A Sliver of Shadow

by Allison Pang

  He sat down beside me with an air of quiet melancholy. “I do not know all the details of your relationship with him, and I don’t need to. But I do know that the man who left your room that morning was quite deeply in love with you.”

  I nodded, hurt making my face too tight. “I know. And I know why he broke up with me. But I guess I always assumed things might go back to the way they were. Someday.”

  “What good does it do to mourn him, Abby? Perhaps your disagreement the other night made it clear to him that he couldn’t stay. To deny you aid and yet take up your hospitality—well, that’s rude no matter what Path you hail from.”

  “Maybe.” I yawned. “And maybe I should just go to bed. Hopefully things will look better in the morning.”

  “They usually do.” He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, the hand hesitating before stroking my hair. “I will not press my suit upon you if you do not wish it,” he murmured. “But perhaps it is also time for you to move on.”

  My gaze raked his face, seeing nothing there other than his usual grave demeanor—but his eye burned with a sudden fierceness. Was he truly interested? Simply protecting the family name? I had a moment’s hesitation, Ion’s face blistering its way through my mind. I hardened my heart against it.

  Talivar angled my head up, and I allowed him to draw me forward. Our mouths touched, a tentative question, answered in kind. Nothing demanding or insinuating—merely a gentle meeting. My hands roamed over the muscular curve of his shoulder, finding their own way to the loosely tied tail of his sable locks. I toyed with the ribbon, hit with the sudden impulse to set it free.

  His kiss became insistent and the elf hadn’t been lying about his mastery of this particular art. And yet he went no further than a soft probe of his tongue, lingering at the corner of my mouth.

  My fingers wove through his hair, the bedraggled ribbon hanging on for dear life. A hint of mischief struck me and I traced the outer edge of his ear, marveling at its point. A moaning growl escaped him, captured against the side of my neck. He shuddered, pulling back with a gasp.

  We tumbled to the mattress, a giddy excitement pounding in my ears. I let it sweep me away, ignoring the subtle differences between now and the last time I’d had a lover. No magical-induced lust here, just a flash of hands and fingers everywhere—sliding up my shirt, down his pants, tracing my hip, stroking his shoulders.

  I’d closed my eyes when he rolled on top of me, the warmth of his body stretched out over mine. His hips nudged forward, sliding the length of his erection over my belly, the heat of it apparent even through the thick denim of his jeans.

  I found his belt with little trouble, my breath coming in short pants as I struggled with the buckle. He let out a low moan, kissing a hot trail down my neck to my breasts. I froze as a sharp bang echoed off the shared wall between our rooms, followed by Melanie’s voice raised in disgust.

  The prince and I looked at each other. “Phin.” I sighed, my ardor dropping like a thermometer in January. “Nothing like an oversexed unicorn to ruin the moment.”

  “Enough.” He grinned at my utterance of disappointment. “I refuse to have our first time in this place of cheap bed linens and moldy bathrooms.”

  “Willpower of a warrior,” I grumbled, my body not really caring about his sudden sensitivities. “And would you be so picky upon the battlefield?”

  “This is merely a battlefield of a different sort.” He tapped my nose in mock admonishment. “Besides, I suspect there may be a bit of an audience next door.” He leaned forward to nip at my ear. “And I like my lovers noisy with their pleasure.”

  I flopped onto my side, ignoring the rising flush of my cheeks and the frightfully fast way I seemed to be breathing. I let my fingers drift over his hand, marveling at the way they slipped so easily between his, shivering as he raised them to his lips. “So what now?”

  “So now we go to sleep,” he said, a tinge of regret in his voice.

  “That sucks.” I let him curl around me, some unspoken agreement between our bodies allowing me to fit inside the protective curve of his frame. “However will you make it up to me?”

  “I’ll stuff you full of pancakes tomorrow,” he said, capturing my mouth fiercely again. “And bacon,” he added, before turning out the light. His head settled on the pillow next to mine, one hand draped over my hip. “And when things slow down enough, I’ll make you a very happy woman.”

  “That had better be a promise,” I whispered, fighting the urge to squirm against him. “Because I intend to hold you to it.”

  He let out a soft chuckle. “I’m counting on it.”

  Fourteen

  I swirled up the last of my pancakes in a flood of butter pecan syrup and washed down the sugary goodness with a cup of Lipton, sliding against the seat of the corner booth. IHOP was apparently a swinging place to be this morning.

  “Hey, don’t be a bacon hog.” My backpack rocked against my hip insistently. “Some of us can’t look all human and shit.” This last was directed at Talivar, of course, who was sitting directly across from me. He was Glamoured, as usual, his mortal semblance wrapped in a sweatshirt and jeans, the dark hair still tousled in a sort of bed-head chic.

  Melanie sat beside him, half dozing over her third cup of coffee. “That piece of shit doesn’t deserve bacon,” she growled, cracking open a single bloodshot eye at the backpack. “Between the snoring and the … biting.”

  Katy shuddered next to me, heaping a huge dollop of whipped cream out of the way of her chocolate-chip smiley pancakes. “He didn’t bite me, but he was in my suitcase. Rolling in my … my unmentionables. There’s glitter everywhere.”

  “Rooowwwwrrr,” came the purring retort from my side. “I like the lace. Too bad Abby doesn’t wear any.”

  Katy made a face. “I can’t believe you live with that.”

  “I did warn you,” I said archly, taking another sip of tea. And then I jumped, the tea sloshing over the top of my mug to puddle on the table. I managed to muffle the yelp, shifting away from the backpack. “Bite me again and you’ll be lucky I don’t leave you in the Dumpster.”

  “At least I’d get something to eat there,” the unicorn retorted.

  “Fine.” I carefully slid a slice of bacon off my plate, casually pretending to drop it on the seat. I unzipped the top of the backpack, narrowly escaping Phin’s quivering nose as he thrust it through the tiny opening.

  “Gimme.” He lipped at the grease-laden strip.

  “Don’t make a mess,” I warned him. “I’m not cleaning you up later.” A soft chewing sound was my only answer. Something nudged my foot and I glanced up to see Talivar eyeing me slyly from across the table. The nudge became suggestive, a lazy stroke up my calf bringing a rush of heat to my cheeks. “Isn’t it a little early for that sort of thing?”

  “Did you get enough to eat?” His voice was innocent. Lazy. Content. I half hid a smile. Regardless of the lack of any true action the night before, he certainly seemed rather smug. I wondered at it, struck by a vision of a formal dining hall out of some fantasy book, imagining the courtiers flirting in such a way. How long had it been for him? And still, there was the underlying question beneath the question.

  “Maybe.” I dropped my eyes to look down at the dregs of my tea, pretending to ignore the soft rumble of his chuckle as he bent to finish his own plate.

  “Nice to see you guys managed to patch things up,” Melanie interjected dryly. “You sure you two don’t want to be left alone in the booth for a midmorning quickie?”

  “I think we’ll manage playing footsie under the table,” Talivar said, shouldering her gently. “Besides, we should probably get going, yes?” I sobered a bit at the thought, knowing this last moment of respite was over. At least bacon had been involved. Katy took one look at Melanie and sighed. “Guess I’ll take first driving shift?”

  “It’s all yours.” Melanie stood up to toss a twenty on the table. “Let’s make some time.”

  The bank manager was tall an
d blond and had a smile that screamed “arrogant prick,” but he settled down after my credentials checked out. He ushered me into one of those tiny windowless rooms meant for exposing secrets. It pressed down on me as I sat at the offered table. Like a funeral parlor, only with the cloying scent of money instead of embalming fluid. With a swiftness that belied his larger stature, the man reentered the room to place the battered box before me. “It’s all yours,” he said, retreating. “Take as much time as you need.”

  The door shut behind him with a gentle click. I could only stare at the box, the key trembling between my fingers. I resisted the urge to wipe my hands on my pants. What if the answer wasn’t there?

  “Then this would be a long-ass waste of a trip,” I muttered, though in truth, I didn’t believe that. At the very least, I might get a last bit of closure. Without pausing to think, I slid the key into the lock, the release switching with a snick.

  Sucking in a final breath, I opened the box.

  And found … nothing. I stared at the empty space, my mouth dropping before I slumped down in the chair in a wave of misery. All that for nothing, indeed. And even though a perverse edge of relief poked through my thoughts, it certainly wasn’t anything I could admittedly hope for.

  I ran my fingers inside the edges of the box as though some mysterious bit of parchment might materialize between them, but was met with more of the same. Sighing, I struggled against the urge to pound the table. “Fuck.”

  Scooping up the box, I relocked it, poking my head out the door to gesture to the manager. Wordlessly, I watched him take it and disappear into the hidden bowels of the bank, a dull ache taking root in my chest. As much as I hated to admit it, there had been a part of me that had hoped beyond hope I’d find some lost part of my life nestled away in a secret corner.

  Grimly, I left the bank, Melanie’s questioning eyes following me as I approached. I brushed past her to crawl into the van. If I looked at her, I was going to cry. I didn’t want to cry yet.

  “Well?” Phineas tapped me with tiny hoof.

  “There wasn’t anything there,” I mumbled, wiping at my eyes. “Not a damn thing.”

  “What do you mean? Surely there was something in the box?” Melanie turned from the front seat to face me.

  “That’s just it,” I said, anger at the situation leaking into my words. “It was empty. Not even a photo or a postcard or anything.” I stared dully at the unicorn. “Fool’s errand.” I yanked on the necklace with a sudden fury. “And this fucking thing is useless.”

  Katy gave me a sympathetic look. “Well, maybe it was a mistake? You know, maybe something was supposed to have been put in there, but your mom forgot?”

  “My mom never forgot anything. I mean, shit, there wasn’t even anything that would have been useful financially—no shares of stock, none of my grandmother’s jewelry … nothing.”

  “But if she was wearing the necklace when she died, Abby …” Melanie let the thought trail off.

  “If she was wearing it. What if she wasn’t? What if this is something else entirely?” I closed my eyes, the minutes ticking by in a haze of sunshine as I tried to figure out what to do.

  “Take me to the cemetery,” I said finally. “Might as well attempt to make peace while I’m here.”

  “You sure?” Melanie glanced at me, but whatever she saw on my face shut her up and she nodded, starting the van. Katy brushed her hand gently on my arm as I crouched there between the seats, sucking in air through my nose.

  “Abby?” Talivar’s voice broke the silence but I shook my head at him. It was all a little too much. The engine rumbled, the vibration shaking beneath my feet and I closed my eyes, letting the rhythmic sway of the van capture my attention.

  “It’s just past Williams, right?” Mel asked.

  “Yeah, then the first left. It comes up pretty quick, though.” I could picture it in my mind, the way the road ambled past the shops and the grocer’s, a playground and an assisted living facility. And then, boom, there it was, nestled in a quiet crook of a street, all sparkling and granite. The headstones loomed, masking the fragility of the place—as if by asserting themselves so firmly there could be no denial of the final journey.

  The gravel ground beneath the tires, popping against the rubber. I opened my eyes as Melanie slowed down, curving the van to rest in the flowered cul-de-sac. Katy squeezed my arm again. “Do you know which one is hers? Maybe one of us should go with you.”

  “I’ll find it.” I pulled the door open. Phineas’s gaze sidled away from mine. “You’re coming with me.” My fingers slid through his thistledown mane, the muscles of his haunches bunching as I scooped him up. He squirmed slightly, but didn’t protest. “We’ll be back in a few,” I told the rest of them.

  Without waiting for a response, I tucked the unicorn beneath my jacket. The cemetery was empty and silent, and somehow I didn’t think anyone was going to be looking too closely at what I carrying. I scanned the headstones, transported for a moment to that bitter day two years ago when I sat in my car in the rain, staring at my hands on the steering wheel. My fingers tightened in remembrance, relaxing as Phin let out a grunt.

  Sucking in a hollow breath, I pressed forward, my feet carrying me to where I knew the site to be. The starkness of the shadows skittered over my skin, a crow’s distant caw breaking the silence. I knew some people found cemeteries to be comforting places, but I wasn’t looking for comfort at the moment.

  “Why did you lie to me?” I glanced down at the unicorn, as though I might continue to deny where I was headed. Ever the coward, Abby.

  “Technically, I didn’t.”

  “You withheld information about who I was and what you knew.” I ducked beneath the falling branches of a weeping willow. Third row from the left and beside the second bench … My aunt’s voice wheezed from the lower levels of my conscious, where I’d so conveniently stuffed it.

  “You let me think the TouchStoning thing was an accident.”

  He stiffened, and for a moment I thought he might try to wriggle free. “You never asked,” he said finally, but I thought I detected a note of guilt in his voice.

  “You never gave me cause to doubt you before. Don’t do it again.” I shook my head, mentally counting the tombstones, my gaze somehow getting captured on the little vases of plastic flowers, a handwritten note tucked beneath one with a childish scrawl. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “You report to my father?”

  “No. I wasn’t supposed to interfere. Just observe.”

  “Even when I was trapped in Maurice’s painting? I find that hard to believe. You know, given that two of his daughters were missing by that point.” A thought struck me. “Does he … uh … have any more? Children, that is?”

  “This isn’t a conversation that’s mine to be holding. I suggest you save these sort of questions for when you meet him. Assuming you want to, that is.”

  “Jesus, Phin. I don’t know.” Anger bubbled up in my throat. Ion had warned me, hadn’t he? Hell, even Talivar pointed out that I was becoming a pawn for the Fae. It hurt beyond measure to think it would come from those who should have been protecting me.

  “It’s right there,” Phineas said, his voice soft. I shivered inwardly, glancing over in the direction he indicated, though how the hell he knew where it was I couldn’t have said. I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask. But yes, there it was, a curving sweep of polished granite with a simple beveled edge. My mother’s name etched beneath a single heart in a flowery script. Jessica Anna Sinclair. Beloved.

  That was it. Nothing about being a mother. No solemn platitudes about God or an angel’s grace. Just her name, and the respective dates.

  I traced one hand on the outside of the stone, expecting it to be cold as my fingers feathered over the edge. I was tentative, suspecting it might bite, images of that long-ago night flashing through me over and over in a blur of lights and metal. Before I would have shut down, pushed the memories away, but I couldn’t afford that now.

 
In the end, it was merely stone, nestled among a clump of decorative grass and a cluster of foxgloves.

  I sank to my knees, barely noticing as Phin shook himself free. I couldn’t remember who had made the arrangements, only that I had been told she was buried while I lay in my coma. I had assumed it would have been my aunt, but what if it had been my father?

  “Did he love my mother?” The words were abrupt, as though I might swallow them if I didn’t get them out. And really, what sort of question was that? How could he have? After all, my mother had barely mentioned him other than to tell my ten-year-old self that I did, indeed, have claim to such a mystical being as a dad.

  Not that I’d even had so much as a picture. Nothing other than whatever strangeness I might have seen in the mirror, anyway.

  The unicorn sighed, sitting down to lay his head upon my knee. “These are not my questions to answer,” he repeated. “But I suspect so. As much as he might have been able to.”

  “I thought he was the Queen’s lover?”

  “Yes. But she has granted him certain … allowances.” His cobalt eyes glimmered up at me sadly. “But he knew about you, Abby. That’s why he sent me to watch you.”

  “Fat lot of good it did me,” I said bitterly, inclining my head toward the stone. “Or my mother.”

  His ears flattened. “Don’t blame me for that,” he snapped. “Mortal foolishness took your mother’s life. And even if I had been there, there’s nothing I could have done.”

  I stared down at him. “I thought unicorns could bring someone back to life.”

  His upper lip wrinkled. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. It’s like a bee stinger. I only get one chance at it.”

  I blinked. “And then what? Your horn just falls out?”