Bittersweet (21 page)

Adrius was gone. I forced myself to keep breathing, afraid I'd forget how. Too much of my life remained beyond my control and I needed some of it back. Peterson was dangerous, but he was also right; I needed to return to Faery. I couldn't walk around as the angel of death. It made me as much of a threat as Venus. There was only one way I could get back into Faery without Peterson's help. Only one way I could go there and home again and not get killed in the process. I closed my eyes, and called silently into the air, knowing that Zanthiel would answer, because he also was willing to keep me safe.

 

 

It was nearly eight-thirty by the time I made it to Crave. I hated coffee shops in town; they all reminded me of losing Lemon Balm… and Neil. Zanthiel and I had agreed it was better to meet in a public place away from Drearyton Cove. He didn't know I'd also invited Abby and that she was bringing Davin. If things went the way I'd hoped, it would be my last chance to see them for a while. I might only be gone for a day or two, but in the Nevermore it would feel like weeks, maybe even months.

Crave had an uptown feel, large enough to be impersonal, small enough not to be overwhelming. Their desserts were legendary, not that I was in the mood to eat much of anything. All I could think about was meeting up with Zanthiel later, and how I'd get him to go along with my plan.

I spotted Abby sitting in a booth, her head resting against her hand.

“Hey. How's Davin?”

“Fine,” she said quickly. “But I wanted to talk to you about something else before he gets back.”

My curiosity was piqued. “Okay, what's up?”

“It's you. You and Zanthiel.”

“There is no me and Zanthiel,” I interrupted.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Aren't you two still friends? Or did I totally misunderstand your
un
-relationship?” she said using air quotes.

I hated it when she used air quotes.

“It's nothing like whatever it is that has you going all sarcastic gestures on me. Nothing like you're imagining. I promise you. He's my best shot at getting things done. That's all, Abby. I swear. We have no relationship,
un
or otherwise.”

Her eyes were skeptical. “There's like this weird connection between you two, and call me crazy if you want, but I felt it before you called things off with Adrius.”

I sighed. She wasn't the first one to notice our bond. “I can't explain it. It's a little like being under a spell. Cognitively I know it's Zanthiel, and that my feelings aren't actually real. But then when I'm around him, it's like, it's impossible to separate the truth from the lie. And all I feel is... what I feel.”

Concern deepened her frown. “And that is?”

“I'm not sure. It's confusing,” I said. “I just know I feel... something.”

Abby sighed and hopped down from the counter. “I'm the last person who ever wanted to consider this, but I have to ask. Maybe what you're feeling isn't manufactured,” she spoke carefully. “Maybe the reason you feel what you feel so intensely when he's around is because your feelings are actually real.”

I was already shaking my head before the last words poured out of her mouth. “No. No way. I'm in love with Adrius.” I paused, catching my mistake.

“I know that, but you wouldn't be the first girl to fall in love with two guys at once.”

“No. It's not possible, Abby. It's not.” I looked away to see Davin making his way back to the table. Relief was in sight. “Anyway, I'm not a huge fan of guys with weapons.” I shrugged, in an attempt to make light of it. “That crosses them both off my list with one strike.”

“Oh right. Who can stand a hot elven knight with a sword... said no girl ever.” She smiled. “Me thinks thou doth protest too much.”

I returned her smile with a scowl. “Spare me the Shakespeare. I'm not in love Zanthiel. He's a selfish, hedonistic, playboy Shadow fey, only interested in pleasing himself and tormenting me. How big of a masochist do you take me for?”

“Gee, thanks. Nice to know what you think of me.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean you were.... That was different. Abby, you had no idea who he was when you were dating. I know exactly who he is and what he's capable of and I'd have to be out of my mind to think these feelings are real.”

“Okay.” She held up her hands in surrender. “I'm just saying if it
was
true, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself. It's not a crime to love them both.”

“You're right, if it was true—and it
isn't
— it wouldn't be a crime… it would be the disaster of the century.”

Davin delivered a plate of nachos fully loaded and a side salad for Abby.

I climbed out of the booth to let him in. Just before sidling back into the booth, I spotted Zanthiel. Even from across the room, there was a chill on eye contact. Zanthiel leaned against a foosball table, carelessly put together in a loose shirt partially untucked, slashed jeans and high tops. Even in the hazy light his silver eyes cut through like lasers.

Davin and Abby saw him too.

Abby frowned.

“You wanna go somewhere else?” Davin asked her.

She glanced over at me.

I shrugged. “Totally up to you.” Though I hoped her answer would be yes. It wasn't just the idea of sitting through Abby pretending not to notice him across the room every five minutes that didn't appeal to me. It was me having to pretend not to notice him right along with her.

She glanced once more. “No way. I've been living here longer than he has. This is my town.”

I wanted to tell them that in fact he'd actually been around when the town was first settled, over a hundred years ago, but why open doors to chaos needlessly?

“If anyone should take off, it's him,” she said, and fixed him with an angry glare.

And if anyone knew how unlikely it was that that would happen, it was me. When Zanthiel made up his mind to be somewhere, not even the heavens and purgatory combined could dissuade him. Still, I wanted a calm and quiet evening and he was notoriously good at the opposite.

I climbed out of the booth. “I'll be right back,” I said and hurried toward the restrooms. When their curious eyes went back to gazing at each other, I doubled back toward the game table.

Zanthiel had just finished his game and was heading for the billiards room.

I followed. “You're here early,” I said.

He glanced at me sideways. “Obviously.”

“Can we talk?” I touched his arm. His skin felt like ice.

Zanthiel looked down at me with a crass smirk. “Is your present company too dull for you?”

“Not at all. In fact,
too dull
is just what I'm looking for. So keep that in mind.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I am only playing a game.” He leaned toward me close enough for his nose to brush my hair. “You know how I love games.”

I swallowed. “That's what I'm afraid of. I just don't want any trouble. Not tonight. Okay?”

I adjusted my skirt and fiddled with the neckline of my sweater.

“Something to drink?” he asked after surveying my attire.

He flagged a waitress and ordered a beer, then looked at me expectantly.

The waitress only had eyes for him.

“Lemonade.”

“Lemonade?” he repeated with silent laughter. “You don't like lemonade.”

I nodded and looked at the waitress. “With lots of ice, please.”

She jotted it down and Zanthiel smirked. “Lemonade with lots of ice it is.”

When the waitress left, he leaned forward, his hands folded on his pool cue. “Why are you here?” he asked.

“You invited me, remember?”

“I remember. But you want something, which is why you said yes. Otherwise you would not be here. With me.”

I started to say I'm not
with
you, but stopped myself and smiled instead. “Actually there is something I want, since you asked.”

“Then let us dispense with the formalities and come out with it.” He arched his brows, leaned back against the table and waited.

“I want you to take me to Faery. To the Shadow Court.”

The waitress returned and set two frosty glasses on the edge of the pool table. She slid one filled with frothy amber liquid toward him and handed me a clear drink loaded with ice.

I waited for him to pay and tip her, and for her to bat her lashes at him once more to get it out of her system, before I continued.

Zanthiel's gaze darkened as he studied my face. “Just what is it you hope to find in Faery, aside from a slow and painful death?”

“Not what—who. I need to find my father.”

“Lorelei.”

In just the one word, there was a warning in his tone not to push things further. To let it go. Which, of course, I couldn't do.

His silver eyes dug into mine like daggers, while his devious thoughts entwined and blended with the rational ones in my head.

“Knock it off,” I snapped, when an impulse to kiss him came out of nowhere. “You can't distract me with mental games. And speaking of which, stick to playing with inanimate objects. I am off-limits. Got it?” This was useless. It was ridiculous of me to expect his help.

“As you wish.” He pulled back and reached for a pool cue, chalking the tip excessively. He could make any shot he set out to make and had to go out of his way to miss a few every now and then, to make things interesting for the humans.

I watched for a moment as his tall frame bent over the table, the muscles in his forearms contracting as he lined up his shot. I was about to turn away and head back to the table, when he suddenly straightened.

“But maybe we should make things a little more... interesting.” He half smiled.

I held my breath. So close. Why didn't I leave when I had the chance? “Things are plenty interesting. I prefer dull, remember.”

“Let's make a wager. If I clear the table with this shot, you lose and I get to join you for the rest of the evening.”

I rolled my eyes. Disaster was written all over that plan. But I couldn't keep myself from asking. “And if I win?”

“You may name your price.” He smiled and a devilish look danced in his eyes.

“Fine. You leave me alone. You get out of my head and you stop stalking me at night.” Part of that I wished could come true. I'd never be completely free from Zanthiel. We were linked and I'd willingly done that to myself when I accepted the kiss of memory from him in Faery. That's what I get for trying to save the world; a permanent mental link to a Shadow fey.

“Is that all?”

I leaned my hands onto the table. “And, you take me to the Shadow Court to find my father.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied me. “Agreed. But only if this mission involves your father and not the elf prince. And, I will accompany you on the journey. For however long it takes, I'll be at your side. Day and night.”

That was as good as having him there inside my head. Only worse.

“I'd have to be pretty stupid to take that bet. You never miss a shot unless it's on purpose.”

“I'll close my eyes.”

“Will that make any difference?”

“Let's find out.”

He shut his eyes and lined up his cue.

“Hey, I didn't say yes to any of this, by the way. It's purely hypothetical.”

“Shhh,” he said, as he got ready to strike.

In a blur, his cue struck the white ball which slammed into another ball, each ricocheting off another and rolling into a pocket on the table, until only one ball remained. It teetered on the edge of the far corner pocket, balanced precariously on the edge, and then stopped, perched halfway between the table and the dead space.

I exhaled a small sigh of relief as Zanthiel opened his eyes. I flashed him my most charming smile. “Nice playing with you. So when do we leave?”

He looked at me full of faerie mischief, and with his gaze locked on mine he gave the table a shove with his hip. The ball tipped over the edge and sank into the pocket.

“Game over,” he said, laying down the stick. “Let's go.”

“Yeah. You cheated. And I never agreed to this deal in the first place.” I folded my arms stubbornly.

He pushed past me, stopping to pick up his drink and mine.

I rushed up behind him. “Look, Abby is still a little sensitive over your breakup. Your fault, by the way. And Davin isn't too crazy about you either...also your fault. So can you just stay—”

“A deal is a deal. I'll be on my best behavior. I promise.” He held up two fingers like the boy scouts did. It was absolutely ridiculous, coming from him.

“I just don't want Abby getting the wrong idea about...you know...us.“

“Still keeping secrets, I see.”

“I'm not... I don't want her thinking there's something going on when there isn't.” I bristled.

He raised his brows quizzically.

“Especially when there never could be anything between us,” I added to convince both of us.

“Are you certain of that?” he taunted.

Defensively, I crossed my arms. “Of course I am.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?”

“Fine,” I grunted under my breath, “but I swear if you make anyone cry… or bleed… or stop breathing…”

The only person less thrilled than I was with my companion as we returned to the table was Abby. Her dark brows puckered into a frown and she shot me her
if looks could kill you'd so be dead right now
glare.

“What's going on?” she asked tight-lipped.

“Nothing interesting,” Zanthiel replied, gliding into the booth opposite Davin, who looked equally unimpressed.

“Davin. Still alive, I see. Good for you.” He glanced at me, to make sure I noticed his efforts to play nice.

Reluctantly, I slipped in next to him, hoping to find a way to bring this night to a quick close.

A middle-aged waitress who looked bored beyond belief approached us. “What can I get for you?” she mumbled, without looking up from her order pad.

“What is everyone drinking? It will be my treat. Abby...another diet ginger ale for you?”

She pursed her lips, annoyed that he remembered what she drank. “Davin, what do you drink?”

“Cola,” he answered flatly. His gaze swept curiously from Zanthiel back to me.

Zanthiel looked up at the waitress, and as if compelled to by force, she finally looked at us. Or, rather, looked at Zanthiel. And didn't look away. “Hello,” he leaned in to read her name tag. “Marley. We will have three colas, and a diet ginger ale.” He shook his empty drink letting the ice rattle against the glass. “And another one of these.”