Chapter Seven

Izzy and I stayed up absurdly late, talking about life, the universe, and everything, and in the morning, I roused myself absurdly early so that Warren could take me home. I felt like a total zombie, but all in all, it had been worth it.

"I owe you one," I told Warren as he dropped me off. He waved this off, but I made a mental note to get him something exceptional for his birthday.

My only real plan for Saturday was to get a few more hours of shut-eye - which I did, very successfully. By the time I woke up, it was mid-afternoon, and a good portion of the pack had arrived to assist with cleanup from the fae battle. I'd just polished off a sandwich and was preparing to pitch in when Mercy said, "Hey, Jesse. Let's you and me have a chat."

"Okay," I said. I was pretty sure I wasn't in trouble, but I still got that feeling of dread I'm pretty sure everyone gets whenever a parental unit expresses interest in having a chat about something.

Mercy waved me to the backyard, and we strolled far enough away from the house so we wouldn't be overheard.

"So," I said, perching on one of my mom's ill-fated decorative boulders. "What's up?"

Somehow, sitting on the rock and talking to Mercy triggered memories of all the times I'd visited Mercy in her trailer, where I used to perch on her kitchen counter to chat. And occasionally grill her for information about what was going on with the pack. Mercy hadn't always had the answers, but she usually knew more than I did, and she'd trusted me to handle way more information than my dad had been willing to give me.

For a long time, I'd thought of Mercy as this cool aunt I'd never had. I would say it was weird now, having Mercy as my stepmom, except I'm pretty sure I knew Mercy and my dad were going to get together way before Mercy did.

On the downside, Mercy could no longer act as a semi-neutral third party when it came to disseminating information about the pack. But on the plus side, Mercy had mellowed my dad out a lot. Having her around also meant that she occasionally convinced my dad it would be better if she had a girl chat with me about something, as opposed to him trying to lay down the law in a way that did not go over well.

I got the feeling this was one of those times.

"So," Mercy said. "First things first, I want you to know we appreciate the way you're handling all this, Jesse. Not that we're surprised. But this situation isn't easy, and you're handling it like a champ."

I shrugged. "Well, where's the fun in easy? We like a life of danger and intrigue, we Hauptmans."

"And this is why we're lucky to have you," Mercy said. "Not that we wouldn't be lucky to have you in any case."

"Well, thanks," I said, getting the sense she was buttering me up for something. "I feel like there's a 'but' coming."

"No buts," Mercy said. "A couple of ands, though."

"Okay," I said. I wondered if my dad had found the nail bat hidden behind my bed.

Mercy seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "With everything going on, I can understand you needing to confide in someone about all this."

I blinked. "Oh," I said. "I mean, yeah, I've been confiding in Izzy. But I haven't told her anything it's not safe for her to know, I promise."

"I know. I trust you. But I'm not talking about Izzy."

Despite my best efforts, I could feel my cheeks flush. "Oh," I said. Maybe Mercy wasn't thinking what I was thinking. I mean, as far as she knew, Tad and I had only gone for a walk in the woods that one day. Right?

Apparently not.

Mercy said, "I'm glad you and Tad have gotten a chance to spend some time together lately. Tad's been...not quite himself since he got back. But the last couple times I've seen him, he's seemed...happier."

"Oh?" I said again, attempting to sound like this insight did not affect me in any way.

"Which is good," Mercy said. "And I would like to reiterate that we trust you. And I trust Tad. Which is why we're having this conversation now instead of the middle of the night."

Aughhh. Busted.

I resisted the urge to bury my face in my hands, even though my face was probably as bright red as Dread Lobster Bessie's shell.

On the plus side, I was now 100% certain that Tad's spell had worked, because if my dad had caught so much as a hint of us...uh, not talking...well. Like Mercy said: we would not be having this conversation casually on Saturday afternoon.

"So I guess you...heard us talking?" I ventured. My voice came out much closer to a squeak than I'd intended.

"Actually," Mercy said, "I woke up when I felt somebody casting a spell. A few minutes later, I heard Zee knocking on your door. Followed by Tad coming out into the hall. Which means that apparently Tad knows how to soundproof your room." Mercy gave me a pointed look.

"Nothing happened," I blurted out. "I mean - um - nothing for you to worry about. Nothing inappropriate. We - um -"

Mercy held up her hand. "You're not in trouble." She sighed. "Considering the circumstances, I can understand why Tad's only chance to see you would have been in the middle of the night. I can also understand how hard it can be to get privacy around here."

"But?" I prompted, and Mercy gave me a wry look.

"But," she conceded, "unless I'm totally mistaken, things between you and Tad are...different now."

I fiddled with my shirt sleeves, staring down at the grass. For once, it felt a little weird, talking about things with Mercy. I knew she thought of Tad as a sort of younger-brother figure. And I was her stepdaughter. Would she think it was inappropriate? Or that I was too young for him? Or...?

Mercy didn't say anything, just waited. I knew there was no point lying to her - she was as good a lie detector as any of the wolves - but I wasn't sure what to say. Now that I was no longer alone in my bedroom with Tad, consumed by hormones, I realized that I agreed with him. If anything was going to happen between us, we needed to do it right. Tad was too close to Mercy, too close to the pack.

I also realized that I wished we'd figured out exactly what was going on between us before my dad or Mercy knew about it, because I was so not ready to have this conversation.

"I'm not sure what's going on, exactly," I said, still staring down at the ground. "I mean, it's not really anything. Not that it's nothing. It's, just, you know, not defined yet. I don't - um -"

"You don't have to tell me," Mercy said gently. "But I'm guessing you can understand why it's probably not the best idea for Tad to be sneaking into your room in the middle of the night."

"Of course," I said. "Yes. Totally get it."

"Your dad will be relieved to hear it."

"I bet," I said.

There was another awkward silence. "Well. That's all I had," said Mercy.

"Okay! Um...I'm gonna go help with the cleanup."

And then possibly hide in my room avoiding my dad for the rest of the year.

I hopped off the rock, aware that I was being completely awkward. But I couldn't turn the awkward off, so I just hurried back into the house, feeling weirdly relieved at the thought of manual labor.

Tad called at midnight.

"Do you ever call at normal hours?" I teased.

"Normal hours are for normal people. I'm exceptional," Tad said.

"I thought you were going to say supernatural."

"That, too," he agreed. "Did I wake you up?"

"No. But you did interrupt an extremely important YouTube marathon." After spending most of the day helping with cleanup, I'd flopped onto my bed and had been unwilling to do anything besides stare at my phone for approximately the last two hours.

"Uh-oh. Should I go?" Tad joked.

"No point. You already interrupted the world record YouTube streak I was going for. I'll just have to start over when we hang up."

"Well, at least you have goals."

"You bet. After this, I'm going for the world record in highest number of video game deaths perpetrated by a giant mutant lobster."

Tad laughed. "I'm pretty sure you've already got that one."

"And don't you forget it," I said. It was absurd how much I enjoyed talking nonsense with him. "So. How are you?"

"Oh, you know." Tad sighed. "Tired, mostly. We haven't slept much the last couple days."

"No rest for the villain-hunters?"

"Something like that," Tad said. "How about you?"

"That is a great question," I said. "One sec."

I hopped off the bed and turned on the three fans and the noisemaker I kept strategically positioned around my room. They were not an absolute soundproof guarantee, but Mercy had helped me set them up one day, assuring me that if I kept my voice low, I'd be able to have privacy during personal phone calls.

"Is it raining there?" Tad said.

"Nope. That's my noisemaker. The closest I can get to non-magical soundproofing."

"Soundproofing? Are you afraid I'll say something inappropriate? Or...that you'll say something inappropriate?"

"No."

"Dang. I was really holding out for that second one."

I rolled my eyes, but I laughed, too. "Actually, I'm just trying to make sure nobody overhears me telling you...we're busted."

"Busted?"

"Yep. Apparently our clandestine late-night meet-up was not clandestine enough." I gave him a run-down of the conversation I'd had with Mercy that afternoon. I could practically hear Tad wincing over the phone.

"Oh, man," he said, groaning. "I should have warned Mercy beforehand. I should've told her-"

"Told her what?" I said. "That you wanted to come visit my room in the middle of the night?"

"No. I don't know. I just...I wanted to see you, and I didn't think it through. I should've been more careful."

Tad's guilt monster was rearing its ugly head again. I had the impulse to tell him to knock it off, but instead I found myself saying, "I like it when you're not so careful. I mean - when it comes to secret missions, yes. But when it comes to me..." I trailed off, thinking about what it had felt like to be sitting on his lap with his arms wrapped tight around me.

Tad was silent for a moment. He cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded a lot lower when he said, "My mind is going interesting places right now, Jesse."

"Oh?" I swallowed, feeling a strange flush run all the way through me. "Like where?"

"Like..." He trailed off, and I could practically hear him giving himself a shake over the phone. "Like how I want to take you out. For real. I don't know when, Jesse, but I'll figure something out."

"You are so old-fashioned," I said. "I find it oddly attractive."

"I find everything about you attractive," Tad said, so quickly I got the sense it had tumbled out before he could stop himself.

I bit my lip, staring up at the ceiling and grinning like an idiot. "I wish you could sneak into my room right now."

"And risk the wrath of Mercy?"

"I'd risk more than that." I was pretty sure I was in the same state of mind Tad was. It felt a little bit like being drunk; the thoughts were just coming out before I had time to process whether I should actually say them or not.

Tad was quiet for a minute before he finally said, "I'd risk more than that, too."

Warmth rushed to my cheeks, and then I was grinning like an idiot again.

Tad didn't call the next day. But Baba Yaga did.

"Baba Yaga? Really?" I mouthed to Mercy as my dad took the phone.

"Really," Mercy mouthed back, and then we all stood there eavesdropping while my dad talked to her.

We included Aiden, who I was finally getting used to having around. In fact, now that Aiden and I were allies, I was hoping I'd eventually be able to learn a little more about his whole history with Underhill. I wasn't in a place to ask about it yet, but we were getting there.

The news wasn't great: my dad and Mercy had been summoned to a meeting with the fae. They talked Aiden out of going with them, which I thought was probably a good move. An hour or so after they left, I got a text from Izzy.

R U SEEING THIS?!

Me: Seeing what?

Izzy: Cable Bridge is gone. All over EVERYTHING

I blinked at my phone.

"What?" Aiden said, seeing my expression. We'd been hanging out in the rec room while Ben walked him through some finer points of ISTDPBF.

"Cable Bridge," I said, feeling numb. "Turn on the news."

Ben snatched the remote and turned on the giant TV on the wall. "If those bloody wankers have summoned another bloody troll - "

But there wasn't a troll on the bridge. Or anything else, for that matter. The news was showing the same clip over and over: the river rising up and dragging Cable Bridge down into its depths. Ben let out a string of words I hadn't heard before. Which was impressive, even from Ben.

"Did the frogging fae do that?" Ben demanded. He didn't really say frogging. He was asking Aiden, but Aiden was just staring at the TV, lost in thought.

"It must have been one of the Gray Lords," I said slowly. "But I don't know which one."

"It hardly farting matters which one! If the fae can fight like that -"

"Just one of them can," I pointed out.

"If one of them can control rivers with his mind, why in the sodding blue nancies have those liver-lilied puddle muckers been fudging around with us all week? First the filthy troll, then the attack on the house..."

"This wasn't an attack," Aiden said quietly. "It was a show of power. The Gray Lords must be willing to make a compromise."

"That? That's their soggy idea of compromise?" said Ben.

"It must be," I said, realizing Aiden was right. "The bridge was closed. The Gray Lords knew there was no one on it. This...this must be what they're meeting with Dad and Mercy about. The timing's too coincidental." I stood up and started pacing. "The Gray Lords wanted my dad there to see this. Which means that whatever they are about to do, they want people to know it's not because they were scared. Especially not of the werewolves."

Ben watched me pace for a minute, then remarked, "It's scary how much you remind me of your dad sometimes."

"Thanks," I said absently. A comparison to the Alpha from any of the wolves was high praise. But I was still working out exactly what the fae had destroyed the bridge for. I stopped and turned to Aiden abruptly. "The fae can't go back to Underhill, can they?"

Aiden shook his head no, confirming this. "Underhill is too dangerous for them right now. For a time, she let them dwell in her borders again. But now...I think Underhill may never be safe for them again."

He didn't add especially as long as I'm here, but I could see it in his expression.

"So the only place for them to live is totally in the human realm."

"So it would seem," Aiden agreed.

"What're you lot getting at?" Ben said.

"The reservations aren't that big, land-wise," I said. "From what I've heard, the only reason all the fae can fit on them is because there are doors to Underhill. But if Underhill's not safe - "

"Everybody has to share," Ben said, catching on. "And if the troll's any indication, the fae are bloody bad at sharing."

I looked back at Aiden. "So there are fae gunning for war."

"I am sure there are fae who want to wipe out the humans entirely," Aiden said.

"But not the Gray Lords," I said, still pacing. "If the Gray Lords wanted a war, they could not only have it, they could win it. Well, probably," I amended, thinking of nuclear bombs. "But they don't want a war. They want to make peace, but without looking weak."

"So bye-bye, Cable Bridge," Ben said. "Oy, hang on. Aren't we trying to keep Aiden away from the Gray Lords? Why in filthy mucking bogs are they the ones suing for peace?"

"They want Aiden because Underhill wants Aiden," I said, glancing at Aiden to confirm this. "But they're not, you know, genocidal. They're...they're the ones who wanted the fae to start marrying humans. Because too many fae were starting to die off." Basically, they were the reason Tad existed. "I guess they must have developed a soft spot for humans in the process," I reasoned. Or at least - the ones who hadn't been holding Tad hostage must have.

"Soft spot might be an exaggeration for most of them," Aiden said. "But it's probably basically right."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Thanks for the endorsement."

"You know, it's a bit scary how much you know about the fae for someone who's not supposed to know anything at all," Ben commented.

Aiden narrowed his eyes. "That's true. The fae wouldn't be pleased if they knew how much you know."

"I'll be sure to avoid bringing it up the next time I'm at a cocktail mixer with the Gray Lords," I said.

"What?" Aiden said.

"Never mind. Bad joke."

When Dad and Mercy got home later, they more or less confirmed everything I'd guessed. I was dying to talk to Tad about all this, but he didn't call that night. He just sent me a text that said he was okay, which at least kept me from worrying about him excessively. But it didn't keep me from having a dull little ache in my chest from missing him, that wouldn't go away.

Generally speaking, I did not moon over guys.

I mean, there might've been the occasional mooning when it came to certain actors of the superhero persuasion. But I'd never been the type to get all ga-ga over anybody. The few times I'd had fluttery, slightly dopey feelings about a guy, I still tended to keep my head on pretty straight.

I wasn't a cynic. But I think something about watching my parents split up at the tender age of nine made me realize that the fluttery feelings don't last forever. And I firmly believed that just because you liked someone didn't mean you had to surrender your brain to hormones.

Which meant I was pretty astonished to realize, over the next couple days, that my brain had adjusted to basically two settings:

1. Talking to Tad

2. Waiting for Tad to call

It was a little pathetic. But not quite as pathetic as it sounds.

For one thing, it's not like I spent my whole day staring at my phone willing it to ring. Hellllooooo, I still had a life.

But after a couple days, I realized I'd gotten into the habit of replaying conversations with Tad in my head while I got ready for school in the morning. Sometimes I got so distracted I lost track of where I was in the middle of flossing and had to start over again.

I had the opposite problem during class. I found myself paying more attention to my note-taking than usual, so I didn't spend all day worrying about whether Tad was in mortal peril.

After school, I'd catch myself staring at the clock approximately once every five minutes while I did my homework, counting down the seconds until Tad contacted me.

On top of this, I'd also managed to replay our midnight makeout session about a thousand times in my head. I kept thinking I shouldn't, like maybe I'd wear out the memory if I took it out and examined it too many times. I also had a slight fear that if I thought about kissing him too much, I'd turn into some sort of sappy weirdo, like Lavender Brown in the sixth Harry Potter book, who for some reason thought it was appropriate to go around calling her boyfriend Won-Won! and wanting to suck face with him, like, all of the time.

"Omigod, you are not Lavender Brown," Izzy said at lunch on Tuesday, when I finally voiced this fear. "The only reason we're even talking about Tad right now is because, as usual, I have successfully pried the information out of you with my metaphorical best-friend crowbar."

This was true. I'd been feeling so embarrassed about how much I'd been thinking about Tad that for the last few days I'd refused to bring him up at all.

"Well...just because I'm not mentioning him doesn't mean I'm not thinking about him," I said, picking at the crust of my sandwich.

"It would honestly be weird if you weren't thinking about him."

"Yeah, but I mean like...constantly. All the time. Too much."

Izzy squinted at me, evidently performing some sort of best friend ESP, because the next thing she said was, "Jesse?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not turning into your mom."

"Okay," I said. I was simultaneously impressed by Izzy's mind-reading skills and also not convinced she was correct.

Because as much as I'd been thinking about Tad, I'd also had a lot of nagging worries in the back of my head, and they pretty much all had to do with my mom. My mom was an expert at getting involved with guys too deeply too fast. And the results had been...not spectacular.

"I mean it," Izzy went on. "You're not jumping into this head first just because you want a guy around, or whatever."

In this case, we both knew that or whatever meant that my mom specifically wanted a guy around to clean up all the messes she didn't want to deal with. She still roped my dad into doing this on a regular basis, because she knew his Alpha-werewolf instincts wouldn't allow him to do anything less. Exhibit A: My mom's current location in the Bahamas. Aka as far away as my dad could reasonably get her on short notice.

"Okay, maybe I'm not my mom," I said. "But maybe I'm just as bad in a different way. I mean, what if I'm jumping into this head-first because of danger and peril? I think all the fighting-to-the-death in my place of residence might have given my hormones a false sense of urgency."

"Naaah," Izzy said. "Well, okay, maybe a little. But I don't see the problem with that. Because I think we can all agree that Tad is not one of your mom's awful boyfriends. I mean, he's definitely not going to turn into an evil lava monster and start stalking you or anything."

"You don't know that," I joked.

Izzy rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless. And also in denial, if you think this is anything but a good thing."

"Of course it's a good thing," I said, because I could not deny that everything about Tad was good. "It's just...I don't feel quite like myself, Iz. Or maybe it's that I feel like myself, but on crack."

"His love, his love, his love is your drug?" Izzy quoted.

"Old-school Ke$ha. A poet for the ages," I agreed.

"Well, all I can say is: if it's happening, just let it happen. And if you start to act like Lavender Brown, I will stage an intervention."

"That would be appreciated," I said.

Then Izzy switched back to her favorite topic: trying to figure out what magical artifact we could possibly give the fae to appease them. This was, apparently, the fae's main demand, given that we refused to return Aiden to their less-than-tender keeping.

Izzy didn't have any better idea what sort of magical artifact would make the fae happy than I did, but we had a lot of fun coming up with outrageous items that probably didn't exist, and this kept my brain from going back to its constant Tad-loop until the bell rang.

On Tuesday night, Baba Yaga called again.

We had just finished dinner, so Aiden and I were able to sloooowly clean off the kitchen table while Mercy talked on the phone. My dad stood there in a state of extreme tension, listening in. I had no desire to be a werewolf, but sometimes I wished I had supernatural hearing that I could turn on and off at will.

However, in this case, it wasn't hard to deduce the purpose of Baba Yaga's call. She was giving Mercy hints about how to find an artifact that would appease the fae.

Having an Alpha werewolf for a dad meant I'd grown up knowing a fairly interesting array of supernatural allies. It wasn't until Mercy came into our lives that I realized knowing a bunch of wolves and our local witch was only the tip of the iceberg.

Mercy didn't just attract allies, either, like my dad did - she had downright admirers. Apparently being the daughter of Coyote with a heart of gold was like catnip to people who'd lived for hundreds or thousands of years.

Anyway.

The outrageous result of Baba Yaga's call was that Aiden volunteered to obtain a fae artifact we could use to bargain with the fae. But in order to obtain it, he would have to return to Underhill. Along with - apparently - my dad and Mercy.

I attempted to contain my sudden sense of gut-wrenching fear and doom with something as non-emotional as possible: logic. I'm not sure if this is something I learned from my dad or just a personal coping mechanism, but the more something scares me, the more matter-of-fact I tend to get. "Okay. You, I understand," I said, pointing to my dad. "You can keep everyone safe. Aiden has to go in, but why Mercy? Why not Zee, who is fae, or Tad, who is nearly fae? Or another werewolf?"

Not that I wanted Tad or one of the pack to go in, either. In fact, I didn't want any of them to go in. Underhill was too dangerous. The whole idea was crazy. Aiden was crazy for volunteering to go back.

I felt like I could hardly argue with Aiden, considering his entire reason for going was that he wanted to keep me safe. But I was not in favor of this whole my-parents-had-to-go-with-him plan.

So I tried to put it in Dread Pirate's Booty terms everybody would understand, and informed my dad that, even though he was the muscle in this boarding party, he was not a sacrificial tank, and everybody had better get home safe or else. I even made a joke about how I couldn't live with my mom or we'd kill each other.

But underneath it all, I was just scared. Because it never got easier to watch my dad go off into life-threatening situations.

And this time, I was determined, they would not leave me behind.

It was hard to concentrate on my homework that night. It was hard to concentrate on anything. I kept staring at my phone, hoping Tad would call, and that he would have some sort of magical fae artifact solution. Anything would be better than this crazy let's-go-steal-something-from-Underhill mission.

But Tad didn't call, and I fell asleep with knots in my stomach, worrying about him and my dad and Mercy and Aiden and Zee. I had a dream in which we were all in Mercy's VW van, driving over Cable Bridge, only the bridge kept collapsing and reappearing and then collapsing again, so the whole dream was just falling without ever reaching bottom.

Eventually, I drifted off into deeper sleep, and when I woke up, things were better.

Because Tad and Zee had returned in the middle of the night.

And they helped convince my dad to let me go to the fae reservation, where I was prepared to wait however long it took for them to come back to me.

It was a pretty agonizing car ride.

For one thing, we were driving toward something extremely dangerous that could end in a variety of horrible, terrible, very bad ways.

And for another, Tad was in the car, like literally three feet behind me, and I couldn't touch him. In fact, I hadn't touched him all morning. Not even a hug.

If Tad had just shown up with Zee out of the blue, I probably could've gotten away with hugging him in front of everyone, and passed it off as sheer excitement. But as it happened, Tad and Zee hadn't shown their faces until we'd finished eating breakfast. Which meant that they'd appeared in the middle of a heated argument about whether or not I'd be allowed to go to the fae reservation, when I was in no mood to hug anyone.

There'd only been time for me to lock eyes with him across the kitchen, and feel all the angst and worry from the last five days drain out of me at seeing that he was safe.

Unfortunately, there was plenty of brand-new angst and worry to go around. The air in my dad's car was thick with tension, which was only broken when Mercy struck up a conversation with Aiden.

About Underhill, of all things.

I joined in, though, asking Aiden questions - partly because I needed to do something to keep my mind occupied, and partly because I realized that it calmed my nerves to hear what Aiden knew. If I had some clue as to what they'd be doing in Underhill, I could try to imagine where they were on their quest, and what they were up to at a given moment. Not that it would help me figure out the timing of their return, of course. But at least it was something to grasp onto, instead of envisioning them heading off into a complete blank unknown.

One of the worst things about them going into Underhill, though, was that we had no idea when they would return. However much time passed for them in Underhill, the time that passed out here would be completely different. For all we knew, they could be gone for days. Or weeks. Or even longer.

I was trying not to think about it.

So instead, I listened to Aiden talk about why Underhill was mad at him, and what Underhill's game was. It sounded like a pretty gruesome game. My one consolation was that at least Aiden knew how to play it. And Mercy and my dad had a proven track record of beating people at their own games.

I'd never been to one of the fae reservations before. Despite the circumstances, I couldn't help looking around with interest as we drove behind our horse-mounted escorts, past a creepy looking guard fence, and into...a super boring-looking suburb.

Not even kidding. It was like the fae had looked at a map of Smalltown, USA and made an extremely unimaginative-looking copy. I knew there were a lot more important things going on right now, but I couldn't help feeling disappointed. This place was literally full of magical people. Where was all the magic?

My question was answered when we were ushered into a small, extremely ugly building - and found ourselves in a huge-ass room with a fancypants marble floor and giant marble columns.

"It's a TARDIS!" I said, and then had to explain to Aiden what the TARDIS was.

By the time I finished explaining, we were in a book-lined office talking to one of the Gray Lords. Zee said something pointed about making sure I was protected while I was here, and the Gray Lord agreed. Which was good, I was sure. Especially knowing what had happened to Tad, Zee, and Aiden at the hands of the fae on this very reservation, I had to be grateful for any pledges of protection I got from an actual fae here.

But at the same time, I thought all the worrying about my safety was unnecessary, considering that once my dad, Mercy, and Aiden departed for Underhill, I would be the safest person in our entire group.

I tried not to dwell on this as they went over the contract and signed a bunch of things. I was doing pretty well at keeping it together until it was time for them to go, and then Mercy turned to me and put both her lamb necklace and the chain with my dad's dog tags on it around my neck.

"These are our promise to you," she said, "that we'll do our best to get back to you if we can. That we will do our best and expect the same from you."

It took everything in me not to burst into tears.

What kind of promise is that to make to somebody? That you'll do your best to get back to them if you can? If you're making a promise, shouldn't you be promising to get back to somebody no matter what?

But I knew what they were heading into. I knew that Mercy had been careful to make the truest promise she could have made. Because of course they would try to get back to me. But there was no guarantee they could.

So I blinked back tears and kept holding it together while my dad changed into his werewolf form. And then we were suddenly at the entrance to Underhill. And I made Aiden promise not to get stuck in Underhill, and said good-bye to everyone.

And then they were gone, and it was just me, Tad, Zee, and the Gray Lord, and I'd never felt more alone.

Zee insisted on finding someplace more comfortable to wait. I was so consumed with worry I don't think I would have cared if we'd all just stayed there staring at the doorway until they returned. But Zee pointed out that we didn't actually know which doorway they'd be returning through, so I nodded and followed him out of the room.

My dad had never been this far out of reach before. Even when I'd been kidnapped all those years ago, I could still imagine where he was in the world. We were still in the same dimension, where at least I knew that the number of seconds ticking by for him were the same number of seconds that ticked by for me.

Tad fell into step beside me and took my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. Nothing could take away the fear, but some of the tension in me unspooled from touching him. I held onto his hand tightly as the Gray Lord led us to what looked like a little apartment, complete with a small kitchen, cozy sitting room, and adjoining bedroom. The Gray Lord left, and then it was just the three of us.

Zee lit a fire in the fireplace. Tad led me to the sitting room couch, where we sat down.

No one tried to tell me it was going to be okay, which I appreciated. In fact, nobody said anything at all for a while. Then Zee announced, "All right, lieblings, this old man is going to rest for a while. Yell if it looks like someone's trying to kill you."

He was joking. I think.

And then the door to the bedroom was shut and Zee was gone and it was just the two of us.

I was silent for a minute, just staring at the fire, until Tad said, "Jesse..." and I turned to him.

"I hate this," I said.

"I know."

And then I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms tight around me. Everything was still terrible, but he was warm and steady and reassuring and I felt better for a moment, just a little.