I was about to erase the message. Then I stopped, seeing the words.
Ciro Halloran. Lucy Madole. Lamiae. Ricky.
Another came in.
I can help you.
I slid off Lydia's desk. "I need to talk to Pamela. If Gabriel comes back early, can you give me a head start before you tell him?"
"Enough time so he can't catch up and stop you?"
"Please. Pamela's being a pain in the ass, and I don't want him dealing with her. I'll shut her down myself."
--
I arrived at the prison and was putting my phone in the glove compartment when it started to ring with Gabriel's tone. I hit Ignore, murmured an apology, tucked it away, and hurried off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I was ready to do battle with Pamela. Ready for that wide I'm-so-happy-to-see-you smile that lights up her face and makes me feel guilty for cutting her out of my life. Ready for the I-just-want-to-protect-you-Eden bullshit that led to a good man's death.
But for the first time, my mother walked into the visiting room with her head high, no hint of a smile on her face. No smiles for the guard, either. No whispered words of thanks for the escort, whom she dismissed with a flick of her fingers.
"Eden," Pamela said. "You got my message."
"I did."
"You're well?" Her gaze surveyed me. It was a thorough assessment, but a cool one, as if ensuring one's prize mare hadn't been injured. "Gabriel left me a message detailing all of your injuries and your prognosis and your release from the hospital." A humorless smile. "I would thank him for being so considerate, if it didn't come with a warning to stop contacting you. Screw him."
This was my mother. My real mother. Looking in her eyes right now, I could finally reconcile the woman before me with the one who'd murdered four people.
"What do you want, Pamela?" I asked. "You're offering me information. Therefore you want something. Quid pro quo. It's the Tylwyth Teg way."
That icy composure cracked at the edges. My mother hates the fae, even if we both share their blood.
"I want to renew contact," she said. "With you."
My laugh came harsh. "Bullshit. I see through you now, Pamela. Don't play the doting mother--"
"You don't see me at all, Eden. And yes, I will call you that. You are Eden to me. You are Eden to your father, even if he is more circumspect. I am the doting mother. I'm simply not the kind of doting mother you're comfortable with--the one who bakes cookies and sings you to sleep. Look to your father for that sort of love. Look to me for protection."
"All right. Since we seem to be putting our cards on the table, let me lay out mine. Don't ever use that word with me again."
"Mother?"
"Protection. We both know where your maternal protection led, and I'm sick of hearing how everything is for my own good. Move on."
Her lips curved and that ice thawed, just a little. "Good girl. Consider the matter set aside. Yes, I do want something. I want a place in your life, and if I need to bribe you to get it, then that's what I'll do."
"You said you have information on the lamiae murders. From where?"
"The same place I get many special treats these days, Eden. I've always had benefactors. In the past, the Cwn Annwn looked after me. That was the deal--if we were convicted, they would make prison easier for me and your father."
"So this information comes from the Cwn Annwn?"
"No, they have made sure I am safe in here and never need to worry about anything as trivial as my commissary fund. But it's not as if they visit me or seek my favor by offering useful information."
"Which someone now is."