Late Eclipses
Page 2
May eyed the Pop-Tarts as she returned with the bread. “Do we really need those?”
“They’re part of a balanced breakfast.”
“In what reality?”
“Mine.” I grabbed another box of Pop-Tarts. “Danny, we got everything?”
“We do,” he said, and lifted the three industrial-sized bags of cat litter from the floor, hoisting them with ease. “Let’s get out of here.”
“That assumes we can get somebody to ring us up.” I started pushing the cart forward. “We could be reduced to shoplifting if my former coworkers stay in hiding.”
“That’s our girl.” Danny patted my shoulder with one huge hand, nearly knocking me off my feet. “Making friends wherever she goes.”
“Something like that,” I muttered.
May can be as susceptible to colorful displays as any six-year-old; she tossed five candy bars into the cart while we waited in the checkout lane. I raised an eyebrow. “Do you need that much chocolate?”
“You get to criticize the amount of chocolate I eat when I get to criticize the amount of coffee you drink.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Low blow.”
“Yet so well aimed.”
The door to the employee break room opened, and Pete—the night manager and my former boss—started toward us, expression suggesting that he’d just bitten into something sour. He usually looked like that when he had to interact with customers. That the customers included me was just a bonus.
“October,” he said. He had the decency to try sounding surprised. He just lacked the acting skill to pull it off. He glanced at May and Danny, eyebrows rising in much more realistic confusion. Whoever warned the staff that I was in the store hadn’t bothered to pass along the fact that I was traveling with my identical twin.
“Pete,” I replied. “Busy night?”
His cheeks reddened. “Inventory.”
Inventory would mean more staffers in the store, not fewer. I didn’t call him on it. “Right. Well, this is my friend Danny,” Danny nodded, his sheer size making the gesture intimidating, “and my sister, May.”
“Hi!” May grinned, rocking back on her heels. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for being so awesome to Tobes when she worked here.”
“Uh,” said Pete. “Right.”
I couldn’t blame him. Meeting May has that effect on people, especially the ones who’ve known me for any length of time. She looks almost exactly like me, and people don’t expect that level of pep to come out of my mouth. She’s taken steps to distinguish herself from me, piercing her ears six times and getting a feathered bob before streaking her ashy brown hair with magenta and electric blue, but the underlying bone structure has stayed the same.
Pete rang up the groceries on a sort of swift autopilot, bagging them himself when no one came out to help him. He didn’t try to make conversation. In a rare display of mercy, May didn’t try to force him.
The total was over three hundred dollars: painful, but not unexpected, considering that we’d been down to ramen noodles and mystery cans from the back of the cupboard. I paid cash. Pete frowned but didn’t comment. Sometimes it’s better not to know.
“Nice to see you again, Pete,” I said, starting to push the cart forward. Danny and May followed, both keeping quiet for once.
We’d almost reached the door when Pete called, hesitantly, “Are things ... you were pretty miserable when you were here. Are things better now?”
I looked back over my shoulder, breaking into a wide, honest smile as I said, “Things are wonderful.”
Pete nodded. I nodded back, and we left the store without another word.
We were trying to fit everything into the car when May stiffened, eyes narrowing. “Someone’s coming.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Someone’s coming,” she repeated. “From . . .” She turned to scan the shadows edging the parking lot before raising an arm and jabbing her forefinger decisively toward the spot where the building gave way to the surrounding bushes. “Over there.”
“Danny?” I put down the bag I was holding, reaching for the silver knife belted at my left hip. I keep the iron on the right, for emergencies that don’t let me play nice. I have that sort of emergency way more often than I’d like.
“Got it.” His human disguise crackled around him as he took a step forward, blurring to show the true slate color of his craggy skin. He curled his hands into fists. One punch from him would stand a good shot at stopping a freight train.
Neither of us questioned May’s conviction that we were about to have a visitor. The normally transitory nature of Fetches means no one really knows what they’re capable of. Every day with her is a whole new adventure.
The source of all that new adventure was shifting uneasily from foot to foot, eyeing the shadows she’d indicated. “I’m feeling a little unarmed here.”
“Get in the car, May,” I said.
“We sure this is somebody unfriendly?” Danny asked.
“If they were friendly, I wouldn’t know they were there,” May said.
Another bit of trivia for the growing compendium of Fetch abilities: she does laundry and she detects hostile guests. “Charming,” I muttered, and inhaled deeply, the copper and cut grass smell of my magic rising around me.
My mother was the most skilled blood-worker in Faerie, before she went crazy. I’m not in her league, but I’m good enough to roll the air over my tongue and feel for the fae heritage of the people around me. May’s magic tasted like cotton candy and ashes, and her blood was pure Fetch. Danny was the heavy stability of granite, Bridge Troll through and through. Fetch, Bridge Troll, and changeling. What else? I pressed further, feeling the first warning tinge of a migraine in my temples. Changelings have limits. Some of us more than others.
“Toby—” began Danny.
“Wait.” I almost had it. The trace was slippery, probably because the person was invisible, but it was there. I grabbed for it, pushing as hard as I could . . . and caught it.
For a moment, I was too surprised to make sense of what I tasted. Part of me hadn’t expected that little trick to work. Then I swallowed, focusing on the point where the blood seemed strongest, and said, “We know you’re there. I didn’t think the Daoine Sidhe were into sneaking up on people.”
“They’re part of a balanced breakfast.”
“In what reality?”
“Mine.” I grabbed another box of Pop-Tarts. “Danny, we got everything?”
“We do,” he said, and lifted the three industrial-sized bags of cat litter from the floor, hoisting them with ease. “Let’s get out of here.”
“That assumes we can get somebody to ring us up.” I started pushing the cart forward. “We could be reduced to shoplifting if my former coworkers stay in hiding.”
“That’s our girl.” Danny patted my shoulder with one huge hand, nearly knocking me off my feet. “Making friends wherever she goes.”
“Something like that,” I muttered.
May can be as susceptible to colorful displays as any six-year-old; she tossed five candy bars into the cart while we waited in the checkout lane. I raised an eyebrow. “Do you need that much chocolate?”
“You get to criticize the amount of chocolate I eat when I get to criticize the amount of coffee you drink.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Low blow.”
“Yet so well aimed.”
The door to the employee break room opened, and Pete—the night manager and my former boss—started toward us, expression suggesting that he’d just bitten into something sour. He usually looked like that when he had to interact with customers. That the customers included me was just a bonus.
“October,” he said. He had the decency to try sounding surprised. He just lacked the acting skill to pull it off. He glanced at May and Danny, eyebrows rising in much more realistic confusion. Whoever warned the staff that I was in the store hadn’t bothered to pass along the fact that I was traveling with my identical twin.
“Pete,” I replied. “Busy night?”
His cheeks reddened. “Inventory.”
Inventory would mean more staffers in the store, not fewer. I didn’t call him on it. “Right. Well, this is my friend Danny,” Danny nodded, his sheer size making the gesture intimidating, “and my sister, May.”
“Hi!” May grinned, rocking back on her heels. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for being so awesome to Tobes when she worked here.”
“Uh,” said Pete. “Right.”
I couldn’t blame him. Meeting May has that effect on people, especially the ones who’ve known me for any length of time. She looks almost exactly like me, and people don’t expect that level of pep to come out of my mouth. She’s taken steps to distinguish herself from me, piercing her ears six times and getting a feathered bob before streaking her ashy brown hair with magenta and electric blue, but the underlying bone structure has stayed the same.
Pete rang up the groceries on a sort of swift autopilot, bagging them himself when no one came out to help him. He didn’t try to make conversation. In a rare display of mercy, May didn’t try to force him.
The total was over three hundred dollars: painful, but not unexpected, considering that we’d been down to ramen noodles and mystery cans from the back of the cupboard. I paid cash. Pete frowned but didn’t comment. Sometimes it’s better not to know.
“Nice to see you again, Pete,” I said, starting to push the cart forward. Danny and May followed, both keeping quiet for once.
We’d almost reached the door when Pete called, hesitantly, “Are things ... you were pretty miserable when you were here. Are things better now?”
I looked back over my shoulder, breaking into a wide, honest smile as I said, “Things are wonderful.”
Pete nodded. I nodded back, and we left the store without another word.
We were trying to fit everything into the car when May stiffened, eyes narrowing. “Someone’s coming.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Someone’s coming,” she repeated. “From . . .” She turned to scan the shadows edging the parking lot before raising an arm and jabbing her forefinger decisively toward the spot where the building gave way to the surrounding bushes. “Over there.”
“Danny?” I put down the bag I was holding, reaching for the silver knife belted at my left hip. I keep the iron on the right, for emergencies that don’t let me play nice. I have that sort of emergency way more often than I’d like.
“Got it.” His human disguise crackled around him as he took a step forward, blurring to show the true slate color of his craggy skin. He curled his hands into fists. One punch from him would stand a good shot at stopping a freight train.
Neither of us questioned May’s conviction that we were about to have a visitor. The normally transitory nature of Fetches means no one really knows what they’re capable of. Every day with her is a whole new adventure.
The source of all that new adventure was shifting uneasily from foot to foot, eyeing the shadows she’d indicated. “I’m feeling a little unarmed here.”
“Get in the car, May,” I said.
“We sure this is somebody unfriendly?” Danny asked.
“If they were friendly, I wouldn’t know they were there,” May said.
Another bit of trivia for the growing compendium of Fetch abilities: she does laundry and she detects hostile guests. “Charming,” I muttered, and inhaled deeply, the copper and cut grass smell of my magic rising around me.
My mother was the most skilled blood-worker in Faerie, before she went crazy. I’m not in her league, but I’m good enough to roll the air over my tongue and feel for the fae heritage of the people around me. May’s magic tasted like cotton candy and ashes, and her blood was pure Fetch. Danny was the heavy stability of granite, Bridge Troll through and through. Fetch, Bridge Troll, and changeling. What else? I pressed further, feeling the first warning tinge of a migraine in my temples. Changelings have limits. Some of us more than others.
“Toby—” began Danny.
“Wait.” I almost had it. The trace was slippery, probably because the person was invisible, but it was there. I grabbed for it, pushing as hard as I could . . . and caught it.
For a moment, I was too surprised to make sense of what I tasted. Part of me hadn’t expected that little trick to work. Then I swallowed, focusing on the point where the blood seemed strongest, and said, “We know you’re there. I didn’t think the Daoine Sidhe were into sneaking up on people.”
