He looked at me, startled. “I’ve been working.”

“Right,” I said. “Exactly my point. You don’t need to babysit me. Especially if I’m paying you by the hour.”

Ricky turned on Gabriel. “You’re billing her?”

“Of course he isn’t,” Rose said.

Gabriel addressed me. “If I left that impression, I apologize. Basic legal services are covered, as a benefit, under your employee contract.”

“Can I speak to you, Gabriel?” Rose said. “In the kitchen, please?”

“It’s okay,” I said. “We’re going.”

We hurried into the hall. TC was on the stairs. Before he could escape, Ricky scooped him up and stroked his head. TC flattened his ears and glowered at me as if to say, Fix this.

“He, um, doesn’t like being picked up,” I said.

“He’s just not accustomed to it. I’m going to change that.”

He lifted TC toward me. The cat kept his ears flattened, and slitted his eyes, looking like a grumpy little old man. I stifled a laugh, shook my head, and reached for the doorknob. My phone buzzed with a text. It was Gabriel.

We need to speak to Rose.

I replied, I know. But not while Ricky’s here.

Tell him to stay at your apartment.

I gritted my teeth, sent back, He’s not a dog, and stuffed the phone in my pocket.

“Gabriel’s texting you from the parlor?” Ricky said. When I looked surprised, he said, “I can tell who it is by the way you replied. Like you were poking someone with a sharp stick.”

I shrugged and grumbled under my breath. We walked out and down the front steps.

“Want to know the trick to dealing with Gabriel?” Ricky said. “Three words. Don’t take offense. No matter what he does or what he says. He probably doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, and even if he does, he intends no actual offense. You’d know if he did. Now, let’s get a coffee.”

“We just had tea.”

“Which we both gulped so fast we burned holes in our esophagi. What you need is a mocha. Come on.”

Ricky started down the sidewalk, TC still in his arms.

“Um, cat?” I said.

“A field trip. He’ll love it. We’ll get him a saucer of cream.”

—

After coffee, we hung out at my apartment for a few hours. At seven that evening, Ricky walked me over to Rose’s and handed me and TC off. He’d come by later, and we’d go back to my place for the night.

Gabriel had retreated to one of the upstairs bedrooms to work.

“Run up and get him,” Rose said.

I followed her into the kitchen and lowered my voice.

“Um, I’d rather speak to you alone for—”

She cut me off. “I know you’re annoyed with him, Olivia.”

“I’m not.”

“He handled that billing discussion badly.”

“If I let things like that bother me, I’d be permanently pissed off with him. I’ve learned what to expect, and not to expect anything more. We’re fine.”

It seemed a good way to put it, balancing honesty with diplomacy, but I could tell by her expression that it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. It can be hard knowing how to discuss Gabriel with Rose. She’s the first to acknowledge his flaws, but the first to defend him, too. Something in what I’d said rubbed her the wrong way.

So I continued. “He’s been great to me these last few days. I know he’s put his life on hold to help me, and maybe I haven’t been grateful enough about that.”

“If you make a big deal out of it, you’ll only make him uncomfortable. But he’ll want to be here when we discuss anything fae-related.”

“It’s something else. A vision, I think.”

My hands started to shake, and I stuffed them into my pockets.

“Olivia . . . ?”

“Ghosts,” I blurted. “Have you ever seen them? Do you believe in them?”

She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “What happened?”

“Before I found James, I . . . I saw him. In the Villa. Twice. The first time, it was just a moment. He was . . . confused. He didn’t know where he was. And then I saw him again, and he was still confused, but he tried to explain things to me. He—” I broke off with a “Shit,” and moved to the back door, looking out over the yard.

“Sorry,” I said after I’d regained my composure. “It’s still . . . raw. We’ll discuss this another time. Or maybe not. It was almost certainly just a vision or whatever in which I imagined him saying what I wanted to hear.”

“Was he wearing whatever you found him in? No, that’s not a question. It’s a fact, because otherwise, you’d already have dismissed it as a hallucination.”

“I—”

“You want it to be real, and you don’t want it to be real.”

Cold sweat beaded across my forehead and trickled between my shoulder blades. She was right. I didn’t want it to be real, because it only made it harder, made the guilt more unbearable.

All I wanted was to get you back. He said he’d help and then . . . it went wrong, and I don’t understand how. I know I hurt you, frightened you, and I don’t understand that, either. It seemed so simple. You were in danger, and I had to save you, and nothing else mattered.

I’d wanted an explanation, so badly. And here it was.