It feels like the perfect chance to talk to him, so I ignore the open suitcase on his bed and head to the window, wondering the whole time how I’m going to get outside. It’s not exactly an easy thing to maneuver…at least, not if you’re not a vampire.
But there’s one thing I forgot. Jaxon may be acting off lately, but he’s still Jaxon. And when I reach the window, he’s right there to help me through. Just like always. “Thanks,” I tell him once my feet are firmly planted on the stone floor of the parapet. He shakes his head in a don’t-worry-about-it gesture and moves back toward the crenellation, where he just stands and stares out at the horizon. For the first time in a long time, I feel nervous with him. But it’s not the fun, Pop Rocks kind of jitters that filled me up when we first met. No, this is a whole different kind of nervousness, and I don’t like how uncomfortable it makes me. Any more than I like what it says about my relationship with Jaxon and where it’s at right now. I follow his sight line and realize he’s staring at the pond with the gazebo. It breaks my heart just a little to realize how far we’ve come…and how much we’ve lost. “Do you remember that day?” I whisper. “When you took me out there and we built the snowman.” He doesn’t so much as glance at me. “Yes.” “I’ve always wondered where you got that vampire hat.” I lean against the merlon right next to where he’s standing. “The Bloodletter knitted it for me.” “Really?” The idea of her doing that for Jaxon tickles me, even after everything else she’s done. All the messes she’s made. Again, I think about telling him everything, but I’m afraid it will only make things worse for him and frankly, I don’t think he can handle much more at the moment. So instead of shattering the very last of his illusions, I focus on the positive as much as I can. “I think that’s amazing. I love that hat.” He shrugs. “It’s gone now.” “No it isn’t!” I look at him in surprise. “Is that what you thought? Someone just took it?” “That’s not what happened?” “No! Oh my God, I forgot! It’s in my closet. I went out and got it the next day because I didn’t want anything to happen to it for you. I stored it in my closet to give to you later because I was late to art class. But then, you know…I turned to stone for a while. I’m so sorry; I forgot all about it. I’m sure it’s still in there.” He looks at me for the first time, and I can see in his eyes the debate raging inside him. I have no idea what side wins, but I do know that there is just a tiny bit more warmth in his voice when he says, “Thank you.” “Of course.” I pause for a second, swallow down my fear. Then ask, “Do you ever wish we could go back to that day? When everything was simple? Perfect?” “Hudson’s ex had just nearly killed you in a diabolical plot to resurrect him,” he answers. “How perfect could it be?” “I wasn’t talking about Lia,” I tell him. “I know exactly what you were talking about.” He swallows, then shakes his head. “We were children, Grace. We had no idea what was coming.” “That was barely six months ago!” I say with a laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly call us children.” “Yeah, well, a lot can happen in six months,” he says. And in that one thing, he’s absolutely right. Look at us. There’s so much more I want to say, but maybe Jaxon’s approach is right. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and let it go. I don’t know. Which is why I do the only thing I can think of. I glance back at the suitcase on his bed and ask, “Why are you always packing when I come up here? Or did Flint already ask you?” “Ask me what?” “He’s going to the Dragon Court this weekend and wants us to go with him. There’s a festival for his biggest holiday—” “Wyvernhoard, yeah. Aiden and Nuri host it every year.” For the first time in days, his lips curve in a tiny smile. “It’s a lot of fun.” “You’ve been?” “A long time ago. As part of the Vampire Court contingent, back when relations among the Courts weren’t nearly as bad as they are now.” “Well, you should come again, then,” I urge. “I bet it’s more fun when the dragon prince himself is the one showing you around.” For a second, he looks tempted. But then he shakes his head and answers, “I can’t. I’ve been summoned back to London.” “Again?” I ask. “You were just there.” “Yeah, well, I left rather abruptly.” He shrugs. “Delilah wasn’t impressed.” Annoyance at his mom flashes through me. “I didn’t realize you cared how she felt.” “I don’t. But if I want her to use her influence on Cyrus to drop the charges against Hudson, it needs to at least look like I’m falling in line.” “Do you think she’ll do that?” To be honest, I’m shocked at the very idea. Delilah doesn’t exactly seem like the maternal sort. “I don’t know.” For the first time, he drops his guard and looks…exhausted. And I don’t think he even realizes that he’s rubbing his scar—or that he’s reverted to keeping it covered. “Hudson was always her favorite, so…maybe? It’s the best chance we’ve got.” I hate hearing that, because what I know of Delilah doesn’t make me very confident that she’ll do anything to help her older son, especially if it means inconveniencing herself. “Be careful,” I tell him, because I don’t know what else to say. “Says the girl who goes out of her way to get into trouble,” he answers with a shake of his head. “I don’t go out of my way. It just happens.” “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” He moves to the window. “I need to go.” “Now?” I ask, though I don’t know why I’m so shocked. “I do need to be back for graduation in a few days, so yeah. Now.” He climbs back inside his room, then holds out a hand so that he can pull me in behind him. As I watch him gather up his phone and keys, a bad feeling sweeps over me. I’m not normally one to believe in that stuff, but this time…I just can’t ignore the gnawing in the pit of my stomach. Or the fact that we haven’t discussed what’s going on with him. I need to tell him that he has friends, people who still care about him. “Don’t go,” I whisper as I grab on to his hand. “Please. I need to tell you—” “Stop, Grace.” He pulls his hand from mine, then picks up his bag and slings the strap over his shoulder. “It’s time for me to go.” Then he climbs back onto the parapet and gives me a little nod right before he jumps over the edge. I think about climbing back out onto the parapet just to watch him go. But what’s the point? By the time I get out there, he’ll already be gone. It’s a familiar Vega modus operandi. So instead of chasing after Jaxon, I slowly walk back down the stairs. As I do, I think a lot about that snowman…and everything else that’s melted away in the spring thaw. Maybe all these years, it’s not the coming of winter we’ve had to fear, but the spring that thrives in its desolate destruction. 70