Shadowfever
Page 139
And its not working, he said, as we stepped into the alcove of Barrons Books and Baubles. Hows this? He drew me back out into the street and cupped my head with his hands. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he tipped my head back so I was looking up.
What?
The sign.
The placard swaying on a polished brass pole read: MACKAYLAS MANUSCRIPTS AND MISCELLANY.
Are you kidding me? I exploded. Its mine? But you just said I was on my last chance with you!
You are. He released my head and moved away. It can be removed as easily as it was hung.
My sign. My bookstore. My Lamborghini? I said hopefully.
He opened the door and stepped inside. Dont push it.
What about the Viper?
Not a chance.
I moved in behind him. Fine, I could deal without the cars. For the moment. The bookstore was mine. I was feeling choked up. MINE with all capital letters, just like the sign. Barrons, I
Dont be trite. Its not you.
I was just going to thank you, I said crossly.
For what? Leaving? I changed the sign because I dont plan to be here much longer. It has nothing to do with you. What I want is nearly within reach. Good night, Ms. Lane.
He vanished out the back. I dont know what I expected.
Actually, I do. I expected him to try to get me into bed again.
Barrons has been predictable in his treatment of me since the day I met him. Initially he used references to sex to shut me up. Then he used sex to wake me up. After I was no longer Pri-ya, hed returned to using references to sex to keep me on edge. Forcing me to remember how intimate we once were.
Like everything else about him, Id begun to count on it.
Innuendo and invitation. Eternal as the rain in Dublin. I was the one the dangerous lion licked. And I liked it.
Tonight, when wed walked back to the bookstore, talking, sharing information freely, I felt something warm and new blossom between us. When hed shown me the sign, I melted.
Then hed splashed ice water on me.
For what? Leaving? I changed the sign because I dont plan to be here much longer.
Hed walked off without making innuendo or extending an invitation.
Hed just left.
Giving me a tiny taste of what it felt like. Barrons walking off, leaving me alone.
Would he really go away for good when this was done? Vanish without saying good-bye the moment he had his spell?
I trudged into my fifth-floor bedroom and threw myself across my bed. I usually pretend theres nothing strange about sometimes finding my room on the fourth floor and sometimes on the fifth. Ive become so inured to weird that the only thing that worries me much anymore is the possibility that my bedroommight one day disappear entirely. What if Im in it when it goes? Will I go, too? Or be stuck in a wall or floor as it makes its grand exit, yelling my head off? As long as its still somewhere in the store, I feel reasonably secure with my parameters. After the way my life has turned out, if it does disappear, Ill probably just sigh, gear up, and go hunting for it.
Its hard to lose the things youve come to think of as yours.
Was all this going to be over soon? Sure, wed screwed up tonight, but I wouldnt screw up next time. We were meeting at Chesters tomorrow to make a new plan. We had our team; wed keep trying. Conceivably, we could have the Sinsar Dubh stowed securely away in a matter of days.
And what would happen then?
Would Vlane and the queen and all the Seelie leave our world and go back to their court? Would they manage to get the walls back up somehow and scrape the Unseelie blight from my world?
Would Barrons and his eight close up Chesters and disappear?
What would I do, with no Vlane, no Unseelie to fight, no Barrons?
Ryodan had made it clear that no one was allowed to know about them and live. Theyd been hiding their immortal existence among us for thousands of years. Would they try to kill me? Or just leave and remove all trace of evidence that theyd ever been here?
Could I search the world over and never find any of them again? Would I age and begin to wonder if Id imagined those crazy, passionate, dark days in Dublin?
How could I age? Who would I marry? Who would ever understand me? Would I live out the rest of my life alone? Become as cantankerous and cryptic and strange as the man whod made me this way?
I began to pace.
Id been so worried about my problemswho he was, who I was, who Alinas killer wasthat Id never looked into the future and tried to project the likely outcome of events. When youre fighting every day simply for the chance to have a future, its kind of hard to get around to imagining what that future might be like. Thinking about how to live is a luxury enjoyed by people who know theyre going to live.
I didnt want to be alone in Dublin when this was all over!
What would I do? Run the bookstore, surrounded by memories for the rest of my life as those of us who remained painstakingly rebuilt the city? I couldnt stay here if he didnt. Even if he left, hed still be here, everywhere I looked. It would almost be worse than him dying. Barrons residue would stalk this place as vividly as the concubine and the king lived in the White Mansions inky corridors. Id know he was out there, forever beyond my reach. Glory days: achieved and gone by twenty-three, like a has-been high school football player sitting in his double-wide, chugging beer with his friends at thirty, two kids, a nagging wife, a family van, and a grudge against life.
What?
The sign.
The placard swaying on a polished brass pole read: MACKAYLAS MANUSCRIPTS AND MISCELLANY.
Are you kidding me? I exploded. Its mine? But you just said I was on my last chance with you!
You are. He released my head and moved away. It can be removed as easily as it was hung.
My sign. My bookstore. My Lamborghini? I said hopefully.
He opened the door and stepped inside. Dont push it.
What about the Viper?
Not a chance.
I moved in behind him. Fine, I could deal without the cars. For the moment. The bookstore was mine. I was feeling choked up. MINE with all capital letters, just like the sign. Barrons, I
Dont be trite. Its not you.
I was just going to thank you, I said crossly.
For what? Leaving? I changed the sign because I dont plan to be here much longer. It has nothing to do with you. What I want is nearly within reach. Good night, Ms. Lane.
He vanished out the back. I dont know what I expected.
Actually, I do. I expected him to try to get me into bed again.
Barrons has been predictable in his treatment of me since the day I met him. Initially he used references to sex to shut me up. Then he used sex to wake me up. After I was no longer Pri-ya, hed returned to using references to sex to keep me on edge. Forcing me to remember how intimate we once were.
Like everything else about him, Id begun to count on it.
Innuendo and invitation. Eternal as the rain in Dublin. I was the one the dangerous lion licked. And I liked it.
Tonight, when wed walked back to the bookstore, talking, sharing information freely, I felt something warm and new blossom between us. When hed shown me the sign, I melted.
Then hed splashed ice water on me.
For what? Leaving? I changed the sign because I dont plan to be here much longer.
Hed walked off without making innuendo or extending an invitation.
Hed just left.
Giving me a tiny taste of what it felt like. Barrons walking off, leaving me alone.
Would he really go away for good when this was done? Vanish without saying good-bye the moment he had his spell?
I trudged into my fifth-floor bedroom and threw myself across my bed. I usually pretend theres nothing strange about sometimes finding my room on the fourth floor and sometimes on the fifth. Ive become so inured to weird that the only thing that worries me much anymore is the possibility that my bedroommight one day disappear entirely. What if Im in it when it goes? Will I go, too? Or be stuck in a wall or floor as it makes its grand exit, yelling my head off? As long as its still somewhere in the store, I feel reasonably secure with my parameters. After the way my life has turned out, if it does disappear, Ill probably just sigh, gear up, and go hunting for it.
Its hard to lose the things youve come to think of as yours.
Was all this going to be over soon? Sure, wed screwed up tonight, but I wouldnt screw up next time. We were meeting at Chesters tomorrow to make a new plan. We had our team; wed keep trying. Conceivably, we could have the Sinsar Dubh stowed securely away in a matter of days.
And what would happen then?
Would Vlane and the queen and all the Seelie leave our world and go back to their court? Would they manage to get the walls back up somehow and scrape the Unseelie blight from my world?
Would Barrons and his eight close up Chesters and disappear?
What would I do, with no Vlane, no Unseelie to fight, no Barrons?
Ryodan had made it clear that no one was allowed to know about them and live. Theyd been hiding their immortal existence among us for thousands of years. Would they try to kill me? Or just leave and remove all trace of evidence that theyd ever been here?
Could I search the world over and never find any of them again? Would I age and begin to wonder if Id imagined those crazy, passionate, dark days in Dublin?
How could I age? Who would I marry? Who would ever understand me? Would I live out the rest of my life alone? Become as cantankerous and cryptic and strange as the man whod made me this way?
I began to pace.
Id been so worried about my problemswho he was, who I was, who Alinas killer wasthat Id never looked into the future and tried to project the likely outcome of events. When youre fighting every day simply for the chance to have a future, its kind of hard to get around to imagining what that future might be like. Thinking about how to live is a luxury enjoyed by people who know theyre going to live.
I didnt want to be alone in Dublin when this was all over!
What would I do? Run the bookstore, surrounded by memories for the rest of my life as those of us who remained painstakingly rebuilt the city? I couldnt stay here if he didnt. Even if he left, hed still be here, everywhere I looked. It would almost be worse than him dying. Barrons residue would stalk this place as vividly as the concubine and the king lived in the White Mansions inky corridors. Id know he was out there, forever beyond my reach. Glory days: achieved and gone by twenty-three, like a has-been high school football player sitting in his double-wide, chugging beer with his friends at thirty, two kids, a nagging wife, a family van, and a grudge against life.
