by Krista Walsh
After all the ups and downs of her day, Vera didn’t think her heart would be able to bear any more strain, but the rhythm in her chest stuttered and picked up again as he spoke. The magic of the tea disappeared in comparison with the picture his words created.
And yet…. A niggle of doubt played with her thoughts as she gloried in the emotions his offer evoked. She did her best to shove it aside. How could there be any “and yets”? She had given up so much because she couldn’t bear the thought of a world without Gabe just as he was. How could she even consider running away now?
And yet…
She sighed and turned to look at him. His sunglasses appeared even darker in the light of the bedside lamp. She lifted one hand from the warm ceramic mug to pull the glasses off, wanting to see the expression lurking within the green-and-gold depths, which appeared more human now than the last time she’d seen them. Fear mingled with hope in the swirls of his irises, and she wished she could assuage one as she indulged the other.
“What you’re describing sounds wonderful,” she said.
“But?” he asked, the corner of his bruised mouth tilting upward in a resigned half smile.
“But I don’t think I’m in a place yet where I can take the time to do all those things with you.” She dropped her gaze to her tea and forced herself to speak through the thickness of her throat. “I’ve created so many problems, even as I tried to fix them, and now there’s a potential disaster coming that I’m partly to blame for. The main reason I gave Lozak the book was because I couldn’t bear to let anything happen to you” — Gabe’s body stiffened beside her — “but it was also to give me a better chance to stop what they’re trying to do. I can’t sit by and let other people fix what I’ve broken.”
Some of the tension around Gabe’s lips eased, and he looped his fingers through hers. “I want to offer my help, if you’re willing to accept it. I know you feel this is all on you, but I’ve learned enough in the last couple of weeks to want to prevent what’s coming as much as you do. And like you, I’m not able to sit back and do nothing. It’s why I opened my business in the first place. Let me stand by you and do my part.”
Concern pierced Vera’s chest. “You know what you’re risking if you do that. Fendal warned you — anyone who chooses to fight with me will be left with no guarantee of safety if the worst should happen. Leaving me now would ensure you could get out. It would mean you would have somewhere to go.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never really been one to stick with the crowd anyway. I’d rather go where I’m wanted.”
Vera smiled, this time without any hesitation. The smile Gabe gave her in response hugged her heart, and instead of the squeezing sensation she’d felt for days, it seemed to loosen all the tightness within her.
Then his smile faded and his brow arched. “That being said, I won’t let you out of this bed until you’ve had some rest. We can look at saving the world tomorrow. For tonight, I’d be happy if you finished your tea and got some sleep.”
He started to pull his hand away, but Vera held him tighter, not wanting to be left alone in the dark. The memory of her burning home still replayed on the insides of her eyelids whenever she closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready for the coldness of the bed to wrap itself around her, making her feel like she would never be warm again.
She needed a balm to soothe the ache. She wanted to numb every muscle and vein so she didn’t have to face her pain just yet.
She set her mug on the bedside table, then turned toward Gabe. “I think I’m done with my tea.”
His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t resist when she leaned in and caught his lips with hers.
22
Vera took all the next day to recover.
She woke with her muscles feeling like jelly and her headache nothing more than an echo of what it had been. Her grumbling stomach induced her to go downstairs for breakfast, and she spent a good part of the morning sitting on the back step with a cup of tea, watching Vidar and Baxter run back and forth across the yard. They looked happier, their coats were glossier, and their muscles were stronger than they’d been in the five years spent cooped up in her small apartment. She found herself regretting that it had taken her so long to bring them somewhere with so much space.
When Gabe made her lunch and encouraged her to set up on the couch, she tried to put her foot down.
“There’s so much that needs to be done. I don’t have time to relax and laze around.” She thought of the insurance papers likely waiting for her, and no doubt a longer list of police questions. She’d disappeared without any way to contact her — her cellphone had been lost in the fire — and she’d probably have to listen to the police lecture her on how it wouldn’t look good for the investigation.
But no matter how coherently she pitched her concerns to Gabe, or what angle she took, he refused to listen. “There is nothing that needs to be done that can’t wait until tomorrow. As it stands now, I don’t think you’d be able to sit through it. As for the book, Percy’s already on it. With what you learned from the Collegiate, he has more to go on. Everything is covered.”
She decided to let the subject drop.
After eating, she took the dogs for a walk, her injuries already healed enough that she could move without much stiffness or discomfort. Gabe voiced no issue with this light exercise, but the moment she expressed a desire to return home, his only answer was, “Maybe later.”
She couldn’t find it in herself to be angry with him for keeping her at the farmhouse. While she felt better in her own skin, she was sure he could hear the fatigue in her voice and sense her hesitation in seeing the damage the fire had caused. And even she was smart enough to know that she was in no shape yet to start chasing after Lozak.
When she finally worked up the courage to look at herself in the mirror, she saw why other people might not think she was up to the challenge of dealing with life at the moment. Her cheeks were a motley blend of purples, blues, and greens, and the bruises around her neck from Rega’s first attack still stood out as angry green-and-yellow splotches. The missing patch of flesh on her arm was scabbing over, but the bite on her shoulder where the Colcex demon had taken a chunk out of her was still red and inflamed, though at least the charred edges had flaked off.
At the state of herself, she was amazed she was still alive, and thanked both her godblood and, apparently, her guardian genes for her resistance and endurance.
She was even more amazed that Gabe hadn’t turned down her advances last night. Attractive was hardly the word she would use to describe herself, yet they had spent the entire night together. Despite her exhaustion, sleep had evaded her, so Gabe had kept her company with his gentleness. He’d worn her out in ways that made her blush in the light of day, until they’d both fallen asleep, curled in each other’s warmth.
The evidence of Lozak’s wrath on Gabe’s face and torso had faded as the hours passed. The swelling on his cheek had gone down, and the cut on both his brow and lip had scabbed over. Obviously his Fae blood had blessed him with an even greater healing ability than her own, and Vera wasn’t about to deny she was a more than a little jealous.
Since she couldn’t leave, she spent most of her day reclined on the couch in front of the fire with the stack of books that Gabe had brought from his apartment and an endless cup of tea clasped in her hands. Gabe, with his natural knack for knowing what she needed, appeared whenever her cup was nearly empty, and if it weren’t for her determination to walk around once in a while to stretch her muscles, he would have kept her lying there from sunrise to sunset.
They spent most of the evening and early night together in bed, and although she slept heavily as her body recovered, she didn’t think nightmares disturbed Gabe’s rest at all.
The next morning she woke up feeling more refreshed, and by that afternoon she’d become restless enough that the thought of spending another day cooped up set her nerves on fire.
“I need to see it,” she said at last. “At th
is point, I’m imagining the worst, and if I don’t see it for myself, I won’t be able to sleep. Please take me home.”
Gabe took her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. His touch sent shocks over her skin that flared in her core and between her legs, but she refused to be distracted. Finally, he sighed, and brushed her hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek.
“It won’t be pretty.”
She swallowed hard. “I know. But it was my home. I need to see it.”
He held her gaze for another long moment, sending her memories fluttering around the insides of her skull, then he grabbed his sunglasses out of his sweater and put them on. Vera hated the way they covered his eyes, shrouding his thoughts in a mystery she was only beginning to untangle.
He kept hold of her hand and opened a rift to the same alley they had used to leave the street two nights ago.
Vera stepped into the afternoon sunlight, and her feet turned to cement when she caught a whiff of charred wood and paper. The acidity crept down her throat and changed the lingering flavor of toothpaste to ash on her tongue, but she couldn’t turn back now.
Holding tight to Gabe, she stepped out of the alley and gasped at the sight of the blackened heap that had been her bookshop. What remained of the Yggdrasil Books sign had been dragged on top of the wreck, its blistered white paint a sharp contrast to the charred beams.
She wobbled, and Gabe wrapped his arm around her waist.
“You’ll be all right,” he said, and his assurance helped steady her.
She straightened her shoulders and crossed the street toward the crowd gathered in front of the ashes. Ara was already there, her head bent over a clipboard. Next to her stood a man in a stiff white shirt and pale blue tie, his blond hair smoothed over his brow.
“What’s going on?” Vera asked once she and Gabe reached them.
Ara glanced up from her papers to meet her gaze, and Vera took note of the redness around her eyes and the sparkle in her lashes.
“This is Peter,” she said. The faint tremor in her voice only confirmed the evidence of her recent tears. “He’s here from the insurance company to get the paperwork started.”
Vera reached for the clipboard. “You don’t need to worry about that, Ara. I don’t mind.”
Ara leaned away. “We’re both capable of handling this.”
She kept her words soft to take the sting out of the rejection, and Vera dropped her hands by her sides. Guilt threatened to choke her, but she told herself that hadn’t been Ara’s intention. Yggdrasil had been as much her brainchild as Vera’s, and her grief would be just as strong. They both had to find their own ways of coping.
While she waited for Ara to finish, she dealt with the questions and condolences of her neighbors as they offered them. She smiled and nodded, pressed hands and thanked them for their consideration, all without being aware of what she said or who had made the effort to commiserate with her.
Finally, the crowd faded away and the inspector reclaimed his clipboard, taking his leave with a quick nod and handshake.
“I’ll be in touch soon with the next steps,” he said.
After he left, Ara rubbed her hand against her pant leg and scowled at the street. “I’m glad he’s gone, the slimy bastard. You know they’re going to be all over us if we try to make too big a claim. The police found no evidence of accelerant on site to justify an arson charge, but you know they’re bound to be suspicious.”
Vera could only nod. She’d had the same thought herself as she’d tried not to think of things yesterday.
“And all our neighbors coming to offer their condolences,” Ara went on, glowering into the debris. “They’re probably just relieved it wasn’t their own shops that got destroyed.”
The force of her cynicism took Vera by surprise, but the shock quickly faded with her appreciation of where it came from. Vera had been lucky enough to have Gabe to vent to over the last twenty-four hours, while Ara had been stuck with her own thoughts. Her own anger.
Vera put her arm around Ara’s shoulder and glanced from one neighbor’s shop to the other. The photography shop to her left had already had a pressure washer taken to the side to remove many of the dark smoke stains that had damaged the wall. On the other side, the police cordon was too close to have allowed access to clean up the knick-knack boutique, but Vera guessed it wouldn’t be much longer before both places showed no sign of being touched by the fire that had destroyed her home.
“The police said we could take a look around, as long as we’re careful,” Ara said. “I don’t know if it’s worth the trouble.”
“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t feel right walking away without checking, would you?”
Ara shook her head, and in silence, they approached the rubble, walking along the edge around the worst of the charred wood.
“Did you get any rest?” Gabe asked Ara.
A moment stretched out without any response, and Vera glanced over to find Ara’s glower fading. She sighed and her shoulders sagged. “A few hours here or there, but the teenage girl that recently moved into the house doesn’t seem to want to stay in her room at night. I’ve had to make sure she doesn’t fall as she climbs my branches. Not that I minded the distraction. I couldn’t relax enough to sleep, anyway. Every time I started slipping away, I saw that demon’s face.” She shuddered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid.”
“You are one of the bravest women I know,” Vera said. “I already knew that before what happened, but you solidified my opinion.” Ara chuckled, and Vera’s attempt at levity faded. “I’m sorry I put you in that situation. I should have faced them on my own. You shouldn’t have been there, especially not holding the book.”
Ara grabbed Vera’s hand and caught her gaze. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve always been in this together. I’m glad you didn’t have to suffer through it alone.”
Vera swallowed her emotion and squeezed Ara’s hand before moving away to explore the rubble. She stepped over to what would have been her bedroom before it collapsed through the floor. She picked out fragments of clothing and spotted her mother’s handmade quilt, now nothing more than a single pink square. Part of her wanted to tuck the fragment into her pocket, but she’d never been much of a pack rat and it didn’t seem right to begin now. Not when so much was still up in the air.
A glint of metal caught her eye, and she knelt down to brush the ash off a tattered velvet ring box. Most of the velvet had been burned off, and the plastic had melted, but the gold edging around the lip had survived. She cracked the box open and a sob caught in her throat at the sight of her mother’s wedding rings lying within, somehow unharmed in the silk casing. The gold had warped with the heat, but the damage could be repaired. At least something could be. She pulled them from the box, slid them onto the ring finger of her right hand, then tossed the box into the rubble with the rest of the garbage.
For over an hour, she and Ara kicked aside beams and dug up small items that had survived. A few photographs and a handful of books had made it through with only slight damage to the covers and edges, and Gabe kept them stacked in his arms, leaving the women to peruse with free hands.
By the time Vera reached what remained of the furniture from the front of the shop, her surge of emotions and the physical exertion had wiped the strength from her limbs. She wanted a cup of tea more than anything else in the world.
The walk had apparently taken its toll on Ara as well, although the experience had fueled her instead of exhausted her. One moment, she was brushing ashes off what remained of the counter, and the next, she was grabbing hold of the melted cash register and chucking it as hard as she could across the wreckage.
“Gods damn them!” she shouted.
Gabe set the books in a stack on the ground and rested his hands on Vera’s shoulders as they watched her.
“I wish they would come back. I wish they were here right now so I could tell them what I think of them. So I could curse them to their faces.” Ara whipped around to face
the other two, her eyes silver with enraged passion and her green veins rising under her darkening skin. “They’re hypocrites, that’s what they are. They claim to be all about preserving knowledge, and then they set fire to a bookstore?” Her pitch rose, and she tore her fingers through her moss-like hair. “How can they justify it? They were right there. They watched everything happen, and they just stood there, and did nothing, and then punished you for being the traitor! The whole thing is bullshit.”
Vera’s eyes widened at the language, which she was sure was the first time she had ever heard such words come out of Ara’s mouth. Even her father used to tease the dryad about her civil tongue.
Ara clenched her hands at her sides and met Vera’s eye. “I want to hire you.”
Vera’s shock had reached a limit where she could do nothing but stare.
“For a contract,” Ara explained. “I want you to take me on as a client, and then we can hunt down those women and make them pay for the damage they’ve done. They may claim to be what the world needs right now, but in my opinion, what it needs is people who are willing to work together. Not to dispense unnecessary justice just for the sake of appearing neutral. It’s time they learn they can’t bully people around.”
In Vera’s mind, she imagined carrying out Ara’s contract as she requested. She pictured the fear in Fendal’s eyes when the ancient stepped into her trap, unable to escape it because it had been designed especially for her. She imagined the sweetness of taking her own revenge while carrying out someone else’s, and her blood burned to go through with it. For the first time in a very long time, she looked forward to taking on a vengeance job.
She glanced at Gabe and could see his uncertainty, but he said nothing, allowing her to make up her own mind. Just as giving up the book had been her choice, so was how she would handle the Collegiate’s insult to her and Ara.