddaughter. It will destroy her utterly, turning her into a bitter wreck. So I implore you, my lord, to leave her in peace. You don’t need her as your trophy. And if you won’t, I swear to you that I’ll curse you with my dying breath. We both know the power such a curse carries.”

Declan bowed. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

She growled under her breath and stomped into the depths of the house, not sure if she had accomplished more harm than good.

ROSE stuck her head into the kitchen. Declan sat at the table, his eyes lost in thought. A smile curved his lips.

“Come outside,” she said. “We need to be in the yard for the next challenge.”

He followed her to the porch, where she sat in a chair and he leaned against the rail. She stared at the trees shrouded in morning fog.

Declan cleared his throat. They had managed to keep from saying a single word to each other during breakfast, but now he looked as if he had something to say.

“I lost my temper yesterday,” he said. “My sincerest apologies. It won’t happen in the future.”

“I’m also sorry. I shouldn’t have been quite so . . . dramatic.”

They looked at each other.

“My behavior aside,” he continued, “I meant everything I said.”

She stuck her chin in the air. “So did I.”

“Very well.”

“Indeed.”

He sat back down, and she picked a spot as far from him as the porch steps would allow.

“Also,” he said after a small pause, “your funeral cake was delicious.”

“Funnel. Funnel cake. I’ll get you the recipe. It’s similar to pancakes.”

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence. She broke it first. “Don’t you think it’s dangerous to do this challenge, with Casshorn waiting for the right opportunity?”

“We’ve destroyed a large number of his hounds,” Declan said. “Since I’m his primary target, he’ll need to build up his forces before he attacks again. We’re safe for two days, maybe three.”