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“Hungry?”

Heat flared in her cheeks. “It’s the best word I could think of.”

“You wanted him.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe. But that’s not what I meant. I simply wanted to be a part of society again, to be a normal girl who wasn’t set apart from everyone else. He was sweet and kind, and I knew he’d be patient with me as I learned how to control his—our—power. I sensed he could be a friend and maybe something more, eventually.”

“Was it quick?”

She swallowed. “No. And I only made it worse. I’d been warned I might feel a shock, so when he kissed my hand, I was waiting. I didn’t notice he hadn’t moved. Until he collapsed. I should have left him and run for help, but I didn’t realize it was my fault. It was so obvious, of course. The same thing happened to the child I was playing tag with on the day I became Finestra, butthatboy wasn’t a Fonte. He was just a boy who had the bad luck to be touching me when the gift came. So, I tried to comfort Emer. I yelled for help.” She hiccupped a watery laugh. “I wanted him to know I was there, that he wasn’t alone.”

Her knuckles were white as bone around her glass.

“Because that’s what I would have wanted. No one should suffer or die alone. By the time help came, when I started to understand what was happening, he was already dead.”

“What did you do?” Dante asked softly.

The dishes before her blurred into a watercolor still life.

“I held his hand.”

Dante was still asleep when Alessa padded into the sitting area in the morning, wrung out and hollow.

Dea must have known he’d spend his life trying to be surly, so she’d crafted a face that would draw people to him anyway. Or maybe she’d meant to bless him with perfect featuresandcharm, but he’d rebelled with sarcasm and a prickly demeanor.

His eyes opened, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Morning, sunshine,” she said with a brittle smile. “Our mission awaits.”

For Renata, “bonding” had to involve weaponry, so the first item on the Fontes’ agenda was whacking each other with blunt swords. Alessa doubted it would do much to build camaraderie. They weren’t a team. They were miserable quasi strangers trying not to look at each other.

They took their positions in one long row, eyes forward. Renata strode up and down the line, correcting form, instructing them to picture an invisible opponent, but Alessa visualized each step and flick of the blade as a dance. She’d neveractuallydanced with anyone, but her foil became her partner, responsive to her touch, cutting a silver trail through the air. Her muscles grew pleasantly fatigued, and everything fell away.

Renata’s loud clap was as startling as being pushed into a cold lake, and Alessa’s foil clattered to the ground.

They all watched it roll across the floor.

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Kaleb said under his breath.

With a pained smile, Renata declared Alessa in charge. Herabsence left a strange and unpleasant intimacy in the room, and Alessa polished her foil with unnecessary vigor.

Kaleb threw his sword on the ground with a clang. “Can someone tell me why we’re practicing fighting skills when we have magic?”

Kamaria shot him a death glare. “Not everyone lives in a walled villa, and anyone less privileged than yourself—in other words,everyone—knows it’s worth learning how to defend yourself.”

Kaleb rolled his eyes. “How many times haveyoufought off an attacker?”

“Ask him.” She pointed at Dante. “I bethe’lltell you.”

Dante straightened at the sudden shift of attention his way. “Tell him what?”

“That it’s important to know self-defense.”

“Oh, sure. If that’s what you call it.” Dante’s lips quirked.

“What’s so funny?” Kaleb demanded. “If you have a problem, say it to my face.”

Dante stood. “You think a scarabeo will sayen gardebefore it eats you?”