Page 91 of The Devil's Waltz

“Hi,” I say, the surprise at seeing her clear in my voice as I sit up, the blankets pooling in my lap.

“Morning, honey,” she says, closing the door and approaching the bed. “How was your trip?”

“Good.” I watch her warily. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

“I wanted to check in on you before the service today. I know it’s going to be hard for you after everything that’s happened.”

My brows knit. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You could have been killed,” she says anyway, sitting on the side of the bed. “Your friends—Phoebe and Grayson died. And I am so, so sorry for your loss.”

I press my lips together and wait for it. For the guilt trip about it being my fault for not having been prepared.If you had kept up with your training, you might have been able to save your friends’ lives.

It doesn’t come, and that alone makes my eyes burn with tears.

I open my mouth, finding that I’m seconds away from exploding. “Mom.” My voice cracks, and her face fills with concern as she reaches for me, wrapping her hand around my knee.

“What is it?”

Swallowing hard, I say, “I think…I’ve fallen for the prince of hell.”

Her face pales. “Camille—”

“His father was human,” I rush to remind her, as if that’ll make it better. Easier to swallow.

She frowns. “I know you said that, which I can assume means it’s something he told you, but have you considered the possibility he lied about that, too? We haven’t been able to find any information to confirm the validity of his claim to be part human.”

Mirroring her expression, I say, “Of course you haven’t. Lucia wanted to hide his identity from the hunters, but also the part of him she sees as a weakness.” A tool she wouldn’t hesitate to use to her advantage, but a failing, nonetheless.

She seems to consider that for a moment. The silence that stretches between us sets me on edge as doubt clouds her expression.

I shake my head, tension coiling tighter in my gut. “There’s humanity in him,” I insist. “I’ve seen it, Mom. And I have to believe it, because thealternative isn’t something I can—” My voice cracks, and I swallow the lump in my throat. “I have to believe it,” I repeat quietly.

My mom presses her other hand to her forehead. “I don’t know what to say, Camille.” She shakes her head, the fear in her expression something I haven’t seen in a very long time. “But if he truly cares about you, why were your friends killed?”

My stomach plummets. “He didn’t know about that until after it happened,” I say in a low voice. “It was Lucia. She was punishing me for not conceding to her. And I…” I look away. “I couldn’t help them.” My words are low, heavy with the guilt of their deaths.

The hard facade I’ve grown to associate with my mother’s position of power in the hunter world fades into something…softer.

“Oh, sweetheart.” She wraps her arms around me tightly, and I let myself fall apart in her embrace.

When I calm down enough to pull back and wipe my cheeks, exhaustion still clings to my muscles, but the unbearable weight on my chest has lessened ever so slightly. I needed that.

“Let me help,” she says. “You shouldn’t have to face this alone. We’ve known the queen was planning to act against us for some time, but to find out she was planning to use my own daughter to do it…” Her jaw clenches. “I won’t let her hurt you, Camille.”

I exhale a heavy sigh. “Okay,” is all I’m able to say. The thought of telling her about Xander’s plan to send Lucia back to hell pops into my head, but I keep my mouth shut. Until I know more, I’m not ready to involve my family.

Mom squeezes my knee gently before standing from the bed. “I’m heading into HQ for the day, but let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks, Mom.”

After she leaves, I force myself out of bed and into the shower so I can get ready for the service.

Harper and I ride over to the funeral home together, both dressed in simple black dresses with stockings and heels. Harper opted to curl her hair, while I blew mine dry. We did our makeup in silence, and I bit my tongue to keep from spilling about what happened with Xander while I was in New York. I’m going to tell her everything, but not until we get through this.

Today needs to be about Phoebe and Grayson.

Soft piano music fills the reception hall of the funeral home when Harper and I step inside. Adrianna greets us with a watery smile and a hug, and I squeeze tighter when I catch a hint of alcohol coming from her.

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