Chapter 27
Wouldn't You Do Anything?
IRIS
I don’t argue when Elliot directs Dame to take me home. I could use a moment to myself and a shower. Plus, I’m not interested in hanging around Crescent House without him. Even though I’m claimed, the stares never really stop, not unless he’s there.
Dame is kind enough to walk me, but once inside, he hovers like I might fall apart at any moment and leave my head, legs, and arms sprawled about the room like a broken doll.
So the moment he starts pacing, I send him on his way.
Which seemed like the right decision until I realized I actually don’t want to be alone right now.
The apartment is too empty, and the quiet feels suddenly stifling as I stand in the middle of our little living room, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do.
Elliot’s been detained for a crime I committed. There’s a psychotic demon running around trying to blackmail me. I still can’t find my favorite book. And most importantly, but possibly the worst news of all, is that I think I’m in love with Elliot Cross.
“Oh, fuck me,” I mutter, collapsing onto the sofa to stare at the ceiling.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh fates!” I curse, spinning and practically jumping out of my skin at the sound of Elsie’s voice.
“Girl!” I shout. “You scared the shit out of me. Did you just wink in here?”
She nods, a little smile on her face that tells me she thinks she’s very funny. Little does she know I almost threw the remote at her head.
“Yeah,” she says. “I just came to—”
“Change?” I finish for her, dropping back down onto the couch.
“Yeah.”
Her usually soft voice wilts, and I feel guilty for shaming her for her constant disappearing act as she takes a seat beside me.
“Is everything alright?” she asks, probing gently. “You seemed a little on edge last night. I saw Elliot dock that wolf, was he—”
“It’s not Elliot,” I say, before she can think to blame him.
She nods, but doesn’t say anything more. Elsie’s not one to pry. If I tell her ‘I’m fine,’ I know she’ll leave me be. But as I look at her round face, pinched tight with worry, ‘I’m fine’ is not what comes out when I open my mouth.
What comes out instead is an endless stream of worries, built up over the last three months, one after the other, like an involuntary confession.
I tell her about Grey, I tell her about my new “friend,” I even tell her about Elliot and the funny feeling I get when I think about him.
Like magic swirling in my stomach or the way your heart stops for a second when a rollercoaster drops.
I tell her everything. It spills out of me in one massive breath while Elsie sits patiently, frown growing deeper and deeper until, at last, I manage to stuff my tongue back in and come up for air.
It takes her a moment to process all that I’ve said, and the living room is quiet as we stare at each other. But eventually the pieces slot together, and she stands, resting her hands on her hips, glaring at me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks.
“I know,” I sigh. “It’s a lot, and I know you’ve got something going on that you don’t want to tell me about, or can’t tell me about, but I needed to—”
She cuts me off.
“I’ve been winking in and out of here like a ghost all term, and someone’s been blackmailing you for three months? And you’re just now telling me about it?”
Her hands flail, and she looks around the room in awe before reassuming her stance.
“I knew you were acting weird!” she says, eyes narrowed. “I just thought it was Elliot hogging you. I figured you needed time to yourselves, but…” she stops her rambling, straightening abruptly. “Wait. You’re in love with Elliot?”
“Did I say that? I don’t think I said that.”
I hope I didn’t say that.
“No,” Elsie interrupts my panic. “But I’m not stupid. I can read between the lines. You love him.”
“No, I just…he’s…”
My words fail me as I recall Elliot’s tender embrace. The heat of his kiss and the hum of his heart beneath my fingers. I can still feel his power pooling inside of me, sating my need, warming every inch of me from the inside out. It’s a feeling I haven’t felt in quite some time. Possibly ever.
Denying it feels like doing him a disservice. But what difference would it make to speak the truth aloud? Last night changed nothing. Not for him anyway.
“Oh my gods…” Elsie’s eyes turn down, and she returns to the seat beside me. “You do, don’t you?”
“No, Els. I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
I cringe.
“Can you stop saying that?” I request. “It’s making my head hurt.”
“Why?” she asks, bouncing in her seat. “It’s exciting.”
My eyes roll as I press a thumb to my forehead.
“You sound like Kitty,” I say.
“Yeah, because Kitty’s right, and I’m always right.”
She nudges me, and I can’t help the smile on my face.
Elsie doesn’t mean that hyperbolically. She really does believe that she’s always right. It would be annoying if it weren’t for the fact she’s rarely wrong.
“It’s complicated,” I tell her, leaning back on the couch and rubbing ay my temples.
“What could be complicated about falling in love with the boy you’ve been flirting with for four years straight?”
I pass her a sideways glance, and she shrugs.
“I’m just saying,” she adds. “You guys are so magnetic, it seems like fate if you ask me.”
Magnetic? Fate?
If only she knew how impossible that was.
How did I manage to fall for the one man on earth who will never love me back? What kind of sick self-sabotage is that?
“He doesn’t love me, Els.”
“Please,” she mutters, eyes rolling as she chuckles at me. “With the way he looks at you? I don’t believe that for a second. I wish somebody would look at me like that.”
“What do you mean? The way he looks at me?”
“You know…like he might suffocate if he stops.”
I laugh a little at that.
Thanks to that dampener of his, I think it’s quite the opposite.
“He just likes to stare like everyone else,” I sigh, unsure I even believe what I’m saying.
Apparently, Elsie doesn’t either, because her carefully-shaped brow arches, reminding me of her mother’s lethal stare.
“Oh,” she says, tilting her head. “And I suppose the fact that you’re the only girl I’ve ever seen him kiss is just a coincidence? Or that you’re the only person allowed to touch his hair? Or that you’ve been off limits at Crescent House since first-year?”
“Off limits?” I ask, frowning.
“Elliot forbade the Crescent pack from touching you first-year. That’s why none of them have ever tried anything with you. I thought you knew that.”
No, I didn’t know that. But it doesn’t change anything. Neither do his passing kisses.
“It’s complicated, Els. But I’m alright. I just wish I’d been more careful.”
She shakes her head, smirking at me.
“More careful?” she echoes. “Did you think you would go your whole life without falling in love?”
Elsie’s looking at me as if the notion is the most foolish thing she’s ever heard of. And yet, I am afraid to admit that the answer is yes. After Mom and Dad, I figured it wasn’t worth the risk.
She takes my silence as confirmation as she stands, making her way toward her room, still shaking her head.
“Well,” she says. “If love is what you’re so afraid of, then it’s too late.”
I twist in my seat, trying to look at her over the back of the sofa. She’s halfway through her bedroom door when she stops, turning to face me fully.
“You can’t escape it, Iris. You know why? Because I love you,” she says, smiling sweetly. “And Kitty loves you. And Damien loves you. And Elliot loves you.”
I don’t correct her this time. Hearing the words is nice, even if they are false. But her certainty does spark a different thought in my mind.
“But what if I never loved you back?” I ask. “What if I couldn’t feel it? No matter how hard I tried?”
Elsie blinks, frowning at my cryptic question, but I don’t elaborate. I wish I could, but Elliot’s curse is not my secret to tell. So I simply wait as she thinks for a moment, then shrugs.
“I’d love you anyway,” she says. “Doesn’t matter if you can feel it or not. As long as you know it’s there.”
She turns, prepared to disappear into her room, but stops short.
“But I’d still try,” she adds.
“Try what?”
“To make you feel it. Life without love sounds too lonely. I could never leave you like that.”
“Even though it’s impossible?” I ask.
Elsie nods, opal eyes glimmering in the afternoon sunlight, little flecks of magic fading in and out as she stares at me, smile firmly fixed in place.
“I’m Elsie Rosewater,” she says simply. “Impossible is my specialty. And besides, wouldn’t you do anything? For the people you love? Isn’t that how it works?”
Her tone tells me she isn’t just speaking of theory, and I nod.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
She disappears through the doorway, and I sit listening to the muffled shuffling and bumping as she tears her room apart for another outfit. When she reappears, she’s wearing her usual sundress, this one in a bright red shade that warms her deep skin.
“I have to go,” she says.
“Okay. But if you don’t tell me what’s going on soon, I’m going to start following you. I hope you know that.”
She laughs, eyes pinching at the corners as she hides her mouth behind her hand.
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say, shooing her.
“See? That wasn’t so hard.”
She gathers her things before moving to the center of the living room, preparing to wink out of sight to god knows where. But she pauses one last time.
“You should check the admissions rolls,” she says. “They keep a directory of all registered students. Bloodline, power scaling, everything. They have a file on everyone. You’re probably looking for a half-blood or less. If there’s a demon enrolled at Highcrest, they’ll be listed on the rolls.”
I nod.
“Be safe,” she says.
“You too.”
With a single snap of her fingers, she’s gone, and I’m back to feeling like the earth should just swallow me whole. It’d be less painful, surely.
In hopes of washing away a bit of my self-pity, I shower.
For much longer than I intend. But once the steam starts to invade my lungs and I hear my brother’s voice whispering for me to get my ass up, I shut off the water.
It takes me a while longer to find the energy to get dressed, but as Isaac likes to say, it’s hard to be depressed when you know you look good.
So I put on old faithful. A well-loved mini skirt that hits my mid-thigh just right, and a tight top, before picking up my phone.
“Hello!”
Kitty’s sweet voice crackles in my ear as she answers the phone with more excitement than the tiny speaker can handle.
“Hey,” I say, unable to match her enthusiasm but still trying my best not to sound absolutely defeated. “Does the Crescent council have access to the admissions rolls?”
She pauses, and the line is silent for a few seconds before she returns.
“Dame says no. Why, what’re you looking for?”
“Demons,” I say, before explaining Elsie’s suggestion.
“That’s a lot of files,” she says, her usual optimism starting to wither.
“I know, but I don’t know what other choice I have.”
“Hm,” she hums. “Hang on.”
I pace as I wait, picking things up and setting them down arbitrarily as I look for something to occupy my mind. I’ve moved a few books and countless pens before Kitty’s voice comes back, a little brighter than before.
“I know a guy,” she chirps, the smile in her voice unmistakable. “He can’t pull them for you, but he says he can look at them if you can narrow it down.”
Narrow it down? How am I supposed to do that?
I’m pacing again, picking up a stray shoe here and there.
“The wards at Crescent House keep an energy log, right? That’s how the inquisition knows who was there?”
“Yep,” Kitty answers.
“Can you—”
“Cross-reference with the guest list from Fright Night?” she asks, following my logic before I can get the words out. “Sure!”
I turn, excited by the prospect of a real lead, and ram my hip into the desk, knocking the giant tome of a book Treehorn gave me onto the floor. It catches my heel as it lands, and I curse.
“Ah, shit!”
“What’s wrong?” Kitty squeaks, a little panicked. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “I’m fine. It’s just this stupid book.”
I pick it up, hefting it back onto the desk and turning it over right side up, fingering the raised lettering. The old, worn leather feels warm under my palm, and Elsie’s words echo in my mind.
Wouldn’t you do anything?
“Actually, Kitty…Can you meet me at the library? I think I need your help with something.”