Stopping Time
Page 12
Like mine.
She looked out her front window again. If Irial was with Niall, that meant Niall was near. If he was near…She pushed the thought away. Him, she could speak to. Not that I should. With Irial, she had difficulty not simply throwing herself into his arms and letting go. She let herself be near him, but they didn’t speak. Talking to Irial would be the first step in not-talking, and mortals who lay down with Gancanaghs became addicted. Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t remove the temptation. Knowing didn’t help her forget how much pleasure she’d felt when he held her. Her relationship with Niall, on the other hand, had never reached that place, so…
Who am I kidding? She snorted at the rationalization she was indulging in: she shouldn’t be alone with either of them. It was why she didn’t talk to Irial. It was why she didn’t accept five out of six of Niall’s calls.
The buzzer for the downstairs door rang. She pushed the speaker on, knowing full well who was there.
“Leslie?”
For a moment, she couldn’t speak, but then she asked, “Are you alone?”
“Right now, I am…. Can I come up?”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Can you come down?”
“I shouldn’t either.” She’d already had her shoes on, though, and she grabbed her keys from the hook by the door.
She saw him watching her through the front door of the building as she came down the stairs. It wasn’t like seeing Irial, not now, not ever. With Irial, she was sure; they knew each other intimately. With Niall, she was still nervous; they’d never moved beyond kisses and what-ifs.
She opened the door—and paused. The awkwardness, the urge to touch and not-touch, the where-does-one-go-now wasn’t something they’d figured out. They both froze, and the moment of greeting passed. Then, it was too late to touch without being more awkward.
He stepped to the side, but reflexively offered her his elbow. It was basic civility for him, but he caught himself as soon as he did it. She could see his doubts, his fear that he’d crossed a line already.
Leslie slid her hand into the crook of his arm. “Should I pretend to be surprised?”
He smiled, and all of the tension fled. “Harbingers of my visit or just the fact that I was in town?”
“Did Gabe send for you?” She didn’t look around them. “Someone…else?”
“Why didn’t you tell me he visits?” Niall’s tone was more curious than hurt as he asked.
“Because I want you two to get along,” she admitted. “I want…I don’t know…I just like the idea that you are at peace with one another. That you can be there for each other.”
Niall gave her a curious look.
“What?”
He shook his head. “I’d move the court here if it made you come back to…either of us.”
“I know.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “And if he thought it would work, he’d be trying to manipulate you to do so. Sometimes I think he wants me in your life more than in his.”
Niall paused. “You’d be in both of our lives if—”
“I can’t.” Leslie’s voice wavered embarrassingly.
“So…”
She leaned in and kissed him. “So we take tonight for what it is, and then you return to our court, to him. You need him in your life. I can’t live my life in the Dark Court. That’s not where I belong.”
“Maybe there will be someone else who can be king.” He stroked her hair.
“How long was Iri the Dark King?” Leslie kissed his throat. “You know better.”
“I want to tell you to be with him,” Niall whispered. “He could keep you safe and you’d be away from the court…and maybe someday…”
“You need him with you, and I don’t want to be addicted to anyone.” Leslie wrapped her arms around him, leaned closer into his embrace. “Sometimes things simply aren’t meant to be. I’m not able to live in the Dark Court. I’d lose myself if I lived there. You might not see that, but I know myself.”
He pulled back and stared into her eyes. “What if—”
“If I thought I could live there, I would,” she interrupted. “Being there with both of you…it’s tempting. More so than I want to admit. I want to ignore the things that happen in the court, not be changed by what I remember. People die. Mortals were killed for sport. Violence is play. Excess is normalcy. I can’t live in that without changing in ways I don’t want to.”
Leslie felt relief at having this conversation finally. She’d expected that she’d be embarrassed by the admission that it wasn’t simple horror that stopped her. That she knew Niall would accept, expect even, but her real reason was less honorable. She could accept the cruelty and excess of the Dark Court, and that terrified her.
Niall frowned. “I wish I could lie to you. I want to tell you that none of the horrible things happen anymore.”
“They do. If you aren’t doing the worst of them, he is. Don’t think that he’s changed. He’d do anything to protect you…including protecting you from yourself.” Leslie kept her voice gentle. She knew that there was one time when Irial hadn’t been able to protect Niall, but it wasn’t something any of them discussed. “He will do whatever it takes to keep you happy, so if you aren’t able to do…” Her words faded as Niall looked away.
She looked out her front window again. If Irial was with Niall, that meant Niall was near. If he was near…She pushed the thought away. Him, she could speak to. Not that I should. With Irial, she had difficulty not simply throwing herself into his arms and letting go. She let herself be near him, but they didn’t speak. Talking to Irial would be the first step in not-talking, and mortals who lay down with Gancanaghs became addicted. Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t remove the temptation. Knowing didn’t help her forget how much pleasure she’d felt when he held her. Her relationship with Niall, on the other hand, had never reached that place, so…
Who am I kidding? She snorted at the rationalization she was indulging in: she shouldn’t be alone with either of them. It was why she didn’t talk to Irial. It was why she didn’t accept five out of six of Niall’s calls.
The buzzer for the downstairs door rang. She pushed the speaker on, knowing full well who was there.
“Leslie?”
For a moment, she couldn’t speak, but then she asked, “Are you alone?”
“Right now, I am…. Can I come up?”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Can you come down?”
“I shouldn’t either.” She’d already had her shoes on, though, and she grabbed her keys from the hook by the door.
She saw him watching her through the front door of the building as she came down the stairs. It wasn’t like seeing Irial, not now, not ever. With Irial, she was sure; they knew each other intimately. With Niall, she was still nervous; they’d never moved beyond kisses and what-ifs.
She opened the door—and paused. The awkwardness, the urge to touch and not-touch, the where-does-one-go-now wasn’t something they’d figured out. They both froze, and the moment of greeting passed. Then, it was too late to touch without being more awkward.
He stepped to the side, but reflexively offered her his elbow. It was basic civility for him, but he caught himself as soon as he did it. She could see his doubts, his fear that he’d crossed a line already.
Leslie slid her hand into the crook of his arm. “Should I pretend to be surprised?”
He smiled, and all of the tension fled. “Harbingers of my visit or just the fact that I was in town?”
“Did Gabe send for you?” She didn’t look around them. “Someone…else?”
“Why didn’t you tell me he visits?” Niall’s tone was more curious than hurt as he asked.
“Because I want you two to get along,” she admitted. “I want…I don’t know…I just like the idea that you are at peace with one another. That you can be there for each other.”
Niall gave her a curious look.
“What?”
He shook his head. “I’d move the court here if it made you come back to…either of us.”
“I know.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “And if he thought it would work, he’d be trying to manipulate you to do so. Sometimes I think he wants me in your life more than in his.”
Niall paused. “You’d be in both of our lives if—”
“I can’t.” Leslie’s voice wavered embarrassingly.
“So…”
She leaned in and kissed him. “So we take tonight for what it is, and then you return to our court, to him. You need him in your life. I can’t live my life in the Dark Court. That’s not where I belong.”
“Maybe there will be someone else who can be king.” He stroked her hair.
“How long was Iri the Dark King?” Leslie kissed his throat. “You know better.”
“I want to tell you to be with him,” Niall whispered. “He could keep you safe and you’d be away from the court…and maybe someday…”
“You need him with you, and I don’t want to be addicted to anyone.” Leslie wrapped her arms around him, leaned closer into his embrace. “Sometimes things simply aren’t meant to be. I’m not able to live in the Dark Court. I’d lose myself if I lived there. You might not see that, but I know myself.”
He pulled back and stared into her eyes. “What if—”
“If I thought I could live there, I would,” she interrupted. “Being there with both of you…it’s tempting. More so than I want to admit. I want to ignore the things that happen in the court, not be changed by what I remember. People die. Mortals were killed for sport. Violence is play. Excess is normalcy. I can’t live in that without changing in ways I don’t want to.”
Leslie felt relief at having this conversation finally. She’d expected that she’d be embarrassed by the admission that it wasn’t simple horror that stopped her. That she knew Niall would accept, expect even, but her real reason was less honorable. She could accept the cruelty and excess of the Dark Court, and that terrified her.
Niall frowned. “I wish I could lie to you. I want to tell you that none of the horrible things happen anymore.”
“They do. If you aren’t doing the worst of them, he is. Don’t think that he’s changed. He’d do anything to protect you…including protecting you from yourself.” Leslie kept her voice gentle. She knew that there was one time when Irial hadn’t been able to protect Niall, but it wasn’t something any of them discussed. “He will do whatever it takes to keep you happy, so if you aren’t able to do…” Her words faded as Niall looked away.
