by March, Lucy
“I don’t need those,” I said. “I feel a lot better. Just give me a minute, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Shut up.” He lifted my head and set the pillow underneath, then flipped the blanket out over me. “You’re not going anywhere until you’re stronger. Go to sleep.”
“Stop telling me to shut up,” I said, my lower lip twitching as my mood swung back into the crying zone. “I’m tired and I hurt and I’m scared, so stop being mean to me.”
He paused for a moment, watching me.
“You gonna cry again?”
I blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “No.”
“Good.” His expression seemed to soften a bit, and I looked up at him. We stayed like that for a bit, both of us seeming to accept the gentle transition from enemies to … well, not exactly friends, but we were on the same side at least. For the moment, anyway.
He broke the eye contact first, turning to grab the ugly orange recliner and shove it next to the couch. He sat down, flicked the legs out, and said, “Get some sleep. I’ll be right here. She’s gonna be hurting for a while, too, so it’ll be a bit before she tries to get at you again.”
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
He shrugged, leaning back into the chair. “It’s what I got.”
“Right.” I turned over onto my side, hugging the pillow under my head. “Why are you here? What does any of this have to do with you?”
He closed his eyes and rested his head back on the chair, and for a moment, I thought he hadn’t heard me, but then he said. “I’m here because of her.”
“Because of who?” I asked.
It took him a minute to answer. “Holly.”
Holly. “My sister,” I said absently. “Davina told me you killed her.”
He let out a bitter huff. “She did, did she?”
“Not true?”
He was quiet for a long while, his face stony, and then he said, “No. It’s not true.”
I let the puzzle pieces slowly rearrange themselves in my head. “She’s the one who stole Holly’s magic. She was the conjurer. She’s the one who’s going crazy, and needs my day magic to balance herself out.” I felt dizzy, all the pieces flying around me, and I picked one out of the air. “And you … did you know Holly? Were you friends, too?”
He didn’t answer, just stared off at a spot on the wall over my head, and my heart cracked a little as the realization hit.
“You loved her,” I said, and his eyes shot back to mine. “Holly,” I added, as if either of us needed the clarification.
Even through the hard shell he kept around him, I could see the pain in his face, the slump of his body, and my heart ached for him. Or for me. Probably both.
“You loved her,” I said again, and again, he didn’t argue. “Did she love you back?”
He lowered his eyes, and I could see the answer. Yes. She had.
“So … you’re kind of like my brother-in-law, then.”
“Go to sleep.”
“No.” I took a breath, trying to slow my thudding heart, and with great effort, pushed myself up to sitting.
“You forget the part where I saved your life? Least you can do is listen when I say you need rest.”
“I want to know what happened,” I said. “To Holly.”
He gave me a dark look. “You know all you need to know.”
“What was she like?”
“Lie back down. You look like you’re gonna vomit again, and I don’t want a mess on my floor.”
“I just want to know what she was like,” I said. “Was she pretty? Was she kind? Was she smart? Funny?”
Just the effort of sitting up was making me dizzy, but the idea of lying down and going to sleep without learning everything there was to know about my sister from the man who had loved her seemed unthinkable.
Cain leaned forward, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’ll talk when you’re stronger. But for now, you need to rest. Okay?”
“Okay.” I leaned back, slowly, onto the couch and my body trembled a bit with the effort. My eyes filled with tears, and I didn’t bother to blink them back. A father I’d never known about was missing, probably dead; a sister I’d never known about was definitely dead; and the friend I’d thought could help me make sense out of it all had betrayed me.
Cain shifted in his seat, but I didn’t look at him, just closed my eyes and let the tears flow. Screw him if he didn’t like it.
I heard him get up a moment later, and when I looked up, he was holding a roll of toilet paper out to me.
“Thanks.” I took it from him, ripped off a length, and blew my nose. He sat down in the recliner and kicked the legs out again. I cried for as long as I needed to, and he didn’t say a word. After a while, the grief dried up, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. I snuggled into the soft pillow.
“Happy Larry really is a sleazebag,” I said, sniffling.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, leaning his head back on the chair and closing his eyes. “He is.”
*
I don’t know how long I slept, but it was almost dark when I opened my eyes again. I could feel the thump-thump from the music downstairs in the bar, but I couldn’t hear clearly enough to tell what song it was exactly, which said some impressive things about the construction of the building, considering the apartment was right on top of the bar. I stretched for a moment, rolled on my side, and looked around.
Cain was gone, but Tobias was there, asleep in the orange easy chair, his hands clasped lightly over his stomach. I didn’t make any noise, just watched him, but apparently the heat of my stare was enough to wake him. He opened his eyes and watched me for a long while, unmoving.
“How are you doing?” he said finally.
I sniffed. “It smells bad in here.”
“That’s probably me.”
“I don’t think so.” I reached up to my neck, where something was tucked around my throat, into my sweatshirt. I pulled it out, holding it away from me with my two fingers.
A damp gym sock that had been filled with some kind of weird paste.
“Oh, right,” Tobias said. “That’s a poultice, for your throat. Cain sent me all the way out to Buffalo to get the mullein. I don’t even know what the hell else he put in there.”
“These people and gym socks, I swear. Smells like a mix of baby butt paste and dead muskrat.” I tossed it across the room and lay back down. “Where is Cain?”
“Outside, having a smoke.” Tobias kept his eyes on me, and even in the dark, I could see the intensity in his expression as he watched me. “How are you feeling?”
I took a moment to check myself. I wasn’t cold anymore. My throat was still a bit raw, but definitely improved. My muscles felt weak and sore, but other than that …
“I think I might survive.”
Tobias cleared his throat. “For a while there, we weren’t sure you would.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. “Sorry.”
His every muscle seemed taut with tension, making him look like an animal on alert for an attack. “Wanna tell me what the hell happened?”
I looked at him, surprised by the sudden ice in his tone. “You know what happened.”
He got up from the chair and went to the window, staring out of it as he spoke. “I know that I asked you to stay home and wait for me, and I know that you didn’t. What I don’t know is if my advice even entered your mind when you were running off to get yourself killed.”
I pulled myself up to a sitting position, and it made me a little dizzy, but lying down while getting yelled at made me feel too vulnerable. “Peach got attacked. I panicked. I just wanted the magic gone, I wanted it out of me. So I sent for Davina.”
He turned to face me. “Why didn’t you send for me?”
“Because…”
He waited for a moment for me to elaborate, and when I didn’t, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Because why?”
I shrugged, annoyance creeping through me as he made me feel m
ore and more like a kid in the principal’s office. “Because I wanted it gone, and you couldn’t help me with that. Davina could.”
He let out a harsh, mirthless laugh. “Yeah. The same way she helped your sister, leaving her dead in the middle of a forest? Is that what you wanted? Because ten more minutes, and you would have had it.”
“I didn’t know that at the time. I thought Cain killed Holly, and I thought Davina was my friend.” I put my hand to my spinning head. “Tobias, I’m in rough shape. Any chance the grilling can wait for a while?”
“Sure.” He sat down in the chair, leaning back and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He looked like hell, which made me feel like hell, but there was nothing to do but sit there and let the tension set around us.
“I thought you were dead,” he said finally, but when I looked at him, he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the ceiling. “I saw you lying there … you were so still. When I touched you, you were cold and all I could think was that you were dead and I had killed you.”
“Tobias, that’s ridiculous.”
He shifted his focus to lock his eyes with mine. “I didn’t want to crowd you. Had you just been a job, I would have shadowed you every minute. I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if you were mad at me or if you didn’t like it. I would have protected you.”
At this, my ire rose. “What, just because I’m a woman, I can’t take care of myself? I need a man around to protect me all the time? Sexist ass.”
He gave me a dull look. “Not because you’re a woman. Because someone wants to kill you, and I have more experience with that than you do.”
My ire deflated. “Oh.”
He let out a huff of annoyance. “Yeah.”
“So … I guess I’m the sexist ass in this scenario, then?”
“Yep.”
“Just checking.” I yawned, unable to help myself, then breathed deeply and immediately regretted it. “Jeez, I need a shower. I smell like stinky gym sock.”
He was silent, staring off into space. I sat forward, leaning my elbows on my knees.
“Forgive me for what I’m about to say, because I know every girlfriend in the world says this and it’s awful but … what are you thinking?”
He watched me for a long moment, then said, “I’m thinking that you’re not my girlfriend.”
I felt the stab of that hit me hard in the gut, and I took a breath and sat back. “Ow.”
“Liv—”
“No, I got it.” I blinked hard, and took in a deep breath. “Message received.”
“There’s no way to make it work,” he said, his tone flat. “One of these days, I’m going to disappear, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
“Stop protecting me,” I said. “I’m a grown woman. I get to decide what I can handle and what I can’t.”
“What if I can’t handle it?”
He said it so quietly that I almost wasn’t sure if I’d heard him right, but when I looked at him, I knew I had. He was drained, both physically and emotionally, and he was coming off two days of panic and worry and very little sleep, if he’d gotten any at all. I put myself in his shoes for a moment, imagining how I would have felt if the roles were reversed. The very thought of finding him half-dead, of not knowing whether or not he would survive, of believing that I could have protected him but had failed … just imagining it made me feel sick.
I was still trying to figure out what to say when the front door opened, and Cain walked in. I hugged my arms around myself, digging my fingers into my sides and trying to concentrate on the physical pain, which was tough, but at least bearable. Tobias shot up off the chair and went out the door, letting it close quietly behind him.
“I see you’ve been winning friends and influencing people,” Cain said wryly.
“Can I go home now?” I looked up at him, trying to focus my anger on him rather than deal with what had just happened between me and Tobias.
Cain watched me for a moment, then glanced toward the door through which Tobias had disappeared. When he looked back at me, his expression was not friendly, exactly, but it wasn’t antagonistic, either.
“Yeah,” he said. “If you can walk, you can go home.”
I pushed myself up from the futon and took a step. My muscles felt wobbly, but I managed to put one foot in front of the other and not fall down, so I chalked that up as success. Cain walked over to me, took my hand and placed it on his shoulder, and I pulled it away.
“You either lean on me or him,” he said, motioning his head in the direction Tobias had gone. “But you’re not making it down those steps without help.”
I sighed and gripped his shoulder, letting him put one hand on the small of my back to help guide me. We stepped outside onto the metal exterior steps that led down the side of Happy Larry’s to the alley. Tobias, who had been sitting on the top step, got up.
“We’re going back to her house,” Cain said. He and Tobias exchanged a glance, and Tobias stepped out of the way to let us by. I kept my eyes on my feet as we navigated the rickety metal staircase, and managed to ignore the fact that Tobias was right behind us as we made our way home.
15
I was sitting on my couch, freshly showered and in blissfully clean clothes, when there was banging on the front door, and I heard an aged voice hollering, “Livvy?”
Betty.
“In here!” I called out, too tired to even think of getting up to answer the door.
“Liv?” Betty came into the living room and looked at me, her hand over her heart. “I swear to god, if I survive this, I’m going to kill you. I am too old for this, Livvy.”
She made her way over to the couch and sat next to me, pulled me into a hug, then pinched my cheek, kinda hard.
“Ow!”
“That’s what you get for scaring the hell out of me.” She leaned back on the couch, hand over her heart. “I need a drink.”
“What happened?”
She turned her eyes to me. “Ginny Boyle told us that you were there when Peach got attacked, and then I called and called and called and all I got was voice mail.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” I said. “I turned my phone into a bat.”
“So, I came here last night to check on you, and you weren’t here.” She picked up my cell phone, which was still charging on the coffee table where I’d left it two nights ago. “I left you a thousand messages. Where were you?” Before I could answer, she said, “Oh, god, Stacy!” She flipped open her phone, hit a number for speed-dial and then said, “Stacy, I’ve got her. Yes, she’s … fine.” She eyed me warily as she said it; I guessed I didn’t look quite fine. “Okay, come by in the morning, and you can yell at her then.” She tucked her phone in her pocket and sat next to me, grabbing my hands in hers. “Honey, you look awful. Do I smell bacon?”
“Oh. Yeah. Um…” I hesitated for a minute, wondering how to explain why Cain was in my kitchen cooking for me, but I was too tired to explain, so I just said, “Cain’s making eggs.”
Betty froze and her voice went low. “Cain?”
“He’s okay,” I said. “Davina tried to steal my magic last night. He saved my life.”
Betty opened her mouth, then closed it, then looked at me, her face all confusion, but I had to give her credit—she didn’t argue, and she didn’t say I told you so. “And now he’s making you eggs?”
“Everything’s in the wash,” Tobias said, stepping into the living room. “I set it to cold, like you said. Hey, Betty.”
He sat down in the floral love seat across from the couch, and Betty raised a brow at me.
“One man cooking for you, another doing your laundry.” Betty smiled at me. “How do I get your job?”
I managed a half-smile, and Tobias cleared his throat stiffly. Betty looked from me to him, then back to me. Her expression softened as she picked up on the not-too-subtle tension between me and Tobias; her response was to squeeze my hand gently.
“Now eat this slowly,” Cain said, coming aroun
d the corner into the living room, a plate in his hand. “Little bites. If you hurl, I’m not cleaning it up.”
Cain paused for a moment when he saw Betty, then walked over to stand across the coffee table from me. Betty stiffened, making it clear she was not happy about Cain’s presence in my house. Cain, either not noticing or not caring, handed me the plate and a fork and repeated himself, as though I was a third-grader. “Little bites.”
“Betty … this is Cain.” I said, motioning toward Cain with my fork. “He’s a conjurer, a…” I hesitated, choosing my words carefully, “… friend of Holly’s. Cain, this is Betty. She’s my boss. Also, she makes magical pastries.”
Cain gave a brief nod, and Betty shifted closer to me on the couch. I poked at the food on my plate and my stomach protested, so I turned to Betty.
“How’s Peach doing?”
“They let her go from the hospital this morning,” she said. “She had a minor concussion, but other than a few bruises, she’s okay. Nick’s with her next door. Neither one of them can remember what happened.” Betty looked at me pointedly. “I’m assuming you know.”
I sighed and put the fork down. “Millie. Walnuts. Only it wasn’t just Millie. She was surfing Davina’s power.”
“She’ll tell you about it later,” Cain said, picking up the fork and putting it back in my hand. “Right now, she needs to eat, and then she needs to rest.”
Betty shot an annoyed look at Cain, and turned her attention back to me. “So, I take it Tobias knows … everything?”
I nodded. “He’s Magical security. Holly sent him to watch over me, a year and a half ago.”
Betty straightened in surprise and looked at Tobias. “ASF or RIAS?”
“ASF,” he said.
“What’s that?” I said.
“Allied Strategical Forces,” Tobias said. “Name of the firm.”
“Better than RIAS,” Betty said. “You can’t trust those bastards. They get ahold of you, no one will ever hear from you again.”
“RIAS?” I asked. “What’s RIAS?”
Tobias looked at me. “Regional Initiative Action Services.”
“Oh.” I thought for a beat. “So, Magicals are as fond of bullshit acronyms as everyone else, then?”
