Page 190 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“Amaranthine Ginger Larkspur,” I spat with all the attitude I could muster.
Sedge’s curse was a quiver on the wind.
Fire surged into my face. “My mother was Ginger Larkspur, fae queen. My little sister is Princess Viola. My little brother is Prince Acer. My aunt and uncle are Cornelian and Eulalia Larkspur. The guy you took me from is Briar Hawthorne, royal guard and Paragon in the Old Order. And my father—” My voice hitched. “My father was Laurustinus Larkspur, fae king.”
Pete’s nausea must’ve rebounded. He muttered a vehement curse and bent to clutch his knees.
“But I never knew him as that until after he died,” my tongue persisted, and I hated Pete for making me do thisthisway. On his terms. This wasmystory to tell. Not his to compel. “I knew him only as Rus—a kindhearted middle-class banker who loved his children more than he loved himself. Apparently, to keep us all safe from the evil fuck who killed my mother—triedto kill him—he left his birthright to live in the suburbs of a strange world. He, my uncle, aunt, and Briar took us to Earth—to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Daddy was sick as hell for the rest of his life because of that damn blood curse, but he was still a world-class father, who raised us all as humans amongst a community of Danannspretendingto be human. I lived like a semi-normal American girl, never thinking I was anything different.
“Until I unknowingly opened a door to a portal and let in a shit load of bogeybats, who eventually found my father and killed him like a rat in a gutter. I tried to save him, but he died in my arms. His last words were my name!”
My exposed secrets echoed in the silence, jeering me.
I sneered at Pete through my tears. “Happynow? Everything else I’ve ever told you was the truth, youasshole!”
Pete’s eyes closed for a nano-second. When his lashes lifted, a maelstrom of ghosts roiled in that blackstrap gaze. His pulse raced in his neck. “That evil fuck you mentioned—you ken who he was?”
“Huh?” We all knew who he was.
Overstrung, Sedge said, “Pete, don’t turn down this road again.”
Sedge’s plea fell on deaf ears as Pete leaned toward me, something awful in his gaze. Shame, I realized with a jolt.
“Shorty,” he rumbled. “That evil fuck was me.”
Part Three
“But never doubt I love.”
—Hamlet
William Shakespeare
Thirty-One
“Whatthehelldoesthat mean?” Even in my rage at Pete, my whole being shook, refusing his confession. It couldn’t be true. It justcouldn’t!
“I’m the harbinger Gentian sent to kill your father,” Pete growled. “I’m the one who killed your mother!”
“No!No, you’re not!”
“I am.” He just wouldn’t stop saying it! “I—”
“Gentian killed her, Pete,” Sedge stated—the voice of reason. “Not. You.”
Pete’s mouth thinned. “It was my fault, wasn’t it?”
Grim-faced, Sedge turned from his friend.
“I don’t understand,” I said, frustrated. “If you didn’t kill her, how was it your fault?”
Pete’s eyes shuttered. “Th-that’s a tale for another time.”
What the— Is he dismissing me?
He sure was. “Wemustget her out of here,” Pete asserted, facing Sedge. “The Leprechauns and every other harbinger known to this world are heading home for her scent. I saw Dando in town. He’s who told me—”
“Wait just a goddamn second!” I snapped. “You can’t just tell me you think you’re to blame for my mother’s death, then not explain what happened!”
