We pass Thanksgiving Day in pleasant forgetfulness. James and his father join us, and sumptuous smells waft to us from the kitchen as we play parlor games. Henry’s face lights like a shooting star when Sonia agrees to play a game of chess. He does not seem to mind when she beats him soundly, favoring him with a gracious smile while putting him into checkmate.

Alice is wary. Like an animal that smells danger, she watches from a distance as we laugh by the light of the fire. When we adjourn to the dining room, I take my seat to the right of James. Alice surprises me by claiming the seat to his left. Her presence unnerves me, though she is mostly blocked from my view. I push aside my unease. The feast is delicious, filled with wine and conversation that goes on for two lovely hours.

We retire to the parlor once again after eating in proportions that would surely cause Miss Gray upset over our gluttony. After much prodding, Aunt Virginia sits at the piano. We gather around to sing, laughing and poking each other with elbows when we forget the words. Even Alice joins us in song, though she keeps her distance from Sonia and Luisa, and the room grows quiet as the final refrain of our last ballad rings through the parlor. The fire burns low in the grate, and Aunt Virginia, who never displays weariness of any sort, covers her yawn with a tired hand. Henry sleeps in his chair by the firebox, thick hair falling over his closed eyes.

“Well, I don’t want to break up the celebration, but I think someone needs to be brought to bed.” James looks over my shoulder as he says it, and my eyes drift to Henry.

But when I follow the sparkle in James’s eyes, it is Mr. Douglas I see, hunched and sleeping on the sofa. I smother a laugh, trying not to wake either one of them.

“Yes, well… it is rather late. Shall I ask Edmund to help you to the carriage?” I tip my head to Mr. Douglas.

“No, thank you. I’ll manage.”

There is a sleepy stumble to the waiting carriage as James settles his father and then a flurry of gay goodbyes. Aunt Virginia has disappeared to supervise cleanup in the kitchen, and Luisa and Sonia have gone to dress for bed. I look around to be sure no one is about before slipping from the warmth of the house to the terrace with James.

He wastes no time pulling me into his arms, twirling a piece of my loose hair around one fingertip. And then his lips are on mine, opening my mouth like the bud of a flower, blossoming until the petals are lush and swollen. These are the times when I feel like another Lia altogether—one who doesn’t care about Miss Gray and her books and books full of rules. One who doesn’t care what is expected of me. These are the times when I think that it is not possible for something to be wrong that is felt so fully, filling me up from the inside out.

It is James who pulls away. It is always James who pulls away, though he is the one who pulls me close as well. “Lia, Lia. I am so happy when I’m with you. You know that, don’t you?” His voice is brusque.

I smile, teasing. “Yes, of course, when I’m not driving you mad with arguments and curiosity!”

“You drive me mad with something else.” He grins before becoming more serious. “It’s true that we’ve not talked about it in any serious way. And I cannot offer you the life to which you are accustomed. But I want you to be mine, someday, when the time is right.”

My nod comes slower than I intend. “Only…”

“Only what?” Naked worry shades his eyes. We have laughed and enjoyed the evening, attempting to forget the small distance that has grown between us. It is a distance borne only by my own secrets and uncertainty, but that does not make the divide any simpler to cross.

I shake my head. “It’s nothing. I am only sad to be without Father for the holiday. Christmas shan’t be the same.” My voice rings with the truth of it, and for a moment I am able to convince myself that my grief is the only thing between James and me.

“Is that all, then? The only thing that has made you brooding and quiet these last weeks? Because I can’t help feeling there is more to it.”

Tell him. Tell him now before it is too late, before you push him away altogether. But the voice is not insistent enough. I nod, smiling up at him with as much reassurance as I can manage. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you worry. I shall be all right with time.”

I want to believe I am protecting him, but instead it is shame that keeps me quiet. Deep down, I cannot deny that I am anxious James will not have me when he realizes the wicked, ageless story of which I am a part.

“Miss Gray would not approve.” Alice’s voice greets me as I close the door, but it is not the new, hard Alice I have come to watch with guarded eyes. Her voice is playful, her figure a dim outline on the stairs. She sits carelessly on the steps, leaning her body back to rest on her elbows.

I make my way to the staircase, dropping next to her on the step. “Yes, well, I would venture a guess she would not approve of your posture at the moment, either.”

Her teeth flash in the dark, our smiles finding each other across the mystery of the quiet house. “Will you marry him?”

“I don’t know. I once thought so. I was once more sure of it than anything in the world.”

“And now?”

I shrug. “And now things are not so simple.”

It takes her a moment to answer. “No, I suppose not. But perhaps there is a way. A way for us both to have the thing we most desire.”

I hear the unspoken promise of the subject around which she dances. But I am not ready to give away my hard-found knowledge. Not until I hear what she means to say. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

She lowers her voice further. “And I’m sure you do, Lia. You wish to marry and have children, to live a quiet life with James. You must realize how impossible such a dream is with… the way things are now. With your fighting the Souls as you are.”

The frankness of her words surprises me. All at once, the mask has been lowered. She knows as much as I do, perhaps even more. It is quite obvious now, and I wonder why I thought her even a little bit oblivious to the prophecy and its workings.

In the absence of my denial, Alice continues. “If you will only fulfill your duty to Samael, you will find peace. He will leave you alone to the life that you desire. Will that not be easier for all concerned? Is there not a small part of you, the part that was born to be the Gate, that wishes it so?”

I should like to say her words are to no avail, that I am unmoved by the black promises. But it would be a lie, for part of me thrills with anticipation as she speaks of fulfilling the prophecy’s ancient promise. I want to believe it is only the part that desires to live my life with James as any girl would, but somewhere in the halls of my conscience I know it is more. It is the siren’s song of my intended role in the prophecy. It is the deepest part of me, the part I try to pretend is not there at all, the part that must fight the temptation to do just as Alice wants.

I shake my head, denying it, not wanting to betray any weakness. “No. It… it isn’t as you say.” I soften my voice, appealing to the Alice of my childhood, the Alice I love. “It is true that I want my life with James, but I will not have that life in the darkness of a world ruled by the Souls. Surely you understand this, Alice. We agree on one thing: that we should work to a common purpose, a purpose that is an easy matter to decide. You are the Guardian. It is your duty to protect the world from the Souls. And I… Well, I have a choice as well. And I’ll not aid them. I’ll not do a single thing to aid them in destroying the things, the people, I love. And is that not our common purpose? To protect Henry and Aunt Virginia, the only family we have left?”

Her face is half hidden in the shadows, but I see her hesitation at the mention of Henry and Aunt Virginia. It takes a moment for her to speak, and in that moment a lifetime of expression passes over her features. In a heartbeat, childish uncertainty gives way to resignation.

“I was not meant to be the Guardian, Lia. We both know it. It’s why I feel the way I do. Why I have known since I was a child that my duty lies with the Souls, whatever name the prophecy gives me. I… I cannot help the way I feel. The way I am.”

I shake my head, not wanting to hear her speak this way. It is harder to have this Alice speak of these things. Were it the Alice of recent days, the cold-eyed, hard-faced Alice… well, then it might be easier to discount her words.

She licks her lips, and they shine in the dark. “If we work in concert, we shall be protected, Lia. We and those we love. I can guarantee your safety. And the safety of James and Henry and Aunt Virginia. Those are the things that make the world worth living in, are they not? As long as those things remain, what does it matter who is in charge? Isn’t it worth the small sacrifice of conscience to live your life in peace?”

Something desperate has crept into her words, waking me from the silken spell of her voice. I shake my head with force, as if to push away the whispered promise that pulls me close even as I want to push it away.

“I cannot… I cannot do such a thing, Alice. I simply cannot. I cannot help the way I feel either. This is the way I am.”

I think she might be angry, but her voice is filled only with sadness. “Yes. I thought as much. I’m sorry, Lia.”

Her hand finds mine across the step, and she takes it the way she used to when we were small. It is not any bigger than mine, not really, and yet there was a time when I always felt safe with my hand in Alice’s. I don’t know why she says she is sorry, but I fear I will soon find out.

And my hand will not be safe in hers again.