Burned
Page 89
Ryodan stalks across the room, stops a few feet from her, close enough to unnerve, not so close that she won’t—if there’s as much red-blooded woman in her as I think there is—have as hard a time keeping her eyes locked on his face as I am.
Great, now I have to not look at his ass. With a distant part of my brain I admire that Jada/Dani doesn’t comment on Ryodan’s nudity, ask where his clothes are or demand he put some on. Ignoring it makes it irrelevant. No man wants his nudity to be irrelevant.
“One would think you wouldn’t bother to come looking for it, then.”
“It offends in letter only, not verse.”
“You know it has power. Over even you. Should I choose to exercise it.”
“Should you choose to exercise it, you’ll die more quickly than I currently plan.”
“You admit you’re Dani, then.”
“It would be inefficient for me to continue to deny that which we both know was once true. ‘Was once’ are the key words there. Dani is dead.”
“You’ve got that wrong. You’re the one who’s dead.”
“I’m alive. She was never as alive as me. She was in constant pain. I terminated it.”
“By terminating all emotion.”
“I feel.”
“Bullshit. The currency of life is passion, and as with any coin, it has two sides: pleasure, pain, joy, sorrow. Impossible to slip a single side of that coin into your pocket. You take all or nothing.”
She cocks her head and says coolly, “Perhaps we are alike, you and I, and I prefer my pockets empty.”
“My pockets are far from empty.”
“Says the man whose face is etched by neither laugh nor frown lines. Feeling nothing is called traveling light. It’s called freedom.”
“It’s called being dead inside. You will return her to me.”
“I won’t. She was too stupid to live.”
“Is,” he corrects. “And she’s not. She’s the one who’s smart enough to live. You merely survive.”
“One of us must. You were no help. You lost her the instant she stepped through the portal and entered Faery. You didn’t save her. She waited, thinking you were different from those who used and betrayed her. She believed you would find her, come charging to her rescue. That belief was as misplaced as the monsters we faced were deadly. The day came she finally lost her faith in you, and I was there as I’ve always been there when she needed me, and she was grateful. I saved her. Not you. You failed her. Failed as in: did not accomplish the specified, desired objective; performing inadequately or ineffectively; neglecting to honor promises, implied or contractual—”
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Like I need a fucking dictionary.”
“It would seem you do. You broke her finger that night in Chester’s. I’ve not forgotten. I forget no wrong done to her.”
“It was unintentional. Sidhe-seer or not, I’m unaccustomed to young humans. Their bones are different.”
“I’m no longer young.”
“I’m bloody fucking aware of that.”
“ ‘I’m aware’ would have sufficed. ‘Bloody fucking’ is superfluous and contributes nothing to the sentence in either connotation or denotation.”
“I’ll bloody fucking decide what’s bloody fucking superfluous.”
“You’re so … human. It’s inefficient.”
“Wrong on that score. And efficiency is no guarantee of survival. Nor is intellect. What it takes to be the last one standing is an unquenchable hunger to live. He who wants it the most wins. It takes fire, willingness to burn down to your motherfucking core.”
“You’re ice. Yet you live.”
“Not as cold as you think.”
“Omission or commission. You said you would break more bones that night.”
“A necessary threat, one I knew she wouldn’t test. I’ve rescued her in Dublin’s streets more often than you. Saved her times uncounted without her knowing. She’s not as unbreakable as she likes to believe. The day Jayne took her sword, I was there before Christian. It was I who nudged Christian in her direction.”
“You do nothing without motive.”
“She needed to see what he was becoming. Not hear it from me. She has never been unprotected, from the day I learned of her existence. First my men, then I, watched over her. But you know that. The night the gang of drunken men attacked her near Trinity, it wasn’t you who got her out of that one.”
“Only because she fought me instead of them. She should have killed them. I would have.”
“Unlike you, she prefers not to kill humans.”
“You make it sound like a virtue. Protecting those sheep. Rather you should knit sweaters from their skin and roast mutton of their flesh. Three nights ago I finished what you failed to complete those many years ago. They’re dead now.”
“There are lines. You’ve dragged her across enough. I’ll do whatever it takes to preserve what humanity she retains, and guarantee she lives long enough to master her staggering power and intellect—”
“My staggering power and intellect.”
“—while keeping you out of the driver’s seat—”
“I belong in the driver’s seat.”
“—and giving her a chance to fly.”
“They’re my wings.”
Great, now I have to not look at his ass. With a distant part of my brain I admire that Jada/Dani doesn’t comment on Ryodan’s nudity, ask where his clothes are or demand he put some on. Ignoring it makes it irrelevant. No man wants his nudity to be irrelevant.
“One would think you wouldn’t bother to come looking for it, then.”
“It offends in letter only, not verse.”
“You know it has power. Over even you. Should I choose to exercise it.”
“Should you choose to exercise it, you’ll die more quickly than I currently plan.”
“You admit you’re Dani, then.”
“It would be inefficient for me to continue to deny that which we both know was once true. ‘Was once’ are the key words there. Dani is dead.”
“You’ve got that wrong. You’re the one who’s dead.”
“I’m alive. She was never as alive as me. She was in constant pain. I terminated it.”
“By terminating all emotion.”
“I feel.”
“Bullshit. The currency of life is passion, and as with any coin, it has two sides: pleasure, pain, joy, sorrow. Impossible to slip a single side of that coin into your pocket. You take all or nothing.”
She cocks her head and says coolly, “Perhaps we are alike, you and I, and I prefer my pockets empty.”
“My pockets are far from empty.”
“Says the man whose face is etched by neither laugh nor frown lines. Feeling nothing is called traveling light. It’s called freedom.”
“It’s called being dead inside. You will return her to me.”
“I won’t. She was too stupid to live.”
“Is,” he corrects. “And she’s not. She’s the one who’s smart enough to live. You merely survive.”
“One of us must. You were no help. You lost her the instant she stepped through the portal and entered Faery. You didn’t save her. She waited, thinking you were different from those who used and betrayed her. She believed you would find her, come charging to her rescue. That belief was as misplaced as the monsters we faced were deadly. The day came she finally lost her faith in you, and I was there as I’ve always been there when she needed me, and she was grateful. I saved her. Not you. You failed her. Failed as in: did not accomplish the specified, desired objective; performing inadequately or ineffectively; neglecting to honor promises, implied or contractual—”
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Like I need a fucking dictionary.”
“It would seem you do. You broke her finger that night in Chester’s. I’ve not forgotten. I forget no wrong done to her.”
“It was unintentional. Sidhe-seer or not, I’m unaccustomed to young humans. Their bones are different.”
“I’m no longer young.”
“I’m bloody fucking aware of that.”
“ ‘I’m aware’ would have sufficed. ‘Bloody fucking’ is superfluous and contributes nothing to the sentence in either connotation or denotation.”
“I’ll bloody fucking decide what’s bloody fucking superfluous.”
“You’re so … human. It’s inefficient.”
“Wrong on that score. And efficiency is no guarantee of survival. Nor is intellect. What it takes to be the last one standing is an unquenchable hunger to live. He who wants it the most wins. It takes fire, willingness to burn down to your motherfucking core.”
“You’re ice. Yet you live.”
“Not as cold as you think.”
“Omission or commission. You said you would break more bones that night.”
“A necessary threat, one I knew she wouldn’t test. I’ve rescued her in Dublin’s streets more often than you. Saved her times uncounted without her knowing. She’s not as unbreakable as she likes to believe. The day Jayne took her sword, I was there before Christian. It was I who nudged Christian in her direction.”
“You do nothing without motive.”
“She needed to see what he was becoming. Not hear it from me. She has never been unprotected, from the day I learned of her existence. First my men, then I, watched over her. But you know that. The night the gang of drunken men attacked her near Trinity, it wasn’t you who got her out of that one.”
“Only because she fought me instead of them. She should have killed them. I would have.”
“Unlike you, she prefers not to kill humans.”
“You make it sound like a virtue. Protecting those sheep. Rather you should knit sweaters from their skin and roast mutton of their flesh. Three nights ago I finished what you failed to complete those many years ago. They’re dead now.”
“There are lines. You’ve dragged her across enough. I’ll do whatever it takes to preserve what humanity she retains, and guarantee she lives long enough to master her staggering power and intellect—”
“My staggering power and intellect.”
“—while keeping you out of the driver’s seat—”
“I belong in the driver’s seat.”
“—and giving her a chance to fly.”
“They’re my wings.”