Fionnula stiffened at the implied insult. Carmel was right. Fionnula could probably do it as well, but I didn’t blame Carmel for not wanting her involved. I wasn’t sure who I trusted right now either, apart from the foul-mouthed Scouse-Irish-Egyptian in the back seat.
‘You should know something else,’ said Fionnula. ‘You can change things. The things you see in the visions. Nobody’s fate is cast in stone, Lily. You can use them to help people, for good. For your own advantage. The visions give you information; it’s up to you how you act on them.’
That one was too much of a mind fuck. Should I have spent the last two decades following people round warning them about their fate? Telling them to double-bag the condoms? Not to take that first hit from the cute girl with the dime bags in her pocket? Not to miss that smear test? I couldn’t handle the thought of that. I’d be swamped by guilt, even though I knew it wasn’t my fault. I locked it up in the ‘things to consider later’ box, and moved on.
I cast my mind back to last night – God, was it only last night? – and the way I’d found Gabriel. The images I’d used, the white walls and the empty mental spaces. It had been hard, but clearly not impossible. If what Fionnula said was true, I would be able to do that again. Summon up that level of concentration, and use it on command. The thought of being able to touch people made me feel light-headed. I didn’t think I’d ever become one of life’s huggers – too much water under the bridge for that – but to consider a life where I didn’t have to fear it either was intoxicating. I’d be able to go shopping in summer without wearing seven layers of clothing; and dance at a gig without worrying about bumping into someone. And touch a man, other than a dead one. I’d be able to touch Gabriel … which would be helpful when I tried to throttle him.
I spent the rest of the journey practising concentrating and trying not to have a heart attack at Fionnula’s driving. Both were very difficult.
By the time we arrived in Merrion Square, it was late afternoon. The autumn light was fading, and the greenery had toned down to a dull grey as the sun slid behind dark clouds. Street lights had flickered on, casting hazy golden circles of light, pooling on the tops of cars that all looked dark and shiny. The wind was up, and fliers that had been popped behind windscreen wipers by some entrepreneurial publicist were whirling around in small paper twisters.
I banged on Gabriel’s front door, feeling my stomach clench with a mix of nerves and anger as I waited for someone to let me in. Goddess or not, nobody had thought to give me a key. That’s men for you.
A few seconds passed until the door opened, and Connor stood there in front of us, buffed up and wearing a Converse T-shirt that made him look like a displaced surfer, with his blond hair and blue eyes.
‘Goddess,’ he said, bowing slightly. What a gent. ‘We weren’t expecting you.’
‘Good,’ I replied, using my backpack to shove past him in a way that could only be described as rude. Carmel came behind me, and I sensed her pause when she saw Connor, maybe giving him one of her full-on hundred-watt smiles. Glad to know she could still flirt. I presumed Fionnula followed, carrying her dinky Versace overnight bag, but I’d given up caring about that.
‘Where’s Gabriel?’ I asked.
‘Training, with Finn and Caemgen. We were awaiting the rise of the vampires, as they are handy to have in a battle.’
I just bet they were. Big, strong, immortal, with handy retractable fangs for all that throat ripping.
I could hear the sharp clash of swords, and the occasional muffled boom coming from downstairs in the basement. I traipsed down the stairs, and was faced with two doors. One, I knew, would lead to the gym. The other must be the training room. I shoved the door open, and the smell of sweat, testosterone and gunpowder told me I was right.
The room was vast – more of a hall – with one end partitioned off as some kind of firing range. Kevin, my floppy-haired fake barman, had been busy riddling human-shaped paper cut-outs with small black holes. Gabriel and Finn were sparring, using huge broad-bladed swords that, at least in Finn’s vertically challenged case, were as long as a man. He seemed to have no problem holding his own, though, massively muscled arms hoisting the blade over his head.
He took advantage of my arrival and Gabriel’s momentary distraction to stick the pointy end at Gabriel’s throat. Now why didn’t I think of that?
Chapter Twenty-Two
They all stopped, then turned to look at me. It probably wasn’t a pretty sight. My hair was dry now, but had done the curly thing, a big red halo around my head. Make-up hadn’t seemed relevant under the circumstances, and I was still wearing mud-splashed jeans, and a dark-green parka with fur round the hood. Very glamorous.
Apparently, I also looked a bit pissed off, as the smile fell from Gabriel’s lips as soon as he saw the look on my face. I don’t think he needed to mind-read, though, to work out what I was feeling.
‘Tell them to leave,’ I said. Again, so rude. Being the Goddess was turning out to be very bad for my manners. And I couldn’t give a damn. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be polite, to fit in, to play by a complicated set of both society’s rules and my own. I was sick of it. If they didn’t leave, I’d scream at Gabriel in front of them, and see how Mor that made him look.
Gabriel gestured towards the door, and Finn and Kevin both left, giving me respectful nods as they passed. Maybe I looked a bit scary as well. Not a bad thing.
The door closed quietly behind them. I wondered briefly if they’d stay outside and listen, but decided they were too old school and obedient for that. Carmel, however, was probably rooting round for a glass to stick to her ear right now. I didn’t care. What I had to say to this man was sincere, from the heart, and likely to damage the hearing of anyone within a ten-mile radius.
Gabriel was wearing sweat pants, dark grey, and his feet were bare. His chest was bare as well, but I blanked that out. If I was going to start using the incredible power of my mind (ha!), I’d start with that. I would no longer allow myself to be swayed by the sight of bare man-flesh, even if it was perfectly formed, rippled with muscle, and covered in freshly earned sweat.
‘Put some clothes on,’ I snapped. Best be on the safe side. He complied, pulling a black sweatshirt over his head, tousling the waves of his dark, damp hair. He wiped his face with a towel, and stood before me. Fully dressed. Calm. Collected. Giving every appearance of normality, or what passed for normality for him. I knew better. His eyes were a deep shade of violet, and the sensual curve of his lips was grim. I stared at him, staying quiet, focused. Forced my mind to calm, filled it with white space. Pushed my thoughts outwards, like a wire, threading its way towards him … and felt it. Just a tremor at first: anxiety, worry, fear that I’d found something out. Dread of what was coming. Resolve that he’d handle it – handle me – the arrogant bastard. The random thought that he loved my hair, and wanted to bury his face in it.
I pulled back. I didn’t want to be in Gabriel’s mind. Last time I’d done it, it had ended up giving me a bad case of the warm and fuzzies, and that really wasn’t appropriate here.
‘Lily,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘You are,’ I replied, my voice so quiet it surprised me. I’d intended to yell, but it didn’t come out that way. ‘You’re wrong, Gabriel. About everything. I know now what you did. It wasn’t just giving me to Coleen, was it? We’ve been through that. I understood it. I didn’t like it, but I accepted it. But now I know there was more.’
‘Like what?’ he asked, his eyes staring into mine so intently, I thought he was trying to work some kind of mind control on me; trying to find out exactly what I knew so he wouldn’t give too much away by accident.
‘Stop playing games, Gabriel. We’re way beyond that. I know what you did. You deliberately chose to leave me with these visions. You chose to leave me half-alive. You chose to let me grow up in isolation, scared of my own shadow. You didn’t have to do it. It wasn’t just to keep me safe. It was to keep me alone. To
keep me away from everyone else around me, ready for you. Don’t deny it, you manipulative bastard.’
He flinched slightly at the last sentence. My behaviour was obviously unbecoming in a goddess. Couldn’t say that I cared.
He reached out as though to take my hand, saw the look on my face and backed off. He closed his eyes for a beat and when he opened them again they were a lighter shade of purple, hypnotic and intense – and sad.
‘All right. I won’t deny it. I did what you say I did. Fionnula had trained your sisters. And yes, I could have found a safe way for her to see you as well. But I didn’t. You’re right. I chose a different path for you.’
‘Why?’ I said, and this time it was a yell. I was full of pain, full of anger. Full of a sense of betrayal I couldn’t quite understand. Apart from my father, this was the only man who had ever loved me, and he was forcing me to hate him. If this was love, I’d be better off without it.
‘I sent you to Coleen to keep you safe. I sent the others with you to keep you safe. I watched you myself, to make sure. But you were the last one … the last chance to defeat Fintan. And the fate of the world is more important even than you, Lily.’
Huh. When he put it like that, it sounded sane. Reasonable. And yet, I still felt that hurt, deep inside me, like an axe to my abdomen.
He took my silence as an encouragement, and continued.
‘Your sisters had parents. They had training. They had protection. And still Fintan found them and killed them. I was lucky to get you out alive, and I couldn’t risk anything happening to you. Not just Fintan, but the other things that can happen in a human life. I couldn’t risk you falling in love, or backpacking round Thailand, or getting married and having children. Taking up rally driving and getting killed in a crash. I couldn’t risk you doing anything that would put you in danger, or allow you to become so entwined with your human life that you wouldn’t leave it. You were the only one left, and I had to keep you the way you were. Believe me, I know what that cost you. And I’m sorry.’
This time he did take my hand: it was strong, solid, warm, and my fingers felt small inside his grip. I wanted to twine them into his, fall into his arms, allow myself to forgive him and feel safe.
Instead, I gathered my will around me, focused on putting up a barrier between us. I needed to prove to myself that I could hold someone’s hand and not see their future. Especially his. I really didn’t want to know his future, as it probably had a lot to do with mine. It seemed to work. All I felt was his hand, nothing more, nothing less. It was harder than I’d expected, but Fionnula had assured me it would get easier with practice.
I took some deep breaths, held the focus in place while returning to the conversation. If he had any indication of what I was doing he didn’t show it, just looked mildly surprised that I was allowing him to touch me.
‘You’re sorry,’ I said, finally.
‘Yes. I am. Truly sorry,’ he replied, holding my fingers tighter, pulling me towards him. I let him, and found myself leaning into his body, my head resting against a solid wall of chest, inhaling his scent. His thighs pressed against mine, and I felt his face in my hair, like he’d imagined it earlier. He pulled it back, exposing my neck, kissed me softly on skin that had never been touched. It fizzed and tingled in response. My arms slipped around his waist, tentatively resting on the curve of his back. It felt wonderful. It would be so, so easy to give in to this. To relax, to allow myself to feel safe, desired. To stay in his arms for ever.
‘And would you do it again?’ I murmured, as his breath nuzzled my ear, sending a whisper of lust through my whole body.
He paused. I felt the muscles of his back stiffen beneath my touch.
‘Yes, Lily. I would.’
His heartbeat thudded, and I felt it through the thin layer of his sweatshirt. Tears welled in my eyes, and I screwed up my lids until they disappeared.
I pulled away from him. Away from his warmth, and his strength, and his security. Because it was not enough. It was never going to be enough. He loved me, but he loved his duty more.
I didn’t have time to analyse my feelings. Didn’t have time to consider whether I was being a monumental arse to expect anything different. But I knew one thing: he would always choose his duty over me. I wasn’t exactly experienced in the arena of loving relationships, but I did know that wasn’t enough. Maybe I’d never fall in love. Maybe I’d never have a man truly love me. Maybe I wouldn’t even survive the day. But neither would I settle for this.
His body sagged as I moved away, as though I was still there. There was a vague shifting around in the sweatpants that told me he’d been enjoying the moment as much as I had, and he had the grace to look marginally embarrassed about it. Good. If I could leave him in any discomfort, I was happy with that. The aftermath of an unwanted hard-on was hardly comparable to the life he’d thrown at me, but it was all I had right then.
‘Again, Gabriel, I come back to one thing – you were wrong. You might have thought you were keeping me safe with Coleen. You might have thought leaving me with my visions would keep me safe for you. But you were wrong. Because what they actually did was keep me safe from everyone, and everything. I don’t love anybody. I’ve never loved anybody, not since my parents died. I haven’t lived life. I haven’t been involved in this precious world of yours. It’s passed me by, all of it. All of the wonderful things you say you want me to save. And if you want me to love you? If that’s part of your master plan? Then it was an even bigger mistake. You’re fighting for love, for humanity, for free will. For people to be able to carry on living, loving, making their own mistakes. Don’t you see that’s exactly what you took away from me? I’ve never had any of it. And you know what? I’m not sure I even care about it.’
It was a good speech. I meant every word. So I left before I messed it up.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I trudged back up the stairs. Every step I took was an effort. I felt weary, defeated, battle-scarred. I felt as old as the Earth.
There was a familiar thrum in my pocket, and I scooped out my phone. All the texts and messages that had been sent over the past few days were landing. One from the Dormice, thanking me for the review and inviting me to their Halloween gig. Ha. That seemed unlikely. One from Big Bill, asking if I was interested in interviewing the city’s most successful male Cher impersonator. ‘Most successful’ implying there was more than one, which was weird. And one from an unknown caller, asking me to phone the Liverpool General Hospital ‘at my earliest convenience’.
I may have led a limited life, but even I know missed calls from hospitals are never a good thing. I fumbled a couple of times, got through, gave my name, and suffered through a minute and a half of muzak while I was transferred. A nurse answered, sending a shiver down my spine as she said the words ‘Intensive Care Unit’.
I explained who I was, heard the tapping of buttons and the rustling of paper.
‘Yes. Right. Miss McCain, we have a Coleen McCain in here. Your grandmother, I believe? You were listed as next of kin.’
‘That’s me. Is she all right?’ I asked, feeling adrenaline zip through me. Of course she wasn’t all right. Nobody goes to Intensive Care if they’re all right. It’s not a fun place.
‘I’m afraid she’s not, no. She had a slight fall, at the bingo, I believe, and was brought in with two broken ribs. Ordinarily that wouldn’t be serious, but at her age, and in her poor health, it’s caused some severe complications. In fact, it would probably be best if you came in as soon as you can … I’m sorry, but we’re not sure there’s anything more we can do for her.’
‘What do you mean, her ill health?’ I asked, confused. OK, so Coleen was skinny as a whippet and smoked forty a day, but she’d always seemed fit. Strong. Scarily so, in fact. The kind of woman that could take on a Cortina-full of hoodie-wearing ASBOs and send them running for their mamas.
‘She hasn’t told you? Mrs McCain has advanced-stage lung cancer. She was diagnosed six months ago
, but has refused all treatment. We assumed you knew.’
I held on tight to the phone, scared I was going to drop it. Coleen had cancer. She was dying. And she’d never even told me. Jesus. How much more fucked up could my life get?
‘OK. Thanks for letting me know. I’m away at the moment but I’ll hopefully be there later tonight,’ I said, closing down the call and leaning against the wall. I needed to catch my breath. I needed to think. To stay calm. To get the hell out of Dodge, and back to Coleen. She might be a nasty old bitch, but she was the only family I had, and she didn’t deserve to die alone. Nobody did.
I made it up the rest of the stairs without stumbling or sliding back down on my arse, which counted as a major victory, and tried to make my face as normal as possible before I went into the living room.
Carmel was standing with Connor, feigning interest in the Celtic tattoos that were traced around his arms, and blatantly using them as an excuse to feel up his biceps. Fionnula was, predictably, eyebrow-deep in a glass of something red. The vampires were awake, and Luca was lounging across a sofa, taking up the whole length of it, his bare feet propped over one armrest, silky dark-blond hair trailing over the other.
He gave me a smile as bright as the North Star, and patted his lap. Leather-clad, obviously.
‘Hello, beautiful lady!’ he said, gesturing to his knees. ‘Come sit with me – I promise not to bite!’
Any other time I might have been tempted. But not now. Right now, nothing would be tempting, apart from a real-life body swap with someone dull. Someone boring. Someone who wasn’t me, or anybody I knew.
‘Sorry, Luca. I’m all flirted out.’
‘You break my heart, Lily. Some other time, perhaps?’ he said, pretending he was crestfallen.
Maybe he was, but I doubted it, somehow. I nodded, tried to smile. He didn’t buy it, I could see. He raised one eyebrow at me, a question all on its own, but I turned away. Didn’t have time for that, or for anything, really.
Dark Vision Page 16