“Cousin Theo is hurt!” Izzie said, without lifting her head off Jillian’s shoulder. “He almost died because of what that man did, and his mate might have died too, and you didn’t even care.”
“He is barely a cousin,” Dimitri said dismissively. He looked at Theo and hissed. “You call me a traitor to our honor for taking gold from a human who has done no harm to us, but you can mate with one? His daughter? If he is dishonorable, so is she. The same blood runs in her veins.”
“The same blood runs in mine as runs in yours,” Theo said. “And I sever any connection with you. Gordon Marcus is a thief and a liar who hurt the poor. Do we live up to our own standards for honor, or do sell the worth of dragons to whoever brings us gold?”
He looked at Jillian. She hadn’t let go of Izzie. Right now, she didn’t care about their ruined evening. All she cared about was helping a scared, sobbing girl.
All Jillian cared about was someone’s heart. That was all he cared about as well. It was what these people had brought him up to care about, even if they didn’t know it. He hadn’t come out of nowhere. He had come out of the valley of Riell, and he had to believe that there was good here. That there was honor.
If they turned from him now, he didn’t know what he would do, and then, with a cool certainty, he did. He would walk away from them. He would take Jillian—and Izzie too, if she wanted to go—and he wo
uld go back to his world. His friends. His home.
Then, slowly, Izzie’s mother raised her hand. She looked so nervous, like a girl about to volunteer an answer she thought might be wrong.
Elizabeth Benoit said, “I want to bring him here. You can return him to face justice, can’t you? You do such things now.”
Jillian spoke before Theo could. “Yes. He does that now.”
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said, and what shocked Theo was that she said it directly to Jillian and Izzie. “I hurt you, my darling, and I put you in a position where you would have to risk hurting this woman. You chose not to, because your honor outstrips mine. If I still had the right to be proud of you, I would proclaim that pride to this whole room.”
All of Isabelle’s teenaged cool deserted her. “Mother!” she cried out. She ran across the room and tucked herself into Elizabeth’s arms.
“I’m sorry, Miss Marcus,” Elizabeth said over her daughter’s shoulder. “No amount of treasure would have been worth this pain.”
“Thank you,” Jillian said quietly.
It seemed that Elizabeth’s speech had tipped the balance of the room, because Dimitri was seized and held while Elizabeth disappeared. Theo spent the time she was gone wondering if she really would come back. He wanted to believe that she would.
She did. He saw that in Jillian’s face before he saw them in the door. He saw Jillian’s eyes as she saw her father again.
13
Jillian
“Dad?”
He looked older than she remembered, and he was a man who had kept his youth far longer than most. These days, when she looked into the mirror and saw the crow’s feet starting to form at the corners of her eyes, she thought she knew why.
He had never worried, never once. He had never done all the work he’d claimed to do. He had taken the easiest possible way every time, even when it came to facing justice or running. All that had aged him now had been losing... losing, and having to destroy what he had loved. She knew all of that.
But it still hurt her, somehow, to see him with his once thick silver hair turned thin and dingy gray. His muscles, hard from squash and racquetball and swimming, had softened, taking away the strong tone of his body. He had a scruffy beard that she thought was less of a disguise and more of an indication that he, who had always taken so much pride in his appearance, had given up on his daily shave.
All the accusations she had hurled at him over the years had never hit the mark. She had never left a dent. Only now did he look his age.
He was looking at her as if he, too, barely recognized her. “Jillian?”
He had never called her Jilly. Only Tiffani had ever done that.
The room around them was so quiet. Why did all of these people, so serenely comfortable and superior up until now, suddenly care what she had to say? She hadn’t wanted their attention. All she had demanded was enough goodwill to get Theo the help he needed—Dr. Mendoza’s friendship and Isabelle’s wary liking had been wonderful only because they’d been freely given. She didn’t want respect she would have to steal. She didn’t want to be notable to them only because of this.
But here she was. At last, they were listening to her. All at once she understood why Theo had always felt so much pressure out in the real world. When you were the only one of your kind, you knew they wanted you to be perfect.
Or you thought they wanted that. Theo’s friends hadn’t.
Isabelle hadn’t. Dr. Mendoza hadn’t. Maybe Isabelle’s mom felt the same way. Maybe some others in this room did, too.
Any place that Theo loved had to be full of good people. Thinking that let her trust them all enough to speak in front of them, to be more vulnerable than she’d ever been.