by Laney McMann
I rolled onto my side, resting my hand on his cheek, directing his focus on me. “I don’t want you to say that. We can figure this out. Like you said before, we’re the Fire Born. We can defeat the Fomore and break the curse.”
He averted his eyes. “I don’t even know what that means, anymore.” Looking exhausted, he sat up. “I’ll go patch the roof.”
I laid a hand against his chest, gently pushing him back down. “Stay. It’s not raining now. Doubt my mom will notice the problem, anyway. And if she does, I’ll just say it was a storm—side effect of living on the ocean.”
“I am the storm, Layla,” he said under his breath. “I should go.”
I propped myself up on my elbow next to him and held out my wrist. “I found this on the beach.” I unwrapped his bracelet from around my wrist.
The edge of his mouth curled up. “I thought I lost it.”
“You did. My father told me not to lose you. I don’t plan to again.”
I slid the leather strip around his wrist. “He told you to protect me.” Entwining our fingers, I said, “You can’t do that if we’re not together.”
A painful expression creased the line between his clear grey eyes. “Lay …”
“Don’t go.”
He squeezed my hand in his and leaned over, his lips inches from mine. “You have no idea how much I love you. How far I would go to protect you.” His mouth grazed my bottom lip. “No possible idea.”
21
Max
“Come to say your last farewell?” Justice didn’t stand up as I entered the busy pool hall, but stayed hunched over a table, stick in hand.
I sat down on a barstool. “Something like that.”
“You can save your goodbyes.” He hit the balls at the far end of the pool table with an ear-splitting crack. “I don’t get you, man. You just … left? While she’s asleep? With no protection?”
“The boundaries around her house are sound. Elethan wants me, anyway.”
“Protecting Layla forever, and … poof.” Justice snapped his fingers.
“I asked you to meet me here, not lecture me. And it’s not like that.”
“What is it like, then?” He removed another of the pool sticks hanging on racks on the wall behind us, and rolled it between his fingers like he could tell which one was the best. “’Cause it sounds like you just threw your girlfriend away for your dad. Who, by the way, is a psychopath.”
Walking to the far end of the table, I racked the pool balls, hoping he’d shut up. “I’m protecting her from him by staying away. That’s the whole point.”
“So, let me get this straight. You’re just going to cut ties with Layla, with all of us?” He shook his head. “You know that’ll never work, right? You may be able to shut me and Tristan out, but you won’t be able to stay away from Layla.”
“I don’t have a choice.” I wondered how mad he’d get if I threw one of the balls at him. “Why are we talking about this?”
He shrugged. “Because you’re ditching us. And you look like hell.”
“We can’t all be as handsome as you.” I grabbed a stick.
He rolled his eyes. “Just take your shot.”
I struck the Q-ball and scratched.
Justice laughed and hit the seven of stripes. It rolled into the middle right pocket. “You’re solids.”
I scratched again.
“Damn, you never suck at pool.”
I slumped back down on a barstool.
“Look,” Justice said. “Eventually she’ll move on—you’ll move on. That’s how it works, right? That’s the whole point, isn’t it? To give Layla her life back?”
“I don’t want to move on.” I barely said it out loud.
“Then why in the hell did you leave?” For once, Justice didn’t sound sarcastic or arrogant, but concerned.
“You know why.” I chunked my pool stick onto the table. “You think I like what I’m doing to her? Doing to myself? It feels like I’m dying. Like part of me is being ripped out.”
“Then sew it back up.” He shook his head. “This whole thing is evil and twisted, and I don’t need to tell you that. You know it.” He pointed at me. “I don’t give a damn if you’re one of the Fomore. No one does. You weren’t raised by them. And since when did you heed enemy rule? Father or no father, the whole situation reeks. Is it worth it?”
“Protecting Layla is worth my life.” I stood up. “And if I can pay for her safety by being miserable every single day for the rest of it, I’ll take it.” I threw a twenty dollar bill on the table. “I gotta go.”
“Wait a sec.” He started after me, trying to jam his pool stick back into the rack.
“Keep an eye on Layla for me.” I pushed the doors open too hard, and they banged off the brick facade of the building.
“Hey! Watch it!” The bartender’s voice shrilled over the music.
“Sorry!” Justice shouted. “He’s a little upset. Max, hang on a minute.” He caught up to me on the sidewalk. “Why are you doing this? Punishing yourself like this? Why aren’t you fighting?”
Warm humid air filled my lungs outside the pool hall. “Because it’s my fault!” I sank back against the brick wall. “I’m the reason she’s in danger. I can’t ask her to fight for me. To risk her life again! If I would have just left her alone, none of this would’ve happened.”
“You’re serious?” His eyes widened. “We are talking about the same girl, right? Layla.You’ve met her a few times. Impatient. Pissed off all the time. You think she doesn’t want to fight for you? Are you forgetting who she is?”
“Níl aon ghrá sin gan pian.”
“Ah, come on—you know I don’t know what that means. I don’t speak Irish.”
“I know.” I crossed my arms, staring up at the squally black sky.
“Listen, we’ve known each other for a really long time, and I’ll tell you right now, if you think you can leave Layla alone, you’re lying to yourself.”
I pushed off the wall. “I’m out.”
“You know I’m right,” he shouted after me.
“There is no love without pain,” I shouted. “That’s what it means.”
“Real positive thinking you’ve got! Do you think walking away will break the curse? Joining up with the Fomore? Is that it? Because you know otherwise.”
Do I? “Don’t tell Layla I’m still here.”
“Don’t—don’t tell her you’re still in town? You’re playing with fire, Max. Literally.”
I turned, walking backward. “Just stay close to her for a few days until I figure this out, all right? I don’t need a lecture.”
“Historia is a small town.” He shook his head. “And Layla … she isn’t well. Like, seriously, something’s wrong with her.”
I stopped. “What d’you mean, something’s wrong with her?”
“I told you that a few hours ago. When you showed up from the land of demons … all battered and bruised.”
“Well, tell me again.”
“I don’t know. All you have to do is look at her. She’s lost weight. Her hair is like … dull, I guess, and her eyes—I swear the color isn’t the same as it used to be.”
“That’s a pretty descriptive picture of my girlfriend.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I asked you to guard her, not hang out with her enough that you’re noticing her eye color.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? I’m not checking her damn eyes out. Maybe you’re the one I should be worried about.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You look and sound as bad as she does. Listen to yourself. No one is hitting on Layla—least of all, me.”
“Keep it that way.” I turned back around.
“Whatever, dude. I won’t tell Layla you’re avoiding her.”
“Good.”
“Wait, there’s something else. Will you wait a minute?”
I kept walking.
“Maybe it’s not just Elethan I’m worried about. With you leaving Layla
alone tonight, I mean.”
I stopped again but didn’t turn back.
“I saw Ryan.”
“And?” I turned around.
“And he looks bad. Real bad. The situation is worse than we thought. He’s holding his ground.”
“He’s crazy.” I exhaled and turned to leave. “They’re all crazy.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Don’t know that it really matters. If he believes what he’s saying, we need to be prepared.”
“I’ll keep that under advisement.”
“Hey, I thought we were getting something to eat. You know, food?”
“Not hungry.”
“You should still eat. You’re like—grey!”
“I have a stomach bug.”
“You never told me. How’d you find us before? At Layla’s?”
I could find Layla anywhere. “Protect the perimeters please.”
“Max—hang on. Seriously. Let’s talk about this.”
I turned the corner, away from him.
22
The streets were lined with the usual partygoers, despite the light drizzle dusting everything in sight. I could’ve stopped the rain—if I’d wanted to. I thought about traversing to my grandmother’s house, but walking gave me the illusion that I was doing something useful. Plus, it helped burn off the anger, and the constant nagging pull, weighing me down. I couldn’t bear to think about Layla, and at the same time, she was all I thought about. Worse, I knew the longer I stayed in Historia, the more I’d be risking her safety, but as I wandered the downtown streets, I couldn’t make myself leave.
After I lay staring at her sleeping in her bedroom, unable to move, I’d left and went back to my destroyed house, both shocked and thankful my bedroom was still usable. It had only been a little over a week since the Fomore had issued the attack and retrieved me to the Shadow Realm, but it felt more like years.
Without thinking, I took the long way toward my grandmother’s house, cutting behind the pool hall and onto the backstreet that connected to the road in front of The Pub. The drizzle turned to rain, and I picked up my pace across the crowded parking lot—the same lot Layla had been attacked in only a few weeks back. Before she knew who she was. Before she remembered I wasn’t just some guy she’d made up in her dreams. Shaking my head at the thought, I continued weaving down the packed sidewalk, through all the college kids lining the entrances to the bars and clubs up and down the road. As I pushed past a clump of people, someone screamed.
I stopped walking. Everyone did.
“What is that?” someone yelled.
Another scream, and a stampede of people ran toward me. Girls in short skirts and fake, painted nails took off down the sidewalk like a heard of flamingos, their too-high spiked heels tripping them up.
“Something’s down there,” one of them said. “In the alley. I saw it.”
Filing past me, crowds of people skirted the alleyway that separated the two popular clubs, and hurried off in different directions, talking in rapid-fire.
“You know it’s haunted downtown. Everyone says that. Just look at the old Theatre. I think things live up there on the roof. I’ve seen stuff moving,” someone said.
“No, you haven’t.”
“Yes, I have,” a girl insisted. “That’s why it’s not open at night anymore. Because of all the ghost sightings.”
“Ghost sightings? You watch too much of the SyFy channel.”
People continued shuffling by, and I went the other way—against their tide, and down the alley.
A figure stood hunched over one of the trash cans in the back corner of the dead-ended passageway, only a shadow in the dark, hurling up their dinner, or sounding like it.
I took a few steps forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the guy’s face. “You all right?”
“Fine. Get away from me. Go run off with the rest of your friends.”
“They aren’t my friends. Sure you’re okay?”
“I said get out of here!” He choked, coughing something up over the trash can.
“Ryan?” I took a step back.
The guy turned toward me. His face was the color of white marble, and although he was in his human state, his gargoyle horns protruded through his scalp as if he hadn’t transformed properly. Streaks of blood marked his cheeks and neck, and as he stared through crossed steel blue eyes, he swayed where he stood.
“Well, look who it is. Got rescued, did you?” A twisted grin graced his mouth, and he fell backward into the stack of metal trashcans.
I moved forward and reached out a hand.
“I don’t need your help.” He pushed it away. “None of us need your help. Go on. Get outta here. I’m fine, I said.”
“You’re lying on your back in an alley in the middle of the night.” I doubted he could see the smirk on my face.
He sat up and swayed again. “What do you care?”
“I just do.” Moving closer, I pulled him to his feet.
“I said, I’m fine!” He swung his right arm, and his fist connected with my jaw. Another jab to my ribs, and my hand closed around his fist. He yanked back, and swung with his other arm, but missed me, unbalanced, as I continued to hold his right hand in place. “Let me go,” he said, his words coming out as a growl.
“Not ‘til you let me help.” I licked my lip, and tasted blood on my tongue—a metallic tang I’d gotten somewhat used to.
Ryan’s eyes shifted from side to side in their sockets, and he let out a defeated breath. “I don’t want your help. Not anymore.”
I let go of his hand and rubbed my jaw, working it back and forth. “You see Grandma Mac, lately?”
He put his arm out and steadied himself against the brick wall. “No. Nothing anyone can do.”
“I thought the treatment was helping?”
“I don’t need your handouts.” He edged along the wall.
“I’m headed that way … to her house. Why don’t you come? Eat something. Tristan’s there.”
He stared through glazed, bloodshot eyes. “You and me … we’re not friends. Got that?”
“Right.”
Ryan stumbled down the alley toward the sidewalk. “Saw your girl the other day. Pretty.” He kept zig zagging forward. “She always was.”
What?
“Tell her to stay away from Rebellion. Justice knows better than to bring her there. Too many people looking to rearrange her sweet little face, if you know what I mean.” He chuckled and broke into a hacking cough. “I can only control this situation for so long, Max.” He gripped the wall again, knuckles whitening. “Eventually, I won’t be around to hold them all back. They’re getting desperate. Thinking Sam had the right idea.”
I abandoned the desire to help him. “You’ve got the wrong person.”
“Still think so?” He leaned against the wall, breaths heaving. “Why’s it getting worse, then?” He pointed toward his half-transformed head, where spots of blood trickled down his temples. One fang bit into his lower lip, while his other teeth looked human—squared off. “You think this is normal? We can all feel it, Max. It’s her.”
He did look terrible. Like a makeup job gone wrong on a low budget horror film, but … “I don’t know what this is, Ryan,”—I gestured toward his face—horns, ”—but Layla isn’t the cause of it. You all need to let it go. Let my grandmother help you.”
He shook his head and started back down the alley. “You’ll never get it, Man. Sorry about busting your jaw. Sort of. Goes nicely with the rest of your beat up face, though.” He chuckled. “Maybe I should thank the person who did it.”
I took another step toward him. “You can’t walk around looking like that. You’re going to scare people.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “You gonna stop me, Ancient?”
I took a breath but stayed in place.
“Didn’t think so.” He walked out onto the sidewalk. “See ya around, MacKenzie.”
My grandmother’s porch light was off as I approached the house, a s
ure sign everyone was asleep. Relaxing a little, I unlocked the front door and soundlessly slipped inside.
“So, he returns home under the cover of darkness.” Tristan hobbled across my grandmother’s living room, stumbling on crutches, and turned on the lamp. “Isn’t it against the rules? You being here? Amongst the enemy.” He sank down on the couch. “Nice face. Get in a skirmish with the Fomore guards?” He chuckled.
“Something like that. Glad to see you’re feeling better.” I strode past him and into the kitchen.
“Grandma Mac know you’re here sneaking food?”
“Does it look like it? It’s two thirty in the morning. I didn’t think I’d be having company.” I opened the refrigerator door and grinned. Blueberry pie.
“So, you broke up with Layla.” It wasn’t a question.
With a groan, I looked around the wall from the kitchen. Tristan lay on the couch with his legs stretched out in front of him, arms behind his head. “I always knew you were stupid.” He smirked at me.
“I’m not really in the mood, Tris.” Walking toward him, I sat down in an adjacent arm chair, eating my pie straight out of the pan with a fork.
“Don’t mind any of the rest of us. I didn’t want any pie.”
I groaned. “Good god, dude. What the hell is your problem? And why are you up so late? Shouldn’t you be … healing, or something?” The hollows under his eyes were a weird greenish hue, and the color of his eyes themselves was off somehow. Hazy or muddled.
He shrugged. “You honestly believe that the Fomore will lay down their arms against Layla if you walk away from her? You’re deluded, if you do.”
“Okay … what do you think I should’ve done? Spit in Elethan’s face?”
“At least you didn’t just call him daddy. And, yeah, that’s exactly what I expected you to do. He wants power. Power that you have. He doesn’t give a damn about anything else. You think he’s going to abandon his goal of destroying the Tuatha Dé just because he found out he has a son?” He eyed me. “You’re smarter than that.”