Kill Me Softly (22 page)

She never felt nervous around Blue. She could hold her own with him, laugh at him, and, if necessary, slap him. There was something reassuring about that.

And, she realized … he told her the truth. Even when it might make her look at him differently or fear him. He took that risk. And that made him brave.

She wished she knew how to say that to him. But she was afraid of what it would mean. Afraid that it would scare him like it scared her.

“Okay,” Blue said quietly, resigned. He put his arms around her, and laid his head on her shoulder—like someone who needed a hug, not someone who was giving one. She rubbed his bare back lightly, her fingers drawn to the smooth heart mark at the base of his spine. It was more than the sign of his curse. He wore his broken heart on his skin.

She didn't know what to do.

A
ROUND 3 A.M.
, Blue brought her back to the Dream. He walked with her to Felix's suite when she said that was where she wanted to go. But when they got there, he leaned against the door, as if he could block her from ever going in.

They'd shared a day full of secrets and bad music and laughter. Confessions in a rose garden, flirtation in a moonlit pool.

And now it was over.

“You don't have to go back there,” he said. “You don't have to stay with him.”

She'd been about to knock when Blue wedged himself between her and the door. Now he was so close she could touch him with the slightest flutter of her fingers. One more step and she could press herself against him, lean her head on his shoulder. Forget—for a little while longer—that she'd almost died last night.

“I know,” she said. “I'm not here because I have to be. I …”

She lowered her eyelids against the glare of the lights, and against the worry in Blue's face.

She'd spent a whole day away from Felix. She'd had twenty-four hours to recover, both physically and emotionally. And she was torn. The thought of him—of his mouth, soft and insistent against hers—still made her heart race, made her as dizzy as no sleep and too much caffeine and stolen love.

The thought of the end—when he'd torn himself away from her, then left her in Blue's bed without a word of reas-surance—crushed the air from her chest.

Blue was expecting an answer, and she didn't know how to explain. She was scared to see Felix again—but more scared
not
to see him. She didn't want to walk away from this.

“You could stay with me,” Blue said.

That's the last thing I can do.
She shook her head. She couldn't spend the night with Blue. She was involved with his brother, and things were already too complicated.

“You can stay anywhere you want. Just tell me where, and I'll take you. God … anywhere but here, Mira.”

With her eyes closed, she could imagine this wasn't hurting him. Wasn't scaring him. She didn't have to see the pained expression on his face. She could hear the worry in his voice, but she could ignore it, pretend it was exhaustion that made him sound like that.

“I don't know where I'm going to stay yet,” she said. “But I need to see him.”

Blue made a fist and banged it against the wall. “This is so stupid,” he muttered.

He took her passkey out of his wallet. When she reached for it, he said, “I told you: this is mine now,” and stuffed it into the slot. The green
open
light blinked on.

Mira pressed down on the door handle. “Good night,” she said, hesitant to go. “Thanks for—”

But Blue turned his back on her before she could finish. He headed toward the elevators; vanished around a corner without saying good-bye.

It hurt to watch him walk away like that.

But she supposed she deserved it. They were never going to agree on this.

Mira took a moment to swallow the emotion rising in her throat. Then she slipped into the suite.

Felix was awake, sitting on the couch in the dark, his features lit by the glow of the TV. Shifting light played over his cheekbones, revealed the angry set of his jaw before masking him in shadow. He was arguing with someone on the phone. His legs were kicked up on the table—like he was trying to unwind, but it wasn't working. An old noir movie flickered on the screen.

Mira shut the door. Felix didn't look up.

“If you don't think I can handle it, then maybe you should be here doing this stuff yourself,” he said into the phone. “I told you, it'll get done. I've been busy … No, not that kind of busy. None of your business. No—I don't care what Villers told you. Uh-huh. Right … What?” He snorted. “Hire a tour guide; I don't know. Take her to the Eiffel Tower. I really don't care, Dad. Impressing your girlfriend is your problem. Oh, and it's three in the morning here. So if you're done … Yeah. Okay. I know. I know. Talk to you later.”

Felix tossed his phone on the table and finally glanced over. He let out an angry sigh.

“Your dad?” she said.

He nodded. “Checking up on me. He can't relax if he doesn't question my judgment once a day.” He leaned forward to stop the movie he'd been watching. The screen filled with a glaringly bright commercial—primary colors, some local restaurant—and they both watched it for a moment, not looking at each other.

Mira didn't know what to say. It was like they'd been in one place when they'd gone into the flower shop, and now—now that she knew what he could do to her—they were in another, and there was no easy bridge between them.

“You were out late,” he said finally.

“Sorry,” Mira said, not wanting to explain. Her arms and the crook of her shoulder still held the memory of Blue's embrace. She felt guilty. She wasn't sure
how
guilty she should feel; but she couldn't not think about what had gone on between them.

“It's okay,” Felix said. “I'm just glad you're here now. I thought … maybe you weren't coming back.”

“Oh?” Mira set her purse on the table. So he knew something was wrong; they both knew something weird had happened last night. But he didn't know she knew his secret—and she wasn't sure how to behave. Should she pretend everything was fine? Confront him?

What other secrets was he keeping?

Before she could decide, Felix came and took her hands. There was a gentleness and familiarity in his touch that made her feel safe, despite what he'd done. These were hands that had held her close, slipped across her skin, and taken her breath away. Hands that had brushed tall grass back from untended graves, to check for her parents' names.

“Feel like going out?” he said.

“Now?” She tipped her head back to meet his eyes. Felix was luminous, bright with stolen love, and so startlingly beautiful she didn't want to look away.

It was her near-death she was seeing,
her love
that burned in his veins—and it should have frightened her … but she was mesmerized. The dark gleam in his eyes, the warm curve of his lips drew her toward him; and her mouth wavered open as if for a kiss.

He didn't kiss her. He tightened his grip on her hands.

“There's something I want to show you,” he said. “You'll want to see it. Trust me.”

Do I?
she wondered.
Should I?

She'd never doubted him before. But he'd kept the truth from her—failed to warn her. He could have
killed
her, and he should have let her decide if that was a risk she was willing to take.

“I …”

“Mira?” His brows came together in concern. “Are you okay?”

But … but he couldn't have known she'd loved him already—why would he suspect she'd surrender her heart so soon? And she could see how it could be nerve-wracking, heartbreaking to say, just when you were kissing someone you cared about:
I could kill you. This could kill you.
You could lose everything before it began. Maybe he'd been afraid of that.

She could understand being afraid. He'd wanted her, he liked her, and he'd gotten carried away. Blue had said a Romantic could drain too much love too fast if he got lost in the emotion. And maybe that had happened to Felix.

But he'd protected her in the end. He'd stopped himself.

Mira exhaled shakily, forced a smile to her lips. “Where are we going?”

His eyes were shining. “You'll see when we get there.”

Mira hadn't been able to discern much through the tinted windows of the car; and when Felix opened the door for her, he insisted she close her eyes. He made his hands into a blindfold and guided her forward, his body just behind hers. “Walk straight,” he told her. “Careful; there's a step.”

Her shoes clicked on pavement. It wasn't the squish of grass she'd expected, or the crumbly feel of gravel. It wasn't like any of the graveyards they'd been to before. “Why can't I look?”

“I told you. I want it to be a surprise.”

At last he came to a stop, and released her, but he didn't say she could open her eyes—so Mira kept them closed, fidgeting and scuffing her shoes on the pavement. But when she heard the clink of a key and the labored creak of hinges, her eyelids sprang apart. Where had he brought her—to a mausoleum?

They stood before a heavy wooden door carved all over with figures. The dominant carving—the only one she could make out—was of a withered old hag proffering an apple in hands that had been chipped away by time. There was a terrible look in the hag's single intact eye.

Mira stalled. “Felix, I don't know if I want to—”

“Wait.”

Felix heaved the door open and pushed her ahead of him, into the dark room beyond. It smelled like rainwater and mold, and when she plunged in farther, she could see a scrap of black sky, littered with stars, through a jagged hole in the ceiling. The skitter of something darting through the debris startled her, nearly made her lose her footing. Her breaths came faster, and the ripe scent of decay filled her lungs. Her heartbeat thumped violently in her ears.

“You wanted to bring me … here?” Mira took a few steps away from Felix, careful not to trip over any of the wreckage. Falling was the surest way to disaster in a horror movie—was that what this was becoming? Had Felix brought her here so he could drain the life from her, then abandon her where no one would find her?

This wasn't a place she wanted to be. It wasn't romantic; it wasn't a place you took someone for a surprise. Maybe Blue had been right.

Mira, don't let love make you stupid.

There had to be another way out of here. Somewhere …

She searched, trying not to seem frantic. Just calm, and … inching away …

“Look up,” Felix said. He pointed his flashlight at the ceiling, and she instinctively followed the beam, blinking as she waited for her eyes to adjust. Sweat dripped down her sides and she was suddenly freezing, afraid something was coming for her, about to drop on her, she'd made the exact wrong decision, just following blindly, but then—

Above her, she could make out a faded mural. Like the Sistine Chapel's, but woven of fairy-tale scenes. A red-cloaked girl strolled with a wolf down a tangled forest path. Twelve princesses, dripping with jewels, danced holes into their shoes. An old man stole a rose while a beast raged behind him. On and on it went, tale after tale, all coming together and blurring at the edges. A world of fairy tales. A city full of curses.

It was the ceiling from her godmothers' stories.

This was the ballroom where they'd held her christening party all those years ago.

Mira stared with her mouth open, turning in a slow circle to see it all.

“Oh my god,” she said. “How did you find this?”

Felix shrugged, his lips fighting a proud smile. “You described it to me, and I wondered if it might still be here. So I made some calls, and …”

Mira was overcome. She'd dreamed about this place—the last place she and her parents had been together. So to see it, to be here … Her eyes welled up, both happy and sad.

“… and I found out,” he went on, “that there was never a fire here.”

“Never a—?” She blinked at him, uncomprehending. “But it's—” She gestured to the rubble, the broken ceiling.

“That happened during the storm. A lot of buildings were damaged then.”

“There was never a fire,” she repeated. She felt numb. “I don't understand. What happened? Were they murdered? Is that why my godmothers didn't tell me?”

“Mira.” Felix came to her and put his arms around her. “That's not what I'm trying to say.” The flashlight beam tilted toward a weather-ravaged wall. Chipped plaster lion heads clung stubbornly to the molding, and she counted them, afraid to breathe, afraid to even think about what might have happened that day.

Felix rubbed her back. And said the last thing she expected.

“Your parents are alive.”