The Devouring Gray(31)

Justin nodded in agreement as the lights of the sheriff’s station cut through the darkness, drawing them both toward the squat, ugly building at the edge of town like moths to a flame.

He was expecting the normal setup for patrol once they got inside—Augusta and a few deputies lined up, dividing routes, giving orders. But instead, their mother was waiting for them in the foyer, alone, her choppy blond hair glowing almost neon where it was silhouetted by the fluorescent lights.

Justin’s first thought was that something terrible had happened, again.

“Is everything all right?” said May sharply, who had clearly had the same thought.

“Everything’s fine,” Augusta said quickly. “There’s just something I need to discuss with your brother. May, you can go ahead to the conference room, where the deputies are planning the routes.”

May vanished down the hallway, shooting Justin a confused look.

Justin had grown enough in the past few years that they were about the same height, but Augusta still felt taller than him as she led him down the corridor and into her poorly lit office. The mastiffs were curled up on the floor in a pile, napping. Brutus’s tail twitched as Justin sat down and patted his head.

“What’s this about?” he asked. Augusta situated herself behind the desk as Justin racked his brain for what he could’ve done wrong. All he could think of was Violet—but if that were the case, she would’ve kept May around, too.

“I felt it was best we discussed this in person.” Augusta fixed him with a look that made Justin feel like he’d been pinned to his seat. “I don’t think you should go on patrol tonight.”

Justin frowned. “Why? Does Mitzi or Seth want to trade?”

“No,” Augusta said. “But I’m worried about your capabilities. Especially now that we’re close to the equinox. It’s for your own good, really—I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

Justin had spent enough time on various athletic teams to know what she was really saying. “You’re benching me?”

“I’m protecting you.”

The words hit him like a dull thud in the chest.

“And what about the people who might die because I’m not patrolling?” he said. “Who’s going to protect them?”

“I won’t let you risk your life like that,” Augusta said, almost gently. “Everything is under control. I promise.”

“Mitzi, Seth, Isaac, and May can’t protect the town on their own. Maurice Carlisle doesn’t patrol and—” Justin cut himself off before he could mention Violet.

Augusta narrowed her eyes. “And who? Please don’t tell me you’re about to bring up Harper Carlisle.”

Justin swallowed, grateful for the easy lie. “You said her name. Not me.”

Augusta Hawthorne did not appreciate anyone she couldn’t control. Anyone who might be dangerous to Four Paths.

He’d learned that lesson when she’d forced him to betray Harper three years ago.

If he told her about Violet’s blackouts, her powers, how she’d taken him into the Gray with her, Augusta would treat Violet as a threat instead of an ally. And another founder who could potentially keep the town in one piece would never even get the chance to help them.

Justin couldn’t let that happen. Which meant he would need to lie to his mother, and so would May and Isaac.

He thought of the people who’d died that year—Vanessa Burke, who’d disappeared from a party one chilly February night; Carl Falahee, who’d been discovered right behind the high school. Hap Whitley. Deputy Anders.

Their bleach-white eyes. Their bloated, shiny skin. The bones protruding from their abdomens in a rippled, gruesome wave.

He had enough on his conscience already. He refused to add Violet Saunders to the list of people he had failed.

“I know what happened with Harper upset you,” said Augusta, folding her gloved hands across her desk. “But it wasn’t as if you would have been allowed to be with her long-term, anyway—and you’ve certainly had no trouble finding young women to replace her.”

“Mom!” Justin could feel his cheeks flushing. He would rather be back in the Gray than spend another second on this topic of conversation. “Can we please not talk about this?”

“Very well, then,” said Augusta primly. “I’m just saying, this patrol business isn’t nearly as bad as you’re making it seem. It’s only for a few weeks. You can use the time to work on your college applications.”

“Yeah, great,” muttered Justin. “I can write my common app essay about how my mom won’t let me protect my town from an ancient evil.”

His mother’s face contorted into an expression he hadn’t seen in ages. It took him a second to realize she was holding back a laugh. “Well, it would certainly stand out.”

The hardest part about having a mother who could switch between unyielding and wryly self-deprecating at a moment’s notice was that he could never tell whether he had amused or upset her. Sometimes a single offhand sarcastic comment was enough to send Augusta into a cold, vicious rage. But other times, she was the one making the joke.

Justin was tired of always having to brace himself before they talked. Tired of wondering which version of his mother he’d get when they butted heads.