“I’m not mad that she told you,” I said. “I just . . . It’s like this shadow hanging over me that never goes away. And now there’s this lawsuit, and Dufreyne smirking at me with his birthright and his goddamn schadenfreude, and I’m just so sick of feeling helpless!”

The atmosphere in the room tightened as I lost control of my emotions, a hot, acid-tinged wash of pent fury spilling over me. A flawless crystal vase on an end table vibrated with a high-pitched sound in protest. Lurine reached out to lay one hand atop the rim, stilling it. “I know.”

Closing my eyes, I struggled to control my anger, putting it in a box. No, a trunk. A trunk reinforced with steel bands. “I had so much power in my dream, Lurine,” I whispered. “And it felt so good.”

“I bet it did.”

It wasn’t exactly the response I’d expected. I opened my eyes to find Lurine watching me, a neutral expression on her beautiful face. “Shouldn’t you remind me that it was all just an illusion or something?” I said to her. “Or maybe just reassure me that I’m not capable of it?”

“You know perfectly well that it was just a dream,” Lurine said. “Daisy, you invoked your worst nightmare. On purpose. And you set your friend Sinclair on a dark path he didn’t want to walk to do it.”

“The Night Hag—”

She raised one hand. “Baby girl, I’m not saying it wasn’t worth it. You did what you had to do, and now you’re paying a price for it. That’s all.”

“So you don’t think I’m capable of it?” There was a part of me that really, really wanted to hear those words spoken out loud by someone who knew and loved me.

Lurine didn’t oblige me. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t?” she asked with genuine curiosity in her voice.

I thought about it.

No. No, I wouldn’t. Because it wouldn’t scare me so much if I didn’t believe in my heart of hearts that I was capable of invoking my birthright, of risking destroying the entire freaking world because I’d been pushed to the point where I couldn’t stand my own powerlessness another second longer.

Strangely enough, the realization was bracing, maybe because it also made me realize that I was a long, long way from that point. “No.”

Lurine smiled a little. “Good. Look, I know you’re upset and frustrated, but there’s nothing you can do about it right now, Daisy. Like it or not, sometimes you just have to accept it.”

“Just like that?” I asked ruefully.

“Ah, well.” Lurine’s expression of deliberate neutrality shifted to something more complicated, a hint of the millennia-old monster surfacing behind the gorgeous mask of a B-movie starlet. “I didn’t say it would be easy. But patience is a virtue worth practicing, especially in the face of the unknown.” She paused. “Did Hel offer any insight as to who might be behind this?”

I shook my head. “Hel suspects that Hades, or the Greek Hades, as she likes to call him, is acting on behalf of another’s interests. Beyond that, she refused to speculate. Any thoughts?”

“When it comes to the Olympians, none worth voicing,” Lurine said with disdain. “The mere thought of them makes me restless.” She shivered, then wriggled herself upright with serpentine grace, her entire body undulating. “In fact, I think I’d like to go down to the lake for a swim.” She winked at me. “Want to come watch?”

Um, yeah. Totally.

I flushed. “I’ll pass.”

Extending one hand, Lurine tugged me off her couch. “Your loss. How is your love life these days, cupcake?”

I thought about my upcoming date with Stefan. “Interesting.”

“Interesting,” she echoed. “Care to clarify?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” Lurine cocked her head slightly, contemplating me, then flicked her tongue like a snake, leaned forward, and kissed me.

I was too startled to react. It wasn’t much more than a light, friendly peck on the lips, and coming from anyone else, it would have been almost innocuous. Coming from anyone else, it wouldn’t have resulted in my lips getting numb and tingly in a not-unpleasant way, followed by a rush of euphoria that warmed my skin all over and set the blood to singing in my veins. All I could do was blink at her in a stupefied manner.

“That’s better,” Lurine said with satisfaction, as though she’d just fixed my lipstick or wiped a smudge off my cheek. “You need to get out of your head, cupcake. Stop worrying so much.”

I blinked a few more times.

“It’ll wear off in a minute or two.” She gave me an affectionate pat on the head. “Don’t feel you need to mention this to your mother, okay?”

I ran my tongue around the inside of my tingling lips and tested my voice. “Um . . . okay.”

“Good girl.” Lurine patted my head again. “Oh, and tell that tall hunk of a ghoul that if he hurts you in any way, I’ll crush him to pieces. Slowly. All right?”

“Uh-huh.” Apparently she’d figured out what interesting meant, or at least I assumed that’s what she meant. It was hard to think clearly. It still felt like there were firecrackers going off inside me, in a good way, if that makes any sense.

“Okeydokey.” Taking my arm, Lurine steered me toward the foyer. “Edgerton, will you bring Miss Johanssen’s coat?” she called down the hallway. “I’ll be out at the lake for a while.”