Page 51 of Song of the Hell Witch

Pru couldn’t get the room to stop spinning. She kept hold of Puck’s arm, and he led her over to one of the tables and helped her sit down. He was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him. All she could do was stare at the floor and will the sick back down into her gut.

You didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. You were just trying to survive.

“Pru, look at me.” Puck’s words managed to break through the strange ringing in her ears, and she forced herself to listen to him.

“Just because he was a monster, that doesn’t make you one.

He was trained to hide who and what he was, the same way you and I were trained to find marks and pick pockets.

Don’t go blaming yourself for loving the version of the man he let you see. ”

“Yeah, even the River Rats didn’t suspect that from the guy, and we fucking hated him,” Mari added.

The vomit climbed up her throat again. “I never said I loved him. I’ve only ever loved …” And then she remembered where she was and everything she still hadn’t told him, and she buried her face in her hands to keep the rest from tumbling out.

Mari’s hand on the small of her back grounded her a little. “How about we head up to the dormitories? The others can show you the rest of the manor later. I think you two could use some rest.”

“I’m fine, I just—”

“Pru,” Mari scolded her. “Take a bath. Take a nap . Come back to yourself before you start talking with Naomi and Rita. They’re a lot more mature than Cress, but still. You want to be at your best. And right now …”

“I’m a mess?” She was at least able to make herself chuckle. “All right, but only after—”

“Dad.”

Puck’s spine snapped into a straight line.

All three of them turned at once—and there was Beatrice, standing in the hall’s doorway, perfect and alive and happy .

Her red hair hung in crisp, glistening curls that reminded Pru of the strawberry fields outside Vivichi’s city walls.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright.

Before Puck could stand, she was off, half running, half skipping toward him.

Her trousers, the same color as her hair, were rolled at the ankle, revealing black lace-up boots that clacked along the tile.

The sleeves of her white blouse gripped her wrists tight, then billowed loose around her arms. She looked a bit like a pirate’s daughter, ready to set sail on the Marrow Sea.

And despite his injury, despite his exhaustion, Puck caught her in his arms and swung her around like she weighed nothing at all.

“Hi.” He planted a kiss on her cheek before he set her down.

Pain flashed across his face, punishment for his moment of joy, but it was quickly forgotten as he knelt down in front of her, taking her face in his hands like he had to be sure she was real.

“I don’t even know what to … you look so … are you …”

“One thought at a time, silly pants,” she teased him.

He closed his eyes, his grin growing wider at the sound of her voice.

“Never thought I’d hear you say that again.

And if I ever scold you for it, you kick me right in the shin, you hear me?

” He pulled her into a one-armed hug, and Pru could see him shaking, probably fighting the urge to burst into tears. “I thought I’d lost you.”

As she pushed away from him, Bea’s face slid into a more serious expression, one Pru couldn’t read. “Naomi says it’s important we talk. About what happened.”

“When?” Puck asked.

“With her mother.”

Pru wasn’t sure she’d ever heard such a crisp, hypnotic voice.

There was a waver to each word, like notes plucked on a glass harp.

Where Bea had rushed into the room, the woman seemed to glide.

Her burned-velvet cloak definitely helped the illusion, the black rose pattern simple and elegant.

Her black hair was salted with silver, her lips painted a deep plum, which drew out her brown skin’s golden undertones.

“Welcome, Puck Reed and Prudence Merriweather, to the Stormlash Hamlet for Leoran Women.” She stopped, folding her hands in front of her.

“I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Reed, but over the past few days, I’ve been doing sessions with your daughter here.

Her trauma, her secrets, we’ve talked about it all.

And I believe there are unresolved issues you must face if you hope to remain here with her. ”

Puck stiffened, and the warmth surrounding them died in an instant. He stood up, eyes creased in anger.

This can’t be good.

“Are you threatening to take my girl from me?” It was raspy, like he’d swallowed smoke—or fire. “Her trauma, her secrets, they’re mine to deal with, not—”

He stopped as Naomi’s eyes went black, as the silver all but disappeared from her hair, replaced by the same darkness that washed the red out of Bea’s before she’d changed.

“I suggest you refrain from testing me. After all, the entire hamlet would feel much better if I threw you out. We haven’t had a man here in centuries. ”

Do something, do something, save him from himself.

“Puck didn’t mean to insult or threaten you.

” Pru stepped between the two of them. She heard Puck mutter something under his breath—something like I definitely did —and prayed this banshee Naomi wasn’t listening.

“Let’s start over, shall we?” Palms sweating, heart thudding hard enough to crush the breath from her lungs, she stuck out her hand.

“I’m Prudence Merriweather, currently the most wanted fugitive in the country.

” Sighing, she gestured to Puck. “And this man? He’s the only reason I’m still alive. ”