Page 144 of Beyond the Cottage

She snorted. “You aren’t funding shit. I’m going to help him find a different investor.”

Nat’s little fingers squeezed the draft, putting a crease in it.

Gretta froze. She sank back in her seat, chewing her lip.

“Go ahead and try,” he said darkly. “If he walks without signing, I’ll have him blacklisted from here to the Pewter Sea.”

“…You wouldn’t.” He absolutely would.

“Try me and find out.”

“He’ll neveragreeto this, Nat! Neither will I.”

He placed the bank draft on the desk and pushed it toward her. “Present my offer and find out.”

Gretta picked up the draft.

And nearly fell off the sofa.

She’d never seen so many zeros in a row before. It was a ridiculous number, one that had to surpass seed money for anything ever invented. What the hell was Nat’s game?

“What is this?” she asked.

“Call it a yardstick. Or tell him it’s earnest money, I don’t care. Give that to the dust thief, and see how well your friendship measures up.”

Gretta suddenly had trouble catching air. Nat was offering afortune. A life-changing one. Blacklisting aside, it was more money than Ansel could ever hope to secure anywhere else. It would mean his financial security for life, and it would all but guarantee the repellent’s success.

Still, she fantasized about tearing up the draft and throwing it in Nat’s face. Ansel would want to do the same. She knew he cared about her, and he wouldn’t appreciate the senator’s high-handed bullshit.

But what kind of friend would let him refuse?

“Is this real, Nat? If he takes the deal, you’ll honor it?”

“I’ll have the contracts drawn up this afternoon.”

Gretta’s thoughts and emotions collided, threatening to explode. She pressed her lips together and blanked her expression. No way in hell was she letting Nat see her crumble.

“I’ll present your offer.” She folded the draft and slipped it in her reticule. “But you’re an asshole, Senator.”

She stormed out and slammed the door. On the other side, she fell into a chair and forced back tears, reality hitting her like an anvil falling.

Nat’s offer meant the repellent’s success. In exchange, it meant the end of whatever she and Ansel were becoming. She still didn’t know what that was, but losing it felt like losing half her heart.

She dropped her face in her hands, swallowing the kind of sob she hadn’t contended with in years. She was about to lose her closest friend, the only person who understood her. Curling up in his arms made the world go away, and she’d never feel that again.

She pictured Ansel the boy, shielding her from the Eater. She saw the tears he’d done his best to hide.

Esme’s tears, too. And the tears of children whose names she’d never learned. The emaciated vampire in the witch’s attic, the boys strapped to a bed, the meat cleaver, the butcher block, the jarful of eyeballs…

Gretta bolted upright, sucking in air.

How could shenotchoose the repellent? Was she actually selfish enough to put her feelings for Ansel above stopping witches? Given the chance, she’d have doneanythingto prevent Ansel’s years in the cottage.

Even if it meant they’d never have met.

Fighting witchcraft is the most important thing.

Counting backward, Gretta swatted moisture off her cheeks. If Ansel saw her cry, saw any emotion at all, it might sway him the wrong way. He had to take the offer. She needed toconvincehim. She’d have plenty of time to cry later.

---