The Devouring Gray(72)

He pressed the face of his red medallion against the arm of the chair. “I know I can help this town. And you know I can, too. You saw it in the Deck of Omens.”

He’d expected sympathy at this reminder, some surge of emotion. But May’s face barely changed. He had never seen May like this before, clear as glass and hard as steel.

“No, you can’t,” she said, each word clipped and precise. “And it’s time you stopped pretending otherwise. Because when you collect damaged people to feel better about yourself, all of you end up getting hurt.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Her fingers strangled the arms of the chair as she bent toward him. “You loved fixing Harper’s messes before Mom got to her, because you were her hero. You get off on Isaac treating you like you pull the sun up every morning. And you’re not upset about Violet because you care what Mom did to her—you just want a reason to be here, and Mom took it away from you.”

There was something wrong with the walls in the study. They were bending inward, getting smaller. There was a sharp pain in Justin’s chest, as if someone had placed a hand inside his rib cage and pushed the bones against his skin.

Barks rang through the house, signaling his mother’s arrival. Justin sat, shell-shocked and silent, all his failures laid out in front of him like the deck of cards he’d never be able to read.

Augusta entered her study with the chill and vigor of a gale-force wind. May shrank back in her seat, but Justin forced himself not to react as she swept behind her desk. He knew deference was exactly what Augusta wanted.

“I never believed the stereotypes about children who felt the need to deceive their parents.” Augusta’s gloved hands steepled together beneath her chin. “Rebellious teenagers belong in towns where the biggest danger is a drunk driver. But you were raised to understand the stakes we deal with every day. Which means you know how badly you owe me an apology.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” said May immediately, inclining her head. Her hair slid in front of her face, baring the blond, wispy tufts at the nape of her neck. “I should’ve told you about Violet immediately.”

“Stop,” said Augusta sharply. May winced. “I said apologize, not lie at my feet and beg like my dogs. No one will ever respect you if you don’t take responsibility for your actions.”

“I’m sorry!” May said frantically. “I’ll do that, too. It was my fault, I know it now, just don’t—” She broke off.

Augusta looked at her askance. “Don’t what?”

May twisted her hands together in her lap. “Don’t take Isaac’s memories away.”

Justin’s insides spiked with surprise. This didn’t excuse any of the things May had said to him, which were still rattling about in the ruins of his chest. But he realized now that she was terrified. Isaac was one of the few people who didn’t just tolerate May, but liked her.

“I’m not going to punish Isaac Sullivan,” said Augusta gently. “At least, not for this.”

May nearly flopped over the desk with relief. “Thank you.”

Justin and May were immune to their mother’s powers. They were blood, and so her touch didn’t work on them the way it did on the rest of the town. Only they knew how she kept herself in the sheriff’s office. Only they knew how many people were walking around with gaps inside their heads.

“Enough,” said Augusta, looking slightly pained. “Now, Justin? What do you have to say for yourself?”

The easy thing to do would be to copy May. To beg. But the words wouldn’t come.

This wasn’t just about Violet anymore.

His mother had never apologized for Harper. For threatening Isaac. For pushing Justin away after he’d failed his ritual. He didn’t see why he should be expected to show her the respect she’d never given him.

“I’m not sorry.”

Augusta’s marbled features twisted into an ugly smile. “I thought you might say that. May, you can leave. It’s time your brother and I had a talk.”

May scurried out of the room, a blond mouse. There was a miniature founders’ symbol carved into the arm of Justin’s chair. He scratched at it with his fingernail as Augusta began to speak.

“So, you don’t think you owe me an apology,” she said.

Justin shook his head.

“Do you need me to list what you did wrong?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh, Justin,” said Augusta. “You put this town in incredible danger for a girl you’ve known less than a month. And you lied to me. I know you love to act like some sort of local hero, but surely even you can’t think this was justified.”

“I’d do it again,” Justin said softly. “To keep her safe from you.”

Augusta groaned, pressed two gloved fingers to her temple.

“I don’t use my ability lightly, you know this. It’s a last resort. But the town is safer if she doesn’t have access to her powers. Not when they are so clearly a direct pipeline to the Beast.”

Justin wondered, deep inside, if the words she was saying were true. Maybe Harper, Isaac, and Violet really were too dangerous to be let loose on the general public. Maybe it would be better to make them live their lives without powers.