Brightly (Flicker #2) (37 page)

“You are… very welcome.”

“How do you want me to get them back to you?”

“Don’t worry about it. Keep them. Burn them. It makes no difference to me.”

“Okay.” For a second, Henry’s expression softened. He reached out and touched Matt’s shoulder, lightly. “Goodbye, Matty.”

Matt nodded once, stiffly. He didn’t say anything.

Slowly, Henry turned and walked away.

Chapter Eighteen:

“I can’t believe he tried to kill you,” Nasser said as he opened a tin of salve and rubbed a washcloth in it. The salve had a sharp, almost minty scent.

“Technically, he was trying to kill Filo.” As Lee spoke, she peeled off her shirt and dropped it on the bathroom counter so Nasser could get a clear look at the damage. She would’ve been shyer about it with anyone else, but it wasn’t as if Nasser hadn’t seen her bra before. “At least, I think so. Matt would disagree.”

“But why Filo?”

She winced as Nasser swept the cloth over her upper arm, carefully rubbing the salve over her already-forming bruise. “I don’t know,” she lied. “Maybe it was just fun for him, and Filo’s who he happened to pick.”

Nasser’s face was a mask of concentration as he dabbed at her bruises, his hands careful and precise. As she watched him work, she noticed the dark circles that shadowed his eyes, the tightness in his jaw.

“Have you been sleeping at all?” she asked, turning so he could see her back.

“In fits and starts.”

“You’re not using the sleeping potion anymore?”

“I’m starting to build a tolerance. So I stopped. The last thing I need is to get hooked on it. I have to be able to sleep without it.”

“Well, you’re not getting
any
sleep now. I hate to say it, but you look like hell.”

He gave a good-natured huff. “Speak for yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” she protested, but she had to admit she looked worse than he did. The purpling bruises that covered her left arm, her abdomen and her back looked shockingly dark against her skin, like ink stains. The salve Nasser was spreading over the bruises would speed the healing process considerably, but she’d still feel like tenderized meat for a day or two.

“So will I,” he said.

“Not if you don’t get some sleep.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to sleep,” he muttered, moving from her shoulder to the middle of her back. “I can’t take my eyes off you for two seconds. Every time I turn around, someone’s almost drowning, or getting ripped up by a sea serpent, or nearly getting crushed. Turn around for me.”

Lee sighed, knowing he was just trying to change the subject, but she turned. He rubbed the cloth in the salve again and knelt in front of her so he could swab the bruises that shadowed her abdomen.

“It really doesn’t hurt when you breathe?” he asked, glancing up at her.

“For the tenth time,
no
. Nothing’s broken. I swear.”

He looked dubious, but he started dabbing at the bruises again. A minute later, he straightened. “There. Finished.”

She picked up her shirt and pulled it on. The salve made the fabric stick to her skin. “Are you okay? You’re making that face.”

“What face?”

“The headache face. You’re squinting. Is the light bothering your eyes?”

Nasser turned on the tap and started rinsing the cloth in the sink. “It’s not that bad,” he said finally. “Not a migraine or anything. It’s just that it doesn’t go away.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all the curse energy. Working with the patients. Once it starts getting to me, I can’t shake it. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Doesn’t Davis have something he can give you for it?”

“He’s already given me everything he can think of. Nothing helps for long.”

“How long has it been like this?”

“Since we got here.”

She blinked. “Why didn’t you say something before now?”

“I did. To Davis.”

“Why didn’t you say something to
me
?”

“There was nothing you could do. It seemed better to keep it between Davis and me.”

Her mouth fell open in silent indignation.

“I know,” Nasser said, before she could speak. “And I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve told you. I just really didn’t want to bother you with it.” He moved to kiss her, but she leaned back.

“That’s no excuse,” she said. “You’re worse than Filo sometimes.”

“I know that, too.”

“You said you’d take better care of yourself.”

“I’m trying.” Nasser bent his head, and she dodged him again.

“Try harder.”

“I will.”

Crossing her arms, she said, “Do you promise?”

“I promise,” he said earnestly.

“All right,” she sighed. “You may.”

Nasser kissed her on each cheek. “Are you mad at me?”

Lee kept her arms crossed. “Furious.”

“Hmm.” He lowered his head again and kissed her on the lips, slowly and tenderly. Her mouth opened instinctively at the pressure of his lips, and for a moment, there was no curse, no secrets, no bruises.

“Still mad?” he murmured, kissing down her throat with a maddening slowness.

“Yes,” she said, determined.

She felt him smile against her throat before he lifted his head to kiss her again. When he took her lower lip into his mouth with his teeth, she gasped. Damn him.

“All right,” she amended. “I’m a
little
mad.”

He was pressed close enough that she felt his laugh as much as she heard it, reverberating in his chest. Drawing back from her, he reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I was worried about you.”

“You were?”

“I could feel it, you know.” He tapped his chest. “In here. I knew something was wrong, but you were so far away.”

Lee took his face in her hands and pulled him closer, until their foreheads touched. “I’m here now.”

Filo and Alice wandered along the trails that spiraled out from the Brightly house for a while after he returned to the island, not speaking much, until Alice abruptly stopped walking. She stood in the middle of the trail, the last of the afternoon sunlight falling in broken shafts across her face. “I’m cursed.”

For a second, Filo stared at her, uncomprehending. “What did you say?”

She pushed up her sleeves and held out her arms. They were mottled with green-black bruises like the ones he’d seen on the curse victims. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist.

He couldn’t speak at first; he felt like he’d been punched. “How long have you known?”

“A few days.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I couldn’t tell anyone. Not at first. I couldn’t deal with it,” she admitted. “I was afraid. I was going to tell you yesterday, but then you were going to Seattle in the morning, and I thought you didn’t need to hear about—”

“Salt and sage,” Filo muttered, squeezing her wrist. “I thought we were done hiding things from each other.”

“This is different.”

“No, it’s not. You should have
told
me.”

Shaking her head, she slipped out of his grasp and hid her arms behind her back. “If it happened to you, would you have told me?”

He hesitated, and she smiled sadly.

“See? You’re no better,” Alice said. “You couldn’t do anything about it anyway, and I knew that would just make you angry.”

“Well, we can do something now. We got the books. I looked through them a bit on the way back. We can figure out how to do it—make our own gateway to Otherworld.”

“You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Going to Otherworld isn’t something you can decide to do on a whim.”

“It’s not a whim,” he protested. “It’s your
life
, Alice.”

“I know that. I’m just… not sure if it’s a good idea.”

He shook his head, disbelieving. “What, you don’t think we should go?”

“Not for my sake. Not if it means risking your life.”

“You’re being irrational.”

“So are you,” she said. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“And you are?” he scoffed.

“Yes! I’ve been thinking about this for days, ever since I realized what was happening to me. Going to Otherworld is a long shot at best. Anything could happen there, and you might have nothing to show for it. The smartest thing would be to go back to Bridgestone and forget about this island. You don’t owe anybody anything. None of you do. These people aren’t your responsibility.”

“You think I don’t know that? Alice, I want to help them. I do. But not enough to go to Otherworld for them. I’m not nearly that self-sacrificing.”

“Go home, then.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I care about
you
!” he blazed, so loudly that they both flinched. “Everyone else can go to hell. I only care about you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true. Alice, if you—” He started shaking his head. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. In Old Faerie, he whispered hoarsely,
“If anything happens to you, I will lose my mind.”

It was the most honest thing he’d said to her in a long time, maybe ever. She looked at the ground.
“I’d rather have you safe,”
she told him, in the same tongue.
“All of you. Even if that means I’m not. You have to understand that.”

“
I understand fine. I just don’t care.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Alice reached up and rested her hands on his shoulders. She had such small hands, her bones as delicate as a bird’s. He always forgot. Her hands were cold. The curse was stealing her warmth.

“
Alice,”
he said, feeling her fingers tighten.
“If it were me, would you let me tell you what to do?”

“
No,”
she answered softly.
“I never do.”

“
See? You’re no better, either.”

He thought she would smile at that, but when she lifted her face, she was looking at him like she had the night she left Flicker, her eyes swimming with grief and anger. But what was she grieving?

When she walked out of the shop that night, into the moonless darkness and falling snow, he’d felt like she had ripped something out of him and taken it with her. He didn’t know what piece it was, exactly, but she still had it. He felt a familiar throb of pain when she drew back from him, clenching her hands into fists.

“I’m going back to Brightly,” she said in English. “It’s about time I told the others. Are you coming?”

Shaking his head, Filo took a step backward. “I’ll be around later. I need to…”

But he didn’t know what he needed. All of a sudden, he felt very cold. He couldn’t stand to watch her leave him again, so he turned on his heel and strode into the trees, away from her.

Dusk had fallen when Filo climbed onto the porch. Henry sat on the porch swing, the big gray cat taking up most of his lap. The lights in the living room were on, but Filo heard no voices. Everyone must’ve been in another part of the house.

He started toward the front door, but stopped short when he heard Henry’s voice.

“Alice told us what’s happening,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Why say that to me?” Filo asked. “I’m not the one that’s cursed.”

The cat meowed for Henry’s attention and he scratched it under its chin. Shrugging, he said, “The way she talks about you…. I just figured you were close.”

“I’ve known her my whole life.” He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge whatever seemed to be sticking there. “Neman and Morgan raised us both.”

Henry was looking at Filo strangely. It was a moment before Filo recognized his expression as concern. “Are you okay?”

Filo didn’t answer. He just walked slowly to the porch swing and sat beside Henry, close enough that their shoulders brushed. A deep, unnamed relief rushed through him when Henry didn’t move away. The cat grumbled and hopped down from Henry’s lap. It trotted around the corner of the wraparound porch.

“Look,” Henry started, “I’m sorry about today.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse days. Trust me.”

A small smiled touched Henry’s mouth, but a moment later, it was chased away by an expression that looked closer to sadness. “I like you,” he said, softly but urgently. “I know Matt was completely out of control today, and I know I should’ve put a stop to it before it got so out of hand, but I didn’t want him to get pissed off and not help us, and I really like you.”