''I get it,'' he said, ''the sun so loved the moon...''
His voice trailed off. We both knew the story. We knew it all too well. He was looking at me thoughtfully. I, however, turned away.
''What if,'' I began, ''the sun didn't want to die for the m...
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I called my father again that night.
"Alice Galloway," I began without greeting, "is she still working with you? Does she work for you like she worked for Owein?"
I heard my father sigh on the other end of the phone. "Eloise, it's late-"
"Answer the question."
There was a moment of silence.
"No," he finally answered, his voice stiff. "she does not."
I gripped the phone tighter in my hand. Everything in me wanted to believe him. She was a murderer. I'd seen the truth in Isaac's visions.
"Did you know?" I asked through gritted teeth. "What she was doing? Bleeding out werewolves?"
"What?" He remarked in surprise, I couldn't tell if it was genuine. "I have never tried to bleed out a werewolf, Lou."
I thought of Isaac and the vision I'd seen of her crouching down beside the dying werewolf. Alice was a monster, that much I knew. But was my father capable of something like that?
"If you didn't ask her to do that, then why the hell would she do it?" I wondered aloud, my voice still harsh.
I still needed my father to trust me, and I knew he wouldn't if I kept accusing him. I needed his trust to get the Codex back from him. If he was willing to give it to me, then maybe Anna Denvers was wrong about his intentions.
"Perhaps she's trying to protect the people of West Acres."
I laughed humorlessly. "Oh, yeah? How?"
My father, once again, sighed on the other end of the phone and I wished I could push my fist through the line. Everyone had told me that he was the reason the hunters were still here, it was what all of the signs had pointed to. But, he'd denied it and I had no proof to go on.
"You don't understand, Eloise. You don't understand the kind of creatures you're choosing to spend your time with-"
I cut him off. "No, you don't get to do that."
He cleared his throat. "If you don't believe me, just ask the witch."
My breath caught in my throat. This was the second time in the last few days that someone had told me to ask the witch. Apparently, I was missing something and either Tilly or her grandmother had it.
"What witch?"
"Take your pick. All witches distrust werewolves. The Angelos witch ought to be a good place to start. She has more personal hate for them. You might consider asking her why."
I squeezed the phone in my hands. He was talking about Tilly's grandmother. She had, of course, explained in part why she distrusted werewolves, but she hadn't gotten specific like my father apparently wanted her to. Instead of responding, I hung up on Johnathan without a goodbye.
