Rituals (Cainsville 5)
"Did she gradually get worse?" I asked. "Or did it seem sudden?"
Rose took a long drink of her spiked tea, looking exhausted. "I don't even know anymore. We thought it was sudden, and then we thought maybe we'd been fooling ourselves that she was improving, and then...after a while, it was like putting our fingers in dike holes. We were so busy stopping the flood that we had no time to wonder when or how it started."
"But if you were to give me a rough estimate," I prodded.
"Around puberty. We thought it was that--typical teen rebellion. She ran away shortly after, and then her parents died and--" Rose's voice hitched. "She didn't care. That was the last straw for everyone else. Her parents died in a car accident while searching for her, and she couldn't even bother coming to the funeral. The rest of the family gave up."
"Except you."
Rose reached for a cookie. She didn't eat it. Just stared down at it. "No, even I gave up. I think that's part of what happened, what went so wrong with Seanna. I...I had my own issues. My life just...imploded? Exploded? All I know is that I wasn't there for Seanna. I had my personal meltdown, ended up in prison. After I made parole, I came home for her."
"To be here for her."
A twist of Rose's lips. "Too little, too late. Next thing I knew, she had Gabriel, and when I saw her again, I barely recognized her. I kept telling myself that skipping her parents' funeral was a misunderstanding, that deep down she loved them too much to intentionally miss it. I was wrong. The Seanna I met after I came home was exactly the sort of person who'd do that. She'd..."
"Lost something."
"Lost everything. Everything that mattered."
--
I stopped by Veronica's next. The ponytailed young woman who opened the door looked like a teenager. She was lamia, a Greek subtype of fae that cannot age their glamours. For lamiae, there are only two forms: the teen girl and their true one, a snakelike human.
When Pepper saw it was me, she blinked, and her eyes reverted to slitted pupils. Past trauma had left her unable to hold her glamour, but under Veronica's care--and with the fae energy of Cainsville--she was making progress. When I'd first met her four months earlier, she couldn't speak. Now she greeted me with, "Hey, come on in. It's been a while."
"We've been--"
"Busy, I know. That wasn't an accusation, Matil-- Liv. Sorry."
"You know you can call me that," I said as I walked in. "Only you, though."
"Which is why I try not to. It just slips."
The damage to Pepper had gone deeper than her ability to hold her shape. Not unlike Lloergan, she'd been psychically damaged. In her case, it caused mental impairment. That, too, had vastly improved, but if she stayed outside Cainsville too long, she started to revert. So she was here indefinitely, as a "Greek exchange student."
"If you're looking for Veronica, she's at another town meeting. I can let her know you're here. I'm sure she'd appreciate the excuse to leave early."
"Please."
Pepper texted Veronica.
"Give her five," she said. "Hot chocolate? No, you're a grown-up. I should offer you coffee."
I smiled. "Hot chocolate is fine."
Pepper loved her hot cocoa as much as I loved my mochas. In her case, "hot" was the biggest attraction. Her glamour issues meant that--like a snake--she was cold-blooded. That was improving, but the heat in the house was cranked to near eighty and she still wore a hoodie.
As she fixed the drinks, I looked at the papers and books spread over the kitchen table.
"That's our project," she said. "Mine and Veronica's. We're compiling a history of lamiae for her records. Patrick has lent us his books, which help bring back my memories--hereditary and personal."
"Sounds like a good project."
"Keeps me busy. Especially up here." She tapped her head and then handed me a steaming mug. "Patrick doesn't have a lot on Greek fae." She chewed her lip. "Which is an awkward...What's the word? When you switch topics?"
"Segue."
"Right. It's an awkward segue to something else. About Greek fae. Veronica says there are dryads in town."