Matt was giving me a look of pity. Marie wasn’t looking; her eyes were fixed on Cyclone, who was swimming around her. Theresa was pretending to fend off a splashing Seraphina, though it was more like a dribble coming at her.

Right. I could do this.

Claim my place. That’s what Kash was basically saying. Right?

Battle ready. No one was going to push me away or evict me again.

“Bailey.” Seraphina had stopped splashing to tread along the deep end of the pool, a hand on Theresa. Her smile—I melted at that smile. She was waving, water dripping down her forehead, and her cheeks were glowing. “Jump in! Matt did, with his clothes.”

It struck me later that this was the moment when I was the one to choose.

I wasn’t forced somewhere. I wasn’t told to leave or coerced to play. I could stay or go. I could’ve made up some excuse, lame or not, and disappeared to Kash’s house. He wouldn’t have judged me. No one would have. And I got that when Marie and Theresa both looked up after Seraphina’s request. Both had warmed to me during this last week. Marie never said the words, but I saw it now. Finally. There was a welcome in her eyes.

In that moment, I could do what I wanted.

If I jumped in that pool, it was because I was choosing to stay, to continue a relationship with my siblings.

There was no question.

I jumped in.

THIRTY-ONE

Kash joined us an hour later.

He’d changed into swim shorts and sprinted in, doing a full body flip in the air before landing right between Cyclone and Matt. I had no idea how he did it, but he aimed his splash to get Matt right in the face.

I didn’t care, because it. Was. Awesome.

Scowling, Matt wiped a hand to clear the water, and then a new battle was on. Matt lost. He lost bad. He’d launch at Kash, who’d evade him, either swimming around Matt or ducking to the side or jumping out of the pool and then get him all over again. After twenty minutes of this—with Cyclone trying to help, but he really only paddled one way then to the other and then he’d turn around all over again, and with Seraphina cheering from the side—Matt couldn’t stay mad. It was humiliating, but in the best way. He was no match for Kash.

Kash was half fish.

* * *

“Did you have fun, earlier today?” Kash came to my bedroom, his hands in his pockets, as he gave me a hooded look.

“I did, yeah. You?”

We’d come back earlier to shower and change. Quinn had a charity event that Peter was meeting her at, so it was a laid-back sort of dinner again. That meant chicken nuggets or pizza for the main course. I’d just finished changing into leggings and a white top. The top was light enough to be transparent, so I had on a white tank underneath. I wasn’t going for dressy, but both shirts had my back exposed, and I was feeling enough of the girly-girl ways to look nice for Kash.

Reaching behind me for a hair tie, I turned back. Kash’s eyes were on my ass.

My body heated, and I looked down as I reached up to pull my hair up in a messy bun. I was feeling the butterflies again. I hated those things, but I hadn’t felt them in so long.

“You look nice.”

He hadn’t answered my question.

I lifted my eyes, seeing that his had darkened—and, oh boy, the butterflies fled to all my extremities. I was in for a world of hurt. I just knew it, but I couldn’t stop it. He was looking at me that way, I was feeling how I was, and there was only one way we were heading.

I didn’t know those secrets he harbored, but I had a feeling this was a rare moment in my life.

I was now here for four people.

“You okay?”

“What?” I tried to remember. Oh, yes. He said I looked nice. “Thank you. You look good too.” Because he did, deliciously. Charcoal-gray sweatpants, riding low on his hips, and a white T-shirt.

My blood was heating.

“You’re not human.”

The words were out before I caught myself. I cringed, hearing them. “I mean—” What did I mean?

The ends of his mouth tugged up and there was a faint amount of amusement in those eyes, but he only propped his shoulder against the door frame. His head tilted to the side and he raised an eyebrow in a “Come on” motion.

I groaned. “I mean—” Again. Fuck it. I faced off against him, or I felt like I was. “Why do people in this world deem you as important when the media has no idea who you are?” I motioned to him. “You’re hot. Like seriously fuck-my-ovaries hot, and you live with Peter Francis’s family. You have a supermodel wanting to date you. How is it that you’re not on the gossip sites with Matt? How is it that you say you grew up with this family and you’re working to help find the Arcane group who kidnapped me?” The dam broke in me. “You put yourself as an ‘us,’ when you’re not. You’re not like me. You’re not normal. You’re like them.” I gestured beyond him, beyond this room. “You’re powerful. How do you have the power to tell my biological father what to do? And he listens to you.”