“Then he’s a jerk,” I said flatly. “And you’re better off without him.”
She sniffed. “You think?”
“Yeah, I think.” I paused. “What about Theo? He was nice, wasn’t he?”
Ava rolled her eyes. “He was so protective, it was like he never let me breathe. But yeah,” she added softly, “he was nice. Sensitive, but nice.”
“Then why don’t you break up with Xander?” I said. “Especially if you’ll be happier without him.”
“But I wouldn’t be.” She looked at me tearfully. “It’s lonely here, Kate, you know that. You’re so busy all the time, and Ella doesn’t like me, and I don’t like Calliope, and—if I don’t have Xander, who else do I have?”
I tried to think of the right words to say, but nothing came. Ava was as alone here as I was, and while we had each other, sort of, she’d suffered just as much of a loss as I had when she’d died. She’d lost her parents, and even though she was hiding it well, it was moments like these that reminded me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, hugging her. “Even if I’m busy sometimes, I’m always here for you, and you’ll always have me. I promise. Just be careful, okay?”
She didn’t react for several seconds, but when she did, she buried her face in the crook of my neck and wrapped her arms around me. Her shoulders shook and her breath came in gasps as she started to cry properly, and I rubbed her back as soothingly as I could, wishing I were better with this sort of thing. No one I’d known back in New York had ever broken down like this in front of me. But it seemed to help, so I stayed still, waiting for her to cry herself out.
Finally she loosened her grip and pulled back enough to look at me. When I saw the pout on her face, I knew that the worst had passed. “How can we be friends when you won’t even let me teach you how to swim?” she said, delicately wiping her eyes.
“That doesn’t work on me, Ava,” I warned. “I don’t care how much practice you’ve had on your boyfriends.”
Her shoulders slumped again, and I sighed.
“I don’t want to learn how to swim—not because I don’t like you or want to spend time with you, but because I’m afraid of the water. It isn’t some easy thing for me to jump on in and learn, okay?”
Her eyes widened. “You’re afraid of the water? Honest to God afraid?”
She was determined to make this as embarrassing as possible. “Terrified,” I said. “When I was four or five, I thought it’d be fun to swim in the lake at Central Park, and I jumped in and sank like a rock. My mother had to jump in and save me. Ever since, I can’t bring myself to try.”
Speaking about my mother so casually made my throat tighten, but luckily Ava didn’t seem to notice. Instead she eyed me calculatingly, and I knew I was in trouble.
“Tell you what,” she said, straightening up. “When the weather gets warmer, I’ll teach you how to swim, and you can…I don’t know. I’ll owe you a huge favor, how about that?”
“There isn’t anything you could possibly offer me that would make me willing to get in the water.” I stood again and picked up the ornaments. There were only a few left, and nestled underneath was a small, heart-shaped box wrapped in delicate pink tissue paper. On a tag in flowery script was my name. Frowning, I picked it up. “Is this from you?”
Ava eyed it. “No. Where’d you find it?”
“With the ornaments.” I untied the ribbon, but Ava snatched it out of my hand. “Hey—”
“Don’t touch it,” she said, setting it on the bed as if it were a bomb about to go off. “You don’t know where it came from.”
Irritated, I turned back to the ornaments. “It’s a Christmas present, Ava. Ever heard of them?” James’s warning rang in my head, but all I’d tried to do was unwrap it. I wasn’t stupid enough to eat something or put it on without knowing where it came from. Besides, maybe there was a signed card inside. “Yours is under the bed, if you want it.”
She ducked underneath the bed and pulled out a jewelry box wrapped in blue with her name on it. I watched her open it and reveal the gold hoop earrings inside, but while she made an effort to look excited, her eyes kept darting over toward my unexpected gift.
“Thanks,” she said, putting them on. “They’re beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.” I walked toward the bed. “Really, Ava, it’s just a present. I’m sure it isn’t going to try to bite me or—”
“Stop.”
Henry’s voice cut through the room, and my hand froze inches away from the pink wrapping paper. He stood framed in the doorway, half a dozen guards behind him, each with their hands on their weapons. Power radiated from him in waves, and the temperature dropped so low I thought I could see my breath. For the first time I understood why everyone seemed to keep a respectful distance from him, especially when he was angry.
I swallowed my unease. “It’s a present—”
“Kate,” said Henry coldly. “Step away.”
I did as he said, but I wasn’t happy about it. Crossing my arms over my chest, I watched as he picked up the present. A shimmering bubble formed, enclosing it completely, and my mouth dropped open.
“How did you—”
“I need to open it,” he said. “This is the safest way.”
Without anything to guide it, the lid rose from the box. Nestled inside was a collection of chocolates, each a different color and shape. One with a purple flower rose above the others, and it broke in half.
Instead of nougat or strawberry filling, there was green liquid inside, and as it dripped onto the pink tissue, it made a hissing noise I could hear from several feet away.
“Cancel dinner,” said Henry to the guards. “Make sure everyone is in their room. I want a complete search of the manor.”
It took me a moment to regain the ability to speak, and when I did, my voice came out as a croak. “You can’t cancel Christmas dinner.”
“I can, and I will,” he said. “And you will stay in your room tonight, do you understand?”
Did I understand? Was he crazy? “I’ll stay in my room under two conditions,” I said sharply. “One, after you’re done searching the manor, you let everyone have Christmas dinner. There should be plenty of time for both.”