by D. D. Miers
He gestured, summoning a thick, slightly battered book from the air, which he tossed at Cole. Cole fumbled but caught it.
"It's the standard Germanic," Julius said. "And a good chunk of Irish and Scottish. The former is a good primer on wild fae. The latter is a solid break down of Courtly law. They're my own transcriptions of the original oral traditions, with none of the Grim Brother's bigoted meddling."
"No offense," Cole scoffed, flipping through the book. "But I think I'm familiar with Snow White and the Seven Dwarves."
"Then maybe you could use a refresher," Julius said with a friendly smile. "Snow White's courtesy towards the dwarves was a big part of the reason they didn't smash her skull with a pick axe and eat her."
Cole blinked, then closed the book and tucked it into his coat. He headed through the portal, and I stepped up to follow him, pausing when I realized Ethan was lagging behind. He stared at the pavement, his hands in his pockets and his expression distant and unreadable.
"Ethan?" I said, and he blinked, coming back from wherever his thoughts had wandered.
"Maybe it would be better if I left through the front door," he said quietly.
"You want to walk home?" I asked, confused. "I mean, I don't mind if you—"
"I don't think that's what he's after, hun," Julius interrupted. He straightened up, dusting off his hands. "I'll give you some privacy. The portal shouldn't close till you go through it."
He put a hand on Ethan's shoulder for a moment.
"You're welcome to stay here as long as you need to," he said, and the soft tone he used reminded me of the careful way Ethan sometimes spoke to Cole, like he was afraid if he was too loud the other man might shatter like thin glass. "Whatever you decide to do, I'm here to help."
Ethan nodded, some of the tension going out of his shoulders.
"It was nice to see you both," Julius finished, looking back at me. "I'd like to see you again soon, under better circumstances. Especially you, Vexa. You've got a lot of potential, you know."
"Thank you," I said, a little flustered to hear that from someone like Julius.
He waved, then headed inside, leaving us alone in the alley.
"Now, what's this about the front door?" I asked Ethan, moving closer, my shoes clicking on the wet asphalt. Despite how long we'd been here, between catching Gil and debriefing in the bar, the night seemed trapped in a single moment inside this alley. It was still the same time of night, and though it hadn't rained since we'd been here, the pavement still glistened like a late summer shower had only just ceased. What an odd, mundane thing to be magical. Were the moths that fluttered around the bare light above the bar's back door the same moths that had been here when this moment was frozen? Or just mundane ones, wandered in from another place, now trapped in a night that would never end?
"The front door of the Silver Ring can open on any of a hundred places," Ethan explained, looking down at his feet, at that eternally damp ground. "It defaults to where you came in from, but if you concentrate on somewhere else... I could just go. Disappear into someplace on the other side of the world."
"Why the fuck would you want to do that?" I asked, my hands on my hips.
"The Wolf only goes after people I care about," Ethan said, and I could see the exhaustion dragging at his eyes, giving him lines he was too young for. "In the end, when it wins, I don't— I don't want you to—"
"Ethan," I said, a little more sharply than I meant to. I forced my voice into a calmer register despite how my heart was trying to force its way into my throat. "This isn't the time to be thinking about that. You've still got plenty of time, and we have a lead on breaking this. Once we figure out the parameters—"
"I think I know." Ethan cut me off. He was still staring at the ground, standing stiffly, just a little out of arm’s reach. I had the sudden feeling that if I moved closer, he would run. "I think I know what it is I cursed myself for. And it's not something I can fix."
"What is it?" I asked, fear coiling like a snake inside my stomach.
Ethan said nothing, but the lines on his face grew deeper. He looked tired, almost in pain. It was the ghost of an expression I'd seen in the elderly and the deeply infirm, those for whom pain had become a constant companion and death was a welcome release. I was beginning to realize that the warm, smiling, goofy man I'd been falling in love with was a better actor than I'd thought.
"Ethan," I said, pursing my lips and taking a deep breath as I felt the tightness of tears trying to gather around my eyes. "Please, don't give up on me."
A sudden certainty grabbed me, like a fist around my stomach, that if I didn't stop him now, I would never see him again. And yet, I was frozen in place. I was so afraid that if I moved towards him, he would back away, and I would lose the will to chase him. The thought shook me, the image of him leaving while I just stood here so strong and clear that it was almost more real than this alley-out-of-time I was standing in. I ducked my head as the hot wash of tears overwhelmed me despite my best efforts to hold them back. I wasn't a crier. Not normally anyway. I kind of hate crying. It ruins your makeup and leaves you feeling hollow and exhausted. It's never done me a damn bit of good. But I couldn't stop it. It was as embarrassing as it was overwhelming. We hadn't even been together that long. For me to be this attached already, to break down at just the idea of him leaving, was ridiculous. Our whole relationship was just a hormonal response to stress. But I could see it so clearly. Him leaving, vanishing into some distant city, isolating himself out of fear of hurting someone and dying alone and afraid. And my pathetic ass waiting at home, never knowing what had happened, left with this hole in my life, this question that would never be answered. Hot tears hit the pavement and vanished into the eternal post rain damp.
"Please," I begged him, shameless. "I need you."
I was such an idiot. He must be wondering when I decided to take this fling so seriously. Must be thinking how clingy and emotional I am, how ugly I look when I cry—
He pulled me close, so fast and so tight that I hit his shoulder so hard it almost hurt. He was shaking as he squeezed me closer.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into my ear. "Please don't cry, please. That's the last thing I want. That's what I'm trying to avoid."
I wrapped my arms around him and tried to hold him back as tightly as he was holding me. I did all I could to fight back the sobs still gripping me.
"I'll stay," he said. "I promise. I’ll stay as... as long as I can. But please— please understand that if the time comes, if I'm losing it—"
"We'll bring you here," I said, my voice muffled by his shirt and my own stuffy nose. "And you can live on Julius's couch until I find a way to save you."
"Vexa..."
"I won't stop trying," I said, gritting my teeth and forcing my voice not to shake. "I won't. You can't make me stop trying."
"It's not healthy."
"It's not healthy to just lay down and die either!"
"Alright," Ethan said. He took my head in both hands, his fingers in my hair, and kissed my forehead. "Alright. When it starts to get too bad to keep going, I'll come here. And I'll wait on Julius's couch and let you keep trying, for a month."
"A year," I countered immediately.
"Six months," Ethan conceded. "And if you don't have something solid by then, I need you to let me go. Julius can portal me somewhere that I won't be a danger to anyone."
I squeezed him tighter, refusing to agree.
"Vexa," he insisted. "Listen to me. We need a plan. I know you're sure you'll find a way to stop it, but if you don't, if I become dangerous, I need to know we're prepared. I need to know you'll be smart."
Still I said nothing.
"Vexa," he said, more softly. "I don't want to give you ultimatums. I don't want this relationship to be like that. I want to be happy with you for however long I have left. But I can't go through that portal with you if you don't promise me that when the time comes, if it comes, you'll let me go. I don't want to risk ending up with
your blood on my hands. I couldn't live with that. Please, Vexa."
I loosened my grip on him slightly and took a deep breath. I'd finally got the crying under control, but I was still an ugly, red-eyed mess.
"A year," I insisted, meeting his eyes. "You don't come here until you're sure that your next transformation will be your last one, and you give me a year to find a solution. Then I'll agree to the plan."
Ethan sighed, rubbed a hand over his tired face.
"Alright," he said at last. "I guess if I'm making ultimatums, I can't blame you for setting your own terms. A year."
I hugged him tight again.
"Thank you," I whispered into his shirt.
He stroked my hair, leaning his cheek against my head.
"Don't thank me just yet," he said quietly. "I'm pretty sure I just signed your death certificate."
Chapter 4
We finally stepped through the portal together, which delivered us into the hall outside Gwydion's magical artifact collection. Beyond the huge wooden doors carved with an image of the world-tree, we could already hear Gil and Gwydion bickering again. We stood still for a long moment, both of us still gathering ourselves, shaking off the high emotions like we could just leave them behind on the other side of the portal.
"That guy," Ethan said. "You said his name was Gwydion?"
I nodded. Ethan looked at the doors, frowning.
"He sure is something," Ethan said, shaking his head.
"At least he's helpful," I said with a shrug. "And his collection is pretty amazing."
"Hot too," Ethan said, giving me a sideways glance. I looked back at him and laughed under my breath.
"Yeah," I admitted. "Yeah, he's pretty hot."
Ethan grinned, a weary expression that didn't quite reach his eyes. But he was trying.
"You watch a lot of British TV don't you?"
I blew a frustrated breath out through my nose at his obvious amusement.
"One, yes," I admitted. "Two, shut up. Three, do not tell Cole. I would never hear the end of it."
He chuckled, low and quiet, but I was glad to cheer him up at least a little. That didn't stop me from being embarrassed though.
"Come on," I complained, despite my smile. "I had a long Jane Austen phase, okay? Regency romance is a huge industry!"
He was still laughing, shaking his head as he trailed off.
"You interested in him?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I was into him when I thought he was a lawyer. That crashed and burned a little bit when I found out he was responsible for the candle thing. But he is helping with your curse, and he didn't strand me in the weird upside-down fairy land when he could have, so he seems basically decent. I'm still on the fence. And we probably have bigger things to worry about anyway."
"Just in case," Ethan said with a shrug. "Same rules as Cole. Be safe, let me know. Otherwise, he's fair game. Although, dating the Fae is probably bad news. I don't know. We'll have to ask Cole and his new book."
"You after him too?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, wrinkling his nose.
"Not really my type. I was more into the Hardy Boys than Jane Austen." He gave me a mischievous look, and I gave him a playful punch in the arm.
The conversation we'd had in the alley still hurt, but something about this easy, goofy conversation did a lot to set me at ease. Just knowing we could still joke this way. That things hadn't changed. At least not yet.
The volume of the arguing in the other room spiked, and I winced.
"If I do decide to date him, remind me not to piss him off," I muttered.
I gave myself a little shake to clear out the last of the lingering awfulness. Things were going to be okay. We'd fix the curse. We'd stop Aethon. We'd live happily ever after in a big house with a dog. I was going to make that happen, no matter what. With any luck, a little of Rosamunde Tzarnavaras's stubbornness had made it through the generations to me.
"I'm going to look for a bathroom," I said, shaking my head as the sound of arguing got louder again. It sounded like Gil was attempting to drown Gwydion out by singing. Or Gwydion was trying to drown out Gil's singing with swearing. "I'm a mess."
"You're beautiful," Ethan assured me. His voice was subdued, but he already had his smile back in place. The raw, vulnerable pain he'd shown me in the alley was already vanishing behind walls so well built I hadn't even realized they were there. "I'm going to look for Cole. I need to... tell him the plan. In case you don't want to keep up your side of the agreement."
He grinned, though it didn't reach his eyes, and tweaked my nose playfully. I tried to smile back at him, but it was a weak attempt with mascara running down my face.
He headed off down the hall, and I went the opposite direction. I hadn't gone far before I realized how stupid a decision that had been. Gwydion's house seemed to be pretty much endless, and the subtly unreal geometry of its architecture seemed to have been lifted directly from a Kubric film. I passed a statue of a woman with a vase and went down a long hall, turned right four times, and ended up on a balcony. Confused, I turned around and went back down the same hall, made the same four turns, and landed in a ballroom. Windows on interior walls showed different landscapes from windows a foot away from them on the same wall. I climbed four flights of stairs before I realized it was the same flight, somehow not getting any higher and ending at the first landing again every time. And none of the hundreds of doors I must have looked through had a single God damn bathroom.
Eventually, I heard voices and followed them eagerly, more so when I recognized them as Ethan and Cole.
"So, what do you want from me?"
"Nothing, Cole, Jesus. I just want you to… to understand."
I slowed down abruptly at the volume and accusatory tone of Cole's voice, realizing I was walking up on a private conversation. They were in a small room off one of the impossible stair cases, the door ajar. I hesitated outside it.
"To understand what exactly?" Cole said, his voice sharp, defensive. "I don't know you. You're just Vexa's pet werewolf to me, alright?"
There was a long moment of silence, and I could almost see Ethan's wince. I heard him take a deep breath.
"You don't need to push me away," he said slowly. "I'm… probably not going to be around that much longer anyway. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to take anything from you. You don't need to try and keep me at arm's length. I'll keep my distance on my own, if that's what you want. I won't even speak to you again after this if you want."
"I fucking wish."
"Fine. Fine, I won't speak another word to you after this unless you talk to me first. I just— After this morning, what I said at breakfast, I just wanted to be sure you didn't misunderstand—"
"Misunderstand you and your girlfriend hitting on me?" Cole laughed, the sound harsh as the cawing of crows. "Don't flatter yourself. It's not the first time I've been badly invited to a threesome."
"That's not— it wasn't—"
"What? Are you backpedaling then? Worried I might actually take you up on it so you needed to get your no homos in? You might as well stop now if that's the case because trust me, I wasn't interested anyway."
"Would you just listen?" Ethan said, loud enough to make me jump and Cole fall silent. I took a step away from the door. This was a very private conversation, and I'd really been listening too long already. "I don't… I don't have that much longer, alright? I can't fix what's wrong with me. I've tried."
There was a long moment, punctuated by nothing but the creak of springs in a sofa as someone sat down.
"You figured out what your curse is about, huh?" Cole guessed, his voice quieter, less defensive. "Dude, I could have told you it was that five minutes after meeting you."
"Then you know why I can't break the curse."
Silence hung for a moment, and I retreated another step, worry about Ethan warring with my better senses.
"So, what do you want?" Cole asked again, wary.
I heard Ethan sigh
. "I just want to make the time I have left as good as I can. Make things right for Vexa. Try to have as few regrets as I can manage."
"I'm not going to—"
"I know. I know. I'm not asking you to. But you're the first time I've— the first person I've—" He paused, a harsh frustrated breath as he tried to find his words. "I just wanted you to know it wasn't a joke. Or an invitation to a threesome. I'm probably not going to be hitting the dating scene any time soon, so you'll probably be the only one I ever, you know, ask. I just wanted it to be— You know, it's the one time I really gave it a shot, even if it was stupid and pointless and I just— I just wanted you to take it seriously."
My heart twisted in my chest, pity and grief making me want to burst into the room and hug Ethan, or slap him and tell him to stop planning for the worst, to stop giving up before we've even tried. But instead, I stood where I was, feeling guilty for eavesdropping on top of everything else, while the silence lingered, a minute ticking past without so much as creak of the sofa.
"So, you've really never even hit on a guy before?" Cole asked at last, breaking the silence. I assumed from the quiet that Ethan had nodded. "Well, that explains why you're so bad at it anyway."
A quiet, stifled half laugh.
"Yeah, sorry. Lack of experience."
"I'd give you some tips, but chances that you'd get to use them seem pretty slim."
"No shit."
Another stretch of silence.
"So, who was your first crush?" Cole asked out of nowhere. "You know what I mean."
"You'll think it's stupid," Ethan said after a moment, his voice almost too quiet to hear.
"Yeah, probably. First crushes are always dumb."
"You know that old Hercules show?"
"Kevin Sorbo?"
"I told you it was stupid."
"Ah, I can't say shit. Mine was probably worse."
"Don't hold out on me. I told you mine."
