I nodded in understanding. “She’s dying. That’s fear driving her.”
“I don’t really care what’s driving her,” Cormack countered. “She turned her back on her family. Worse, she was willing to sacrifice her family for her selfish needs. I have no respect for the woman.”
I couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t withdrawn his love. She was his mother, so of course that meant he still loved her. The rage he felt regarding what she’d done, however, was palpable. I knew better than to delve into his emotions — the Grimlocks were grizzly bears when it came to warding their feelings — but I couldn’t help myself. “Have you stopped in to see her?”
Cormack’s expression was blank. “Why would I want to see her?”
“She’s your mother.”
“I don’t care.”
I knew better. He cared. Much like his children, though, he would dig his heels in rather than admit it. I risked a glance at Cillian and found him studying his father’s strong profile with an unreadable face. He obviously loved his father and worried about the toll this was taking on him, yet he seemed perfectly comfortable taking a step back to let Cormack work things out on his own.
It was frustrating to behold.
“What about your father?” I pressed, refusing to let it go. “What do you expect to happen when we bring back the gate?”
Cormack tilted his head as if confused. “What do you mean?”
I hesitated and then barreled forward. “Do you think he’ll be there, ready to cross back over?” On the same day Mary had been taken into custody, Emmet Grimlock was knocked through the barrier that separated the living from the dead. He’d been injured at the time and odds seemed slim he’d somehow been able to survive. Still, there was always a chance, and given who the Grimlocks were, I’d learned on numerous occasions that they could defy the most insurmountable odds.
“I think it’s doubtful he’ll be waiting to cross over,” Cormack replied stiffly. “If he does show up, I’m ready. He can have the room next to where they’re keeping my mother. They can rot there together.”
The words were bold and yet his shifting aura reflected sadness. From what I’d been able to glean from his children, he’d never been close to his parents. They were rigid, expected certain things from him, and he’d never once kowtowed to their whims. After his wife died they had even tried to take advantage of him by removing two of his children to their home so they could mold them in their image, but Cormack had refused to allow it. He knew what his children needed best, and it certainly wasn’t Mary and Emmet.
“Well, for your sake, I hope he is waiting to come back over,” I offered. “It’s better to know than live with an endless series of questions.”
Cormack’s expression softened as he moved a hand to my shoulder. He knew the memories of what happened to my parents remained a black hole in my mind. I was haunted by what could’ve been and needed to know definitively what had happened. However, we’d yet to solve that conundrum. “If my father died over there, he had it coming.”
“I don’t want to make excuses for him ... .”
“Then don’t.” Cormack’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “He did wrong. He deserves whatever he got.”
“He did wrong,” I agreed. “He didn’t want to lose his wife, though.”
“There are worse things than death,” Cormack shot back. “There are also more important things than survival ... like honor and loyalty.”
I nodded in agreement. We were on the same page there.
I remembered Lily at this point and shifted my gaze to the baby. She’d gone quiet during the melancholy discussion and her smile had evaporated. The baby was an empath. I’d managed to suss that out soon after meeting her. She was only happy when those around her were happy, and right now, everybody seemed to be in a foul mood.
I decided to change the subject.
“So, what are Lily and her favorite uncle doing today?”
Cillian brightened considerably as he bounced the baby on his hip, causing her to giggle. “We’re going to the park.”
I couldn’t contain my surprise. “Isn’t she a little young to enjoy the park?”
“She likes the swings. I put her in the carrier and swing a little bit and she likes it. I think she feels as if she’s flying.”
Since I could see that, I smiled encouragingly. “Well, that sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon.”
“It does,” Cillian agreed. “Speaking of that, though, I should get going.”
“You should,” Cormack agreed. “We’ll be flipping the switch any moment and I don’t want her here.” He leaned in and kissed Lily’s forehead. “As for you, Grandpa will see you later. He might have a present for you if you’re lucky.”
I rolled my eyes. Lily had two rooms all to herself in Grimlock Manor, the enormous house Cormack owned in one of the ritziest suburbs in the state. “She’s going to need a third room if you keep buying her stuff,” I warned.
“It’s okay. She can have as many rooms as she wants.” Cormack gave her another kiss and then focused on Cillian. “Text right before you’re leaving so I know she’s safe.”
“And me, too, right?” Cillian’s grin was cheeky.
“No, just the baby.” Cormack snickered as he patted Cillian’s back, his smile staying firm as Paris Princeton, the newest worker under my care at the gate, skated around Cillian and landed in the room.
“All those Grimlock boys are hotter than chicken in an air fryer,” she announced, her face flushed. “I mean ... if I was fifteen years younger and not happily married ... whooee!”
Cormack’s smile only broadened at the enthusiastic welcome. “It would be best if you didn’t mention that in front of my sons. They already have huge egos.”
“I wonder where they got that from,” I teased, moving to the control panel so I could watch the electronic monitors come online. “Soon. The system is warming up and running through diagnostics.”
“Good.” Cormack moved to stand next to me. “Are you ready to make history, Paris?”
“I am.” Paris bobbed her dark head. “I’m also excited because I just got word from my friends, the ones I was telling you about.”
“The mage,” I murmured. Paris had done little else but boast about her powerful friend over the past few weeks. Even though I was looking forward to meeting the woman, I was also starting to dread the impending explosion of magic. If Zoe Lake-Winters was as powerful as everyone pretended, then she would make a terrific ally. Of course, as the only bruja on the premises, I was used to being the strongest magical weapon in our arsenal. I wasn’t keen on being displaced.
“Yeah. They’ll be here shortly. Zoe says they’re stuck in traffic but winding their way through Detroit.”
“That’s good.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Hopefully we’ll have the gate issues ironed out before they get here.”
“That would be nice,” Paris agreed, moving to her station. “I don’t think Zoe is going to be all that eager to hear about the mechanics of the gate. She used to glaze over in college when we had to learn about constellations in astronomy class. She thought we would simply look at them from a telescope, not sketch them and have to spout scientific facts about their formation. She wasn’t happy.”