Her Lying Days Are Done

by Robert J. Crane

“I’m sorry…what?” It felt as if he had yanked the carpet out from under my feet.

  Glee was shining on Nex's face. “What I said. A sacrifice for a sacrifice.” He set his mouth in a grim smile. “You must die in his place.”

  The crushing weight of fear came back just as soon as it had left. “But I thought—”

  “You thought that because I was a fae that I could make all of your dreams come true with magic?” He fluttered his eyelashes at me, then laughed. “Blood magic doesn't work that way. There are always consequences.”

  “There—has to be another way,” I said, my heart starting to race again. “I have gone everywhere—asked everyone. Someone has to help me.” My voice fell to a whisper. “There has to be another way.”

  Nex was having a hard time catching his breath from laughing so hard. “To cure that curse? No.”

  “Come on, Cassandra,” Lockwood said, gently touching my arm. “Let’s go.”

  Iona had already turned to leave the dirty shack.

  “Oh, please, like you didn’t already know that was what I was going to say,” Nex said, gaining some control over himself. “Magic like that is dark, wicked, and twisted. There isn’t going to be some easy way to fix it.”

  Lockwood’s jaw tightened, and he stepped protectively in front of me. “Thank you for your time, Nex. We will leave you now.”

  “Why did you even bring her to me if she isn’t willing to hear me out?” Nex asked.

  My mouth was dry.

  “Her experience with magic is very limited,” Lockwood said. “And has not been very good.”

  “Then you should have explained it to her,” Nex said, anger starting to darken his voice, his eyes. “It’s blood for blood. Her life for his. You knew this, unless you are a fool. Why give the poor creature any hope?”

  Lockwood stood, defiantly, in front of me. “I suppose I fell to that most human of emotions—hope.”

  “That makes you a fool,” Nex said. “There’s nothing free in this magic. If she wants to save his soul, she must give hers.”

  “Yes,” Lockwood said, “I suppose I am a fool.”

  “Then leave me in peace, fool,” Nex said. “Fools, all of you. Go, then. Moan in your pity.”

  Fear coursed through me, chilling me, like ice in the veins, and I couldn't tell if it was from Nex's words or just simple desperation at being hit with this following that brief surge of golden hope.

  “Fine, we’re out of here,” Iona said with a toss of her silvery hair. She opened the door and walked out into the darkness. “Go find a zebra to amuse yourself.”

  Lockwood ushered me toward the door, and I was grateful for his closeness like I was when we were in Faerie. I had met some creepy fae when I was dealing in their world, but none of them had ever made my blood run cold like Nex did.

  “Or you could always kill Draven,” Nex shouted into the darkness after us, laughing again.

  I stumbled my way back over the rickety wooden bridge, nearly falling headlong into the swamp as the car roared into life, Iona already sitting in the driver’s seat.

  Nex’s laughter followed me all the way, and still rang in my mind even after we were back on a paved road.

  “I am sorry, Lady Cassandra,” Lockwood said, glancing over the seat at me. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “It’s all right, Lockwood, I’m not upset with you,” I said.

  “Magic is a thing of balance,” he said, giving me a sad look. “I should not have given you hope when I knew better.” He gave me another sad look before turning back to Iona, who looked ready to ream him out the same way he had done her about the Oracle. Neither said a word, though.

  My thoughts dragged me from the car into their own place, whirling and quick. Magic was a thing of balance? I pictured myself on one side of a great scale, Mill on the other.

  Give up my own life to save his...or toss Draven onto the scale in my place.

  The latter was impossible. Draven had hundreds of vampires in Tampa. Maybe thousands. An army.

  I had one vampire, one fae, a bunch of humans that couldn't fight worth a damn...

  And me.

  Face my greatest fear?

  Throwing my friends into an impossible fight like that was a pretty damned big fear.

  I cradled my head in my hands. Hopelessness washed over me in waves. I wanted to be alone, to curl up in the back seat and never have to see anyone else ever again. I didn’t want to hear any questions, because I didn’t have the answers. I didn’t want to have to see Mill again because I didn’t think that my heart could take the sight again, not when I already had enough horrific images of him lying there, dying, in my head.

  There was a small part of me that was deeply ashamed that I wasn’t willing to give up my life for his. Wasn’t that the deepest form of affection? Did I care more about my own life than his? How could I face him again when I had the answers in my hand?

  No. I couldn’t go down that route. Blood magic. I'd read enough fantasy books and played enough games to know that sort of magic never worked out the way you wanted it to.

  I sighed for the millionth time in the last week.

  Once more, I didn’t know what to do.

  And no one had said, “I know someone!” that they could bring us to, which told me...

  Everyone else in the car was just as lacking for answers at this point as I was.

  Chapter 31

  The drive back to Xandra’s house felt like it was taking way longer than it had when we had left for Nex’s creepy shack of horrors.

  Iona and Lockwood had both fallen silent in their seats, apparently having reached a truce. Both were seething at the other for bringing us to dumb places, but I think I was on Iona’s side on this one. Out of the two, I would have rather visited with the well-dressed Oracle than with the blood magic fae whose eyes were definitely going to haunt my dreams.

  If I ever slept again.

  “Hey,” Iona said in a quiet voice.

  I glanced at the rearview mirror and found her looking into the back seat at me. “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Should we stop and get something to eat?” she asked. “You like McDonalds, right? Weren’t you just telling me how you obsess over the nuggets?”

  “Uhhh, maybe,” I said, sitting up. “But Iona, you don’t eat human foo—”

  She didn’t even give me a chance to reply. She turned into the parking lot, which was all but empty at this hour. Lockwood shot a quizzical look over his shoulder at me, and I shrugged. His guess was as good as mine.

  “This will be good,” Iona said. “Neither of you have eaten at all today.” Her stomach rumbled, like a distant peal of thunder. “Which I can very much sympathize with.”

  “Yeah,” I said as she pulled into a spot. There were more cars in the drive-thru at this point. “But why…”

  “That was a stressful life event,” she said, putting the car into park, “and who knows if Xandra’s mom will even be awake when you get home to whip you up something.”

  “I could make something myself,” I said. “I’m not that incompetent of a cook.”

  Lockwood was staring at Iona like she had grown another head.

  “Well, we're here already, so there's no need to chance you accidentally poisoning yourself,” she said.

  “I don’t have any money—”

  “Not an issue,” she said and stepped fluidly out of the car.

  “Interesting,” Lockwood said, still in the passenger seat.

  “Whatever,” I said with a hollow laugh and followed her out. I wasn’t going to deny that the smell of food was enticing. My stomach was growling, and I didn’t mind the idea of some chicken nuggets. I followed her inside, and she gave me a smile as she held the door for me.

  What was she up to? This was way out of character for Iona. Offering to buy me dinner? Involving human food?

  We got in line, or the lack of one, and Iona stood there in front of the counter, staring up at the screens. She was studying the menu
. The guy behind the counter looked like he was about to fall asleep and didn’t seem to mind that she was taking her sweet time making up her mind.

  This was really bizarre. Mill and I had been to cafes and other eating establishments, but he'd never ordered anything. Which took a little getting used to. Was he just strange? Was this thing Iona was doing more of a normal vampire protocol?

  Lockwood stepped up beside me.

  “I haven’t been here in a while,” he said. “I find the grease doesn’t sit very well with me.”

  “Not enough magic?” I asked.

  “Too much, if you can call heavily processed food magic,” he said with a small wink.

  “I’ll try the number three please,” Iona said. “With the French fries.”

  The guy behind the counter gave her a strange look. “So a combo, then?”

  “Yes. That. Good. Okay. Thanks,” Iona said, stepping aside.

  Lockwood and I walked up to the counter together.

  “I’ll have a—” Lockwood started, but Iona cut him off.

  “You can get your own. I’ve paid you in the past, so I know you have money. This is for the high schooler who can’t afford to eat in fancy places like this without charity.”

  Ah, there she was. The Iona we all knew and loved.

  Lockwood looked slightly taken aback, but pulled out a really nice leather wallet from…somewhere? Probably out of thin air, knowing him. Less chance of getting pick-pocketed that way. He took a step back behind me, waiting his turn.

  “Cassie, go ahead and order,” Iona said.

  I stepped up and ordered my nuggets, resisting the urge to buy the biggest box like I normally made Dad spring for, and a cola. The food appeared on the counter on a black plastic tray, which Iona swiftly took out of my hands when I picked it up, thanking the cashier.

  Lockwood ordered the same thing I did, and soon we were wandering through the completely vacant restaurant looking for a table. I followed Iona around the corner from the serving counter to a more private area of the restaurant. She picked a booth beside the window and slid into it.

  I chose to sit across from her, and Lockwood sat down beside me.

  Iona gave me questioning look, silvery hair contrasted against the darkness out the window behind her.

  “What?” I asked.

  She pushed the tray toward me. “Aren’t you going to eat? That was the whole point in coming here.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her, but took my nuggets and fries from the tray, along with the ketchup and spicy buffalo dipping sauce I’d ordered along with it. I opened the little cardboard box and inhaled the fried, chicken-y scent. My mouth started to water.

  Lockwood picked up his meal, too, and the two of us began to eat. Iona sat there across from me, hands knitted together on the table in front of her.

  The chicken was hot and salty, and the cola was cold and sweet. It was hard not to shove it all in my mouth at once. It took a lot of restraint, but I forced myself to eat slowly. It was amazing how the most basic of needs, like food, could be so comforting when going through something so stressful.

  Even Lockwood seemed to be enjoying himself. Tentatively at first, he started to lick the grease from his fingertips. Soon he was taking down fries a half dozen at a time.

  What a sight we must have been. A faerie, a vampire, and a human all walk into a McDonald's…

  Even Iona was attempting to eat what she had bought, which was apparently a fish sandwich. I never cared for those things, myself. She was taking small, nibbling bites, chewing with her mouth open, and then swallowing deliberately, nose wrinkling. “So…” she said, setting down her sandwich with about half a bite taken out of it, leaning forward when I was about halfway done with my meal. It was as if she'd run out of patience with this particular experiment.

  “So…what?” I asked.

  “By now, I’ve been around for a long time,” she said.

  I blinked at her. “Yeah. And?”

  “And obviously I’ve lived through things, suffered my share of loss. Family, friends…entire fashion movements that really felt like they went before their time.” She was staring wistfully out the window at the empty parking lot where her Beetle sat all alone. “I mean, why don’t men wear fedoras anymore? It’s such a shame…” She turned her attention back to me. “But we muddle through somehow. We make do.”

  “O…kay?” I said, taking another long sip from my soda. It was nearly empty now. I debated about going to refill it. Or bug Lockwood to do it for me since he was blocking my way. He was too busy trying to use the last of his French fries to mop up the rest of the barbecue sauce lodged in the corner of the tiny plastic container that it came in.

  “And we hope that someday, the things that we love come back to us. Like hats. But not stupid baseball hats. Those are ugly,” she said. She took another deliberate nibble of her sandwich, forcing it down almost painfully.

  “You must love hipsters,” I said. “They wear a lot of fedoras.”

  Iona gave me a very careful look. “Cassie, you are going to lose people in your life.” Her tone had changed suddenly. It was serious, soft. Gentle, even. “Consider yourself lucky that you didn’t know him better. Imagine if this happened five years from now.”

  I stared at her. So this was why she'd dragged me into a McD's after midnight. It was to soften me up with food, and then have “the talk.”

  “Not knowing him for very long doesn’t help as much as you might think,” I said. “It still hurts. A lot.” I pushed away the rest of my nuggets, my appetite fleeting as I thought about Mill.

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “You don’t think it’ll be easier to deal with now than if it had been five years from now?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It would suck then, and it sucks now.”

  “Of course it does,” Iona said. “It all sucks. What I am trying to help you see is that it is going to suck less now than if it happened in the future.”

  “No, it won’t,” I said. “What would suck is the missed opportunity at everything that could have happened. You know? What sort of life would I have if he was still going to be in it?” My eyes stung, but I was too tired to cry.

  Mill wouldn’t want me to cry anyway.

  Iona’s eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “I don’t understand. I'm trying to help you.”

  “Yeah, well, you aren’t succeeding,” I said, sitting back in the booth and crossing my arms. “I mean, do you even have emotions anymore? You’re basically telling me to 'suck it up, buttercup'. That’s not how this works. Not when someone you care about is dying.”

  I watched as she took another bite, and then winced afterwards.

  “I thought vampires didn’t like to eat human food,” I said, my tone sharp, remembering what Mill had said about it.

  “No, this fish is amazing,” she said around another mouthful. “It’s juicy, tender, and crisp. Everything someone would want from a sandwich like this. And only $3.99!”

  Lockwood and I glanced at one another.

  “Did you get that from a Yelp review?” he asked.

  “Absolutely not,” she said after she forced another bite down. “I don’t even look at the internets. That place is a death trap for the soul.”

  “But—” Lockwood said.

  “Shut up, Faerie boy. Can’t you see that I am trying to be the consoling best friend here?” Iona said. She turned her attention back to me. “Cassie, I am sorry that this is happening. I know it’s harsh, but you’re going to have to pick yourself back up and move past this. It’s the only way forward.”

  “Do you even remember what it’s like to feel, Iona?” I asked. “You can’t even possibly begin to imagine what I’m going through. You haven’t felt the way a human feels in a very long time. And because of that, I don’t feel like you’re equipped to tell me how to feel about any of this.”

  Iona looked sadly around at all of our wrappers, empty, grease stained paper bags and cardboard boxes, and the l
ittle crumbs all over the table.

  “So this whole dinner thing here isn't helping?” I could hear the sadness in her words, and then I saw it reflected in her eyes. She had tried so hard, gone out of her way to be kind to me. I was thankful for it. Thankful that she cared enough about me to try.

  But I didn’t have it in me to lie to her that it was helping. “No. It’s not helping. Not really.”

  She forced a sad smile and nodded her head.

  “I appreciate your effort, though, Iona. I really do. This was really nice. But…honestly, I don’t think much of anything is going to help me right now,” I said.

  “Okay, well, then I’m done pretending,” she said, and she spit out the bite she had just taken right into the napkin in her hand, shaking her head in disgust. “Let’s get the hell out of this rancid rat-trap” she said, getting up from the booth, adjusting her jacket, and then starting to walk out of the restaurant. “I need some blood to wash the taste of fish out of my mouth. Blech. Who could possibly think this is tasty...?” She was still muttering to herself when she hit the door.

  “Well, I suppose that was…nice?” Lockwood said. “I don’t really know what to say.”

  I started piling up our trash onto the tray as Lockwood slid out of the booth and stood to his feet.

  “There really isn’t much to say,” I said. “Things are the way they are. Maybe she’s right. Maybe all I can do is just accept it.”

  I dumped the trash into the trash can and we made our way back outside. The parking lot was quiet, the air warm and close, humidity beading on the windshield of the Beetle as Iona started the car.

  “I wish there was something that I could say to help,” Lockwood said as we walked through the dark.

  “I appreciate the thought,” I said. “You guys being here is what I need most right now, I think.” I held that thought in mind as I got in the car, which was somehow even quieter than the empty parking lot, my mind once again dwelling on Mill, who was dying quietly, in agony, somewhere out there in the night.

  Chapter 32

  “You okay back there?” Lockwood asked after we'd been driving for a while. “You’re being awfully quiet.”