Dylan leaned on his hand. “This is the type of thing I was talking about earlier. Do you think it could have been someone using the Taint to create a spell?”
“No, it wasn’t the Taint. I know what the Taint feels like. This thing felt odd and somehow directed at me.”
Dylan took on a serious look. “You know, you’re right. If I wanted to attack you, I’d send a blobby thing to point at you.”
I leaned back and shook my head. “You’re hopeless. How anyone promoted you is beyond me.”
He wore the patented Dylan macBain rogue smile as he met my eyes. “Good luck and charm.”
I smirked. “You’re half-right.”
Still smiling, he sipped his port. “Really? Which?”
I chuckled. “I lied. Neither.”
When the bill arrived, Dylan didn’t mention it as he slid a credit card into the check folder. There was no question who would be paying in that restaurant. Loddie waited at the curb when we came out. “Take the car, Con. I’m going to walk back to Auntie Bree’s.”
The sleek black town car idled in the chill night air that surrounded us. “I’m not going to object,” I said.
Dylan laughed, then became serious. “Come to New York, Connor. Name what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”
I searched the sidewalk as though an answer might be there. “The Guild tossed me, Dylan. You’d have to expend a lot of political capital to do that.”
He shrugged. “No, I wouldn’t. I’ve looked at your file, Connor. Your expulsion is on a pretty technical point. The Boston Guild may claim they’re afraid of the liability because of your loss, but they make exceptions to that all the time. Someone wanted you out. There’s a smoking gun lying on a mantel somewhere. Come to New York. We don’t have to abide by Boston’s decisions.”
I gave him a sheepish grin. “I’ll have to think about it. Can I take a rain check on the offer?”
He gave my arm a squeeze. “Of course. Take as long as you need.” He pointed at the car as he walked away. “Enjoy the ride, buddy.”
His maroon coat swayed as he strode up toward the statehouse and turned the corner. Briallen lived a couple of blocks farther. I slid into the passenger seat of the car. “Mind if I sit up front, Loddie?”
His neutral expression didn’t change. “Whatever sir prefers.”
I snorted. No one had deferred to me like that in a long time. As he drove me back to the Weird, I resisted the urge to play with the stereo system. I slumped in the seat and let the heat lull me into a doze.
Dylan could do what he said. He always came through on a promise. I wouldn’t be a full field agent, though. The Boston Guild was right about one thing-my lack of ability would be a liability in the field. I could leave Boston, set myself up as a prime researcher. I would be willing to work for Dylan like I never would work for Keeva macNeve. I’d be able to pay my bills again. Have a nice apartment again. I let myself imagine living that life again, racing around the streets of New York in black cars and taking calls from power brokers. I could have more tales to tell like the ones Dylan and I had spent the evening reliving.
As the car pulled up in front of my building, a depression settled over me. I could do all that, but it would leave too many questions behind me. I had lost my abilities in Boston. I had lost my memory here. I had lost a way of life I enjoyed. If I went to New York, I would always wonder if I’d walked away from finding the answer to what had happened. Maybe I’d even be giving up the chance to figure out why it happened. It was tempting, yet…
But then there would be Dylan. I left New York because of things that happened involving him, and he knew that. Despite the evening and the ease in which we fell into our old familiarity, I didn’t know if either of us could work with the other again. And if I felt that, he had to be wondering the same thing. We hadn’t been partners for nothing. We had the same concerns and drives. Well, up to a point. And that was the point I left.
“Sir? Would you like me to take you elsewhere?” said Loddie.
I had been woolgathering while the car waited at the curb. I looked up at the crumbling facade of my building. “No thanks, Loddie. I think I’ll stay home for now.”
I let myself out, and he drove away. I felt rooted to the sidewalk as I stared at my desolate street. I pulled out my cell phone and hit speed dial. It picked up on the second ring.
“Hi. I really need to see you right now,” I said.
“I’ll be right there,” Meryl said.
CHAPTER 10
Sunlight crept into the living room, spreading across me as I sprawled on the futon. Meryl unconsciously moved into shadow. As a die-hard moon daughter, she preferred to revitalize her essence at night.
She looked at me intently, curling sideways. “So, you’ve told me what you loved about New York. You’ve told me what you love about Boston. But you’ve avoided what happened with Dylan. I think we’ve come to the point where you let it out.”
I stretched and rolled off the futon. I turned away from her, knowing full well physically turning away was more evasion. I refilled our coffee mugs without speaking, putting sugar and cream in mine. Meryl took hers black. I handed her the mug and sat in the chair opposite the one she had occupied most of the night.
I sipped the coffee. “This isn’t quite the way I pictured you in my apartment first thing in the morning.”
She grinned. “Really? It’s exactly what I pictured.”
I shook my head, smiling, and sipped the coffee again. “Coffee’s good, huh?”
Meryl propped her feet on the edge of the futon, her big, chunky thigh-high boots scuffing the sheets. “And the weather’s lovely. Get on with it, Avoidance Boy.”
I sighed. “Have you ever seen a Staten Island Ferry?”
She cocked her head at me. “Nope.”
“They go back and forth from Staten Island to the Battery in lower Manhattan twenty-four hours a day. They’re huge. The larger boats can carry six thousand passengers. The Pride Wind was one of the smaller ones, only about three thousand five hundred capacity. Still big.”
Meryl dropped her feet to the floor and straightened in her chair. “You were there that day?”
I nodded. Everyone knew the Pride Wind and what happened. It was a major disaster averted, but still a disaster. “Dylan and I were on Governor’s Island that morning running security for the diplomatic reception that never happened. We were checking the perimeter of the island when we saw the first explosion on the ferry. A Danann fairy from the Washington Guildhouse was with us, and he flew us out.”
Meryl’s jaw fell open. “Wait! You were on the ferry?”
I let my head fall back against the chair. “Yep. The records were sealed because of national security. I’m not supposed to talk about it. Anyway, the Danann dropped us on the stern, then went back to get help. We never saw him again.
“At first, we didn’t know what had happened. Remember, this was ten years ago. No one really thought ‘terrorists’ then. It was in the backs of our minds, though, because of our security job for the diplomatic reception. We didn’t know the reception and the attack were connected until later. The terrorists intended to blow up the ferry in view of the reception because they knew news crews would be filming. The reception was supposed to be outside, and the attack was supposed to happen as the ferry passed, but the terrorists screwed up their communications.
“After the initial explosion, the captain stopped the ferry. Dylan and I guessed something had blown in the hold. People panicked, pushing their way to the port side to get away from the smoke. We tried to keep things calm. We did sendings among the passengers to find more fey to help, but very few were on board that morning. Dylan decided to go to the bridge to find out what was going on. I stayed behind to keep the passengers away from the smoke coming from the starboard side. Then the second explosion went off on the port side.