Page 58 of Friend
Because she had a vanilla milkshake.
I could have waited for the waiter to return, he was already eying our table from his spot behind the counter, but I got up and went to the register to order.
When she was sad like this, sometimes she needed a minute alone to recharge. That was how it was before I went to get changed and—when I returned with a chocolate sundae—that was how it was now.
I waited until she’d popped the bright red cherry in her mouth before asking, “What color are we doing for this prom thing?”
Bianca’s eyes widened slightly, and she stared at me. “What?”
I leaned back in my seat, frowning. “You didn’t decide on a color? This was your idea.”
That might be good, though, because it would give her something new to focus on. “Well,” I said and, even though it was probably the last thing I wanted to think about, added, “if you didn’t think about it already, then I guess we should probably decide.”
“I need to talk to you.”
Mr. Geier started as he closed his office door behind him, not expecting me to be waitingforhim tonight. He’d been watching TV while Bianca and I were doing our homework, and he—like Bianca—thought I’d left once I said goodbye and Bianca returned to her room for bed.
And I probably should have left. Bianca said she was fine, and I should respect her wishes.
But this was too important to ignore and too hard of a conversation to have on the phone.
“Oh?” Mr. Geier regained his composure quickly enough. He crossed the room, heading directly to his bar before grabbing a glass and a bottle of scotch. “What happened?” There was no kindly tone to his voice now, and when he sat in his seat and poured his drink, there was a serious gleam in his eyes.
I tried to swallow through my worry and fear, but every time I thought back, her haunted expression filled my thoughts. “She…” How was I supposed to tell him this?
She might not have been biologically hers, but he raised her.
And he was counting on me to help where his own magic could not. “I…”
I’d failed.
“Finn?” he asked leaning forward, and suddenly I couldn’t look at him anymore.
“Something happened at school today.” I hadn’t even realized I’d spoken. In fact, it felt otherworldly, hearing the words lingering through the room. “Bianca was attacked by a wolf. He knows she’s Mu.”
A low humming rang through the room, and the boards briefly vibrated under the bottom of my feet. I expected pain and fury, but when Mr. Grier spoke, there was neither.
“It’s not your fault,” he said. I looked up, meeting his dark gaze, and a shiver of fear shot down my spine. “You’ve been doing everything you can,” he said, still seeking to reassure me before he, very cautiously and maliciously, allowed himself to delve into his anger. “More than you’ve even been asked to do, and I know you. It’s not your fault.”
There was a chill in the air, and goose bumps broke out over my arms.
Sometimes it was easy to forget just how powerful a witch Jonathon Geier was—an Er Bashou proxy, and the only son of the legendary Kathleen Geier. His retirement had left a void in his quintet.
‘Bring in an adult.’
Damen was right.
Just the knowledge that someone else was able to help—that I didn’t have to worry about this on my own—was enough to make the knot in my chest loosen.
“Tell me what happened,” he commanded.
So I told him everything.
I stood in the grand entryway of Bianca’s house, nervous, even though I’d been coming here almost every day over the last eight years.
Mrs. Geier stood beside me, worrying, as she glanced between me and her husband, who remained nearby in the adjoining smoking room.
“I still don’t like this,” she was saying. “I’ve seen what teenagers do these days. They don’t even know how to dance properly—theygrindinstead. It’s an abomination. What if someone touches her? What if she—”
