I realized, then, that the reason I’d been so conflicted since the night I’d watched Barrons step out of the Unseelie mirror was because, in my heart, I didn’t really believe he was evil. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think he was good, either, but bad is potential evil. Evil is a lost cause. I hadn’t been willing to trust my heart because I’d been afraid I’d make Alina’s mistakes, and as I was dying, the bodiless narrator of my life would remark, Gee, there goes the second Lane girl, dumber than the first. The most confused we ever get is when we’re trying to convince our heads of something our heart knows is a lie.
His fingers were inches from the Sinsar Dubh.
“Barrons!” I shouted.
He flinched and looked back at me. His eyes were black on black.
“Jericho,” I cried.
Barrons shook his head, once, a violent jerk from side to side. Moving like a man with bones fractured in every limb, he pushed himself slowly to his feet, and began backing away.
Suddenly the Book morphed into the Beast and rose, and rose, and rose until it towered over us, eclipsing the sky.
Barrons turned then, and ran.
The pain was back, crushing, crucifying. The night turned cold and life-sucking, and the wind returned, screaming with the voices of the unavenged dead.
I felt myself scooped up.
I flung my arms around Barrons’ neck and held on as he ran.
At four o’clock in the morning, we were sitting in front of a fire in the bookstore, in the rear conversation area, behind bookcases where no passersby might see us, not that any were expected at four o’clock in the morning on the edge of a Dark Zone.
I was snuggled in a nest of blankets, staring into the flames. Barrons brought me a cup of hot cocoa he’d microwaved, using two packets of instant from Fiona’s old stash behind the cash register. I accepted it gratefully. Every few minutes, I jerked with a convulsive chill. I doubted I would ever get warm again.
“She’s with O’Bannion, you know,” I told him through lips that burned with cold. Even Barrons looked chilled, pale.
“I know,” he said.
“She’s eating Unseelie.”
“Yes.”
“Do you care?”
“Fio is her own woman, Ms. Lane.”
“What if I have to kill her?” If she came after me now, I’d have no choice but to stab her.
“She tried to kill you. If her plan had worked, you would have been dead. I underestimated her. I didn’t think her capable of murder. I was wrong. She wanted you out of the way and was willing to sacrifice anything I might want, or need, to accomplish it.”
“Were you her lover?”
He looked at me. “Yes.”
“Oh.” I swirled the cocoa with my spoon. “She was a little old, don’t you think?” I rolled my eyes at myself as soon as I said it. I was going by appearances, not reality. Reality was Barrons was at least twice her age; who knew how much more?
His lips curved faintly.
I began to cry.
Barrons looked horrified. “Stop that immediately, Ms. Lane.”
“I can’t.” I sniffled into my cup of cocoa so he couldn’t see my face.
“Try harder!”
I gave a great sniff and shudder, and turned it off.
“I have not been her lover for. some time,” he offered, watching me carefully.
“Oh, get over yourself! That’s not why I cried.”
“Why, then?”
“I can’t do it, Barrons,” I said hollowly. “You saw it. I can’t get. that. that. thing. Who are we kidding?”
We stared into the flames for a time, until long after my cocoa was gone.
“What did it feel like to you?” I said, finally.
His mouth shaped a bitter smile. “All this time I’ve been hunting it, I’ve been telling myself I would be the exception. I would be the one who could touch it. Use it. I would be unaffected. I was so certain of myself. ‘Just get me within sight distance of it, Ms. Lane,’ I said, convinced I’d all but have it in the bag then. Well, I was wrong.” He laughed, a sharp bark of a sound. “I can’t touch it, either.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“A fine distinction. Irony, perfect definition: That for which I want to possess it, I would no longer want, once I possessed it. I would lose everything to gain nothing. I am not one for exercises in futility.”
Well, at least I no longer had to worry about Barrons or V’lane getting the Book before I did. V’lane couldn’t touch it because he was Seelie, and Barrons wouldn’t touch it because he was smart enough to realize that whatever purpose he wanted it for would be instantly forfeit to the Beast’s all-consuming nature. “Was it coming after us?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It certainly looked like it, though, didn’t it?”
I nestled deeper into my blankets. “What are we going to do, Barrons?”
He gave me a dark look. “The only thing we can do, Ms. Lane. We’re going to keep those fucking walls up.”
Chapter 14
When I unlocked the front door Thursday morning to open for business—a measure of how desperately I wanted to be a normal girl in a normal world—Inspector Jayne was waiting for me.
I stepped back to let him in, closed the door, then, with a gusty sigh, ceded the absurdity of my actions, and flipped the sign back to CLOSED. I wasn’t normal and it wasn’t a normal world, and pretending wasn’t going to accomplish a thing. It was time to call yet another of my own bluffs. The bookstore lulled me with temporary comfort that I had no right to. I should be anxious, I should be afraid. Fear is a powerful motivator.
I took the inspector’s damp coat and motioned him to a seat near the fire. “Tea? Er, I mean, normal tea?”
He nodded and sat.
I brought him a cup of Earl Grey, took a seat across from him, and sipped at my own.
“Aren’t we the pair?” he said, blowing his cup to cool.
I smiled. We certainly were. It seemed a year ago that he’d dragged me down to the station. Months since he’d accosted me in the alcove with his maps. “It has downsides,” I told him, meaning eating Unseelie. He knew what I meant. It was what he’d come here for.
“Doesn’t everything?”
“It makes you superstrong, but the Fae can’t be killed, Jayne. You can’t engage them. You must be satisfied merely seeing them. If you start trying to kill them, they’ll know you know, and they’ll kill you.”
“How strong does eating it make you? As strong as one of them?”
I considered it. I didn’t know, and told him that.
“So, it might?”
I shrugged. “Regardless, you still can’t kill them. They don’t die. They’re immortal.”
“Why do you think we have prisons, Ms. Lane? We’re not allowed to kill the serial murderers, either.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “I never thought of imprisoning them. I’m not certain anything would hold them.” Except an Unseelie prison woven from the fabric of the Song of Making. “They sift, remember?”
“All of them?”
He’d made another good point. I’d never seen a Rhino-boy sift. I supposed it was possible only the more powerful Fae could do it; the princes and the one-of-a-kinds like the Gray Man.
“Isn’t it worth a try? Maybe we lowly humans can come up with a few surprises. While you do your thing, others can be doing theirs. The word in the street is that something bad is coming, soon. What’s going on?”
I told him about Halloween, and the walls, and what would happen if they came down.
He placed his cup and saucer on the table. “And you would have me go out there defenseless?”
“It has other downsides, too. I’m not sure what they all are, but one of them is that if you get wounded by one of the immortal weapons, you’ll. ” I described Mallucé ’s death for him. The decomposing flesh, the dying body parts.