Chaos Choreography
Page 58
“Ew! Grandma, ew! Don’t say things like that! How can you say things like that with your face? Your actual grandma face? You’re supposed to be all innocent and baking cookies and forgetting that sex was ever a part of your life.”
Alice snorted. “Sweetie, if that’s what you think, old age is going to be a series of small miracles for you.”
“Like you’d know what old age was like? The oldest I’ve ever seen you look was thirty.”
Alice’s expression turned wistful. “That was a good run,” she said.
We’d been climbing as we talked, and were almost to the room where Dominic was waiting to meet us. I saw the chance to solve one of the great family mysteries within my grasp—how did Grandma Alice keep slipping backward in physical age?—but decided, regretfully, that this wasn’t the right time. We had more important things to take care of.
“Yeah, well, Dominic and I are hoping for a good run, so please don’t punch my husband, okay? He’s a good guy.”
“I wouldn’t,” said Alice, sounding offended. “I trust your taste in men.”
“You, and absolutely nobody else.” I knocked twice, paused, and knocked twice more.
There was a clatter from inside as Dominic undid the chain. The door swung open and there he was, expression blank as he studied us.
Alice, for her part, studied him right back. She didn’t even pretend to be subtle about it: she just stared, looking him up and down with bald frankness. Finally she grinned and said, “It’s nice to meet you. You’re my first grandson-in-law. I’ll be honest, none of us expected Verity to win that particular race.”
“Hey!” I squawked.
Dominic nodded gravely. “I am Dominic Price, born Dominic De Luca. You are Alice Price-Healy, daughter and wife to traitors.”
“In the flesh,” said Alice.
“It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am.” Then, to my surprise, Dominic bowed.
Alice grinned. “Oh, I like him. I like you, Dominic. Did the Covenant send you to infiltrate our family so you could kill us off once and for all?”
“No, although I’m sure they would have if it had occurred to them,” said Dominic, straightening up. “You are the last of our great deceivers, after all, and your death would mean much to those who keep the historical records. Alas, the people in charge are nowhere near that creative. I’m afraid I married your granddaughter because I was in love with her, and because she said yes when I asked her if she would. Between the two, it seemed rude to refuse.”
“Fair enough,” said Alice. Her levity faded. “It seems like we have a lot to talk about. Can we come in?”
“Please,” said Dominic, and stepped aside.
We went in.
Dominic closed the door behind us.
Ten
“My mama left me when I was too young to be without her, and I always swore I would do better than she did. Turns out the only thing I was better at was leaving.”
—Alice Healy
The Crier Theater, the next morning, after a lot of coffee
BY THE TIME THE CLOCK STRUCK TWO and I asked Alice to take me back to the apartments, we had what seemed like a halfway viable plan. Dominic would stop patrolling and lurk around the theater during rehearsal instead, watching for signs of suspicious activity, while Alice took over canvasing the city. She knew more about snake cults than he did, and would have a better chance of seeing something. The rest of the mice would come back to the apartments with us, where they could keep an eye on both available priestesses. And I would dance.
It seemed like a small contribution in the face of things. Dominic was risking arrest if someone decided he was trespassing or loitering. Alice was risking all sorts of things involving knives and shouting, since snake cults don’t take kindly to being spied on. Whereas I was just risking a sprained ankle and a few pulled muscles.
Dominic walked us to the door, Alice chatting merrily away to the rapt mice that filled her pockets and covered her shoulders. He snagged my arm before I could step into the hall, turning me to face him.
“Be careful,” he said, in a low voice.
“Not my style,” I said, and kissed him, long and slow and languid, like we didn’t have an audience, like I wasn’t about to walk away.
When we broke it off, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. “Incorrigible,” he said, and shut the door between us. That was probably a good thing. It was the only way to keep me from telling Alice I was going to make my own way home before I jumped his bones, and I needed to get some sleep.
Alice snorted. “Sweetie, if that’s what you think, old age is going to be a series of small miracles for you.”
“Like you’d know what old age was like? The oldest I’ve ever seen you look was thirty.”
Alice’s expression turned wistful. “That was a good run,” she said.
We’d been climbing as we talked, and were almost to the room where Dominic was waiting to meet us. I saw the chance to solve one of the great family mysteries within my grasp—how did Grandma Alice keep slipping backward in physical age?—but decided, regretfully, that this wasn’t the right time. We had more important things to take care of.
“Yeah, well, Dominic and I are hoping for a good run, so please don’t punch my husband, okay? He’s a good guy.”
“I wouldn’t,” said Alice, sounding offended. “I trust your taste in men.”
“You, and absolutely nobody else.” I knocked twice, paused, and knocked twice more.
There was a clatter from inside as Dominic undid the chain. The door swung open and there he was, expression blank as he studied us.
Alice, for her part, studied him right back. She didn’t even pretend to be subtle about it: she just stared, looking him up and down with bald frankness. Finally she grinned and said, “It’s nice to meet you. You’re my first grandson-in-law. I’ll be honest, none of us expected Verity to win that particular race.”
“Hey!” I squawked.
Dominic nodded gravely. “I am Dominic Price, born Dominic De Luca. You are Alice Price-Healy, daughter and wife to traitors.”
“In the flesh,” said Alice.
“It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am.” Then, to my surprise, Dominic bowed.
Alice grinned. “Oh, I like him. I like you, Dominic. Did the Covenant send you to infiltrate our family so you could kill us off once and for all?”
“No, although I’m sure they would have if it had occurred to them,” said Dominic, straightening up. “You are the last of our great deceivers, after all, and your death would mean much to those who keep the historical records. Alas, the people in charge are nowhere near that creative. I’m afraid I married your granddaughter because I was in love with her, and because she said yes when I asked her if she would. Between the two, it seemed rude to refuse.”
“Fair enough,” said Alice. Her levity faded. “It seems like we have a lot to talk about. Can we come in?”
“Please,” said Dominic, and stepped aside.
We went in.
Dominic closed the door behind us.
Ten
“My mama left me when I was too young to be without her, and I always swore I would do better than she did. Turns out the only thing I was better at was leaving.”
—Alice Healy
The Crier Theater, the next morning, after a lot of coffee
BY THE TIME THE CLOCK STRUCK TWO and I asked Alice to take me back to the apartments, we had what seemed like a halfway viable plan. Dominic would stop patrolling and lurk around the theater during rehearsal instead, watching for signs of suspicious activity, while Alice took over canvasing the city. She knew more about snake cults than he did, and would have a better chance of seeing something. The rest of the mice would come back to the apartments with us, where they could keep an eye on both available priestesses. And I would dance.
It seemed like a small contribution in the face of things. Dominic was risking arrest if someone decided he was trespassing or loitering. Alice was risking all sorts of things involving knives and shouting, since snake cults don’t take kindly to being spied on. Whereas I was just risking a sprained ankle and a few pulled muscles.
Dominic walked us to the door, Alice chatting merrily away to the rapt mice that filled her pockets and covered her shoulders. He snagged my arm before I could step into the hall, turning me to face him.
“Be careful,” he said, in a low voice.
“Not my style,” I said, and kissed him, long and slow and languid, like we didn’t have an audience, like I wasn’t about to walk away.
When we broke it off, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. “Incorrigible,” he said, and shut the door between us. That was probably a good thing. It was the only way to keep me from telling Alice I was going to make my own way home before I jumped his bones, and I needed to get some sleep.
