Page 96 of The Blood Queen

“Can I do anything for you?” Laura was also a healer, so her offer was natural.

“Oh… thank you, but no. It’s just some housekeeping concerns, preparing for casualties.” Lila bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“We won’t mention that part.”

“Thank you.”

I studied her awkward gait as she walked away, heading for the elevator and not the stairs. “She’s very beautiful.”

Laura smoothed her palms across the table. “She’s a healer, extremely talented. Almost to Gray’s level.”

A cloud hung over the words. There was more to the story, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask. “I haven’t seen her before. She wasn’t in the medical wing where I stayed.”

“No.”

“How long have you known her?”

Laura hesitated, her forefinger floating over the book still open on the table. Pain thudded behind my eyes, a sure sign of a headache coming on. “Laura?”

She glanced at the elevator. The progress light was off. Lila had obviously reached the main floor and was on her way out of the building. “I’m sorry you had to see her.”

I frowned. “Why would seeing her make you sorry?”

“She knows Gray.” They were healers, in the same profession, so it was logical. Laura’s discomfort, though, was not logical. She looked away. “They worked together during the pack war.”

“They were close?”

“Yes.”

Intuition rippled down my spine. I knew Grayson had a private life before I came, so I shouldn’t be shocked to learn they knew each other… more than professionally. But as I listened to Laura’s carefully indrawn breath, my pulse throbbed. “I suppose there’s no delicate way to say they were lovers.”

“It was a long time ago, Noa.”

“Four years ago.” I’d had a lover then, too, a shy, awkward boy who was safe. Who made no demands. Ancient history, wasn’t it? And a bond was little more than a whim of magic.

My gaze drifted to the elevators while the headache sharpened behind my eyes. I’d always used the stairs. Difficult for Lila to do. With that crutch, her disability was permanent, but not an impediment to her work. Her determination.

Perhaps it was my faille senses working overtime. That damn sensitivity. But their breakup hadn’t been easy. I’d picked up on the lingering pain sparking in Lila’s eyes and weakening one corner of her smile. Was she the reason Anson warded Westvale against Grayson? Not to keep him from challenging as an Alpha, or even to protect me? Had he wanted Grayson nowhere near his sister?

“Can you tell me what happened… her injuries?” A small portion of my chest had gone cold. I didn’t care if I was insensitive when I added, “I can research for myself. But that would call attention to my interest and people—wolves love to talk.”

“It was an accident,” Laura said after a contemplative silence. If I wanted the entire version, I’d have to ask those involved. Grayson and Lila. It was their private business, wasn’t it? Ancient history that a few friends didn’t want me to learn.

The quiet in the archive turned oppressive. I wanted the cold air on my face, to breathe in natural scents, not those manufactured to soothe me. I wanted to meet a friend for a drink, share a joke and not worry about the secrets hidden beneath the laughter. To have dinner at an out-of-the-way dive that had fabulous food, the kind of place known only to the locals. A place where, if you knew about it, you belonged.

With a murmured excuse, I left the table and pushed through the whooshing archive door. The stairs took forever.

Once outside, I nodded to the security guards, set off at a brisk pace, joining the flashy crowds on the snowy sidewalks. One day, I would actually belong in a crowd like this, not here in Westvale. Maybe not even in Sentinel Falls. Grayson would walk beside me. I’d touch his hand and he would smile. We’d be new again. No past lovers suddenly in the picture, or friends trying to protect me from the truth. No Amal waiting in the wings. No nymphs up to their eyeballs in secrets. There would be wolves, of course. He’d have his, and I’d never know what it was like. We would both deny that it mattered. Unless, of course, the seidr magic got busy screwing things up again.

The Farmer’s Market bristled with activity. I wove between the booths, side-stepped the chaotic masses, walking toward the witch’s booth. It was empty. Cleaned out. Not even the camp chair remained. The sprigs of rosemary. Only a dried-out stem, crushed on the floor.

I gripped my arms, curled in on myself. Lila and Grayson had been lovers. Why not torture myself with the images? Imagine her, touching him the way I did. Imagine him, that sound low in his throat he couldn’t control, as if his world was shattering. I closed my eyes and heard the murmured words as he shared his secrets. As she asked him to touch her, bring her higher.

Did she feel the ecstasy that left me breathless? Did they share stupid, silly moments, like laughing at some television show? Cooking side-by-side? Did he take her to his secret cave? The house of memories? Did she know Fee? Did the King of the Forest do things for her, like beer appearing in a vet clinic refrigerator? Or delivering a pizza oven?

Did he think of her often?

Did I think torturing myself with those thoughts would make it any easier?

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