threat? Uglier than losing my job because my clients, who I thought
were friends, turned on me?” She hadn’t meant for that to come out, but it did and
he took it in, emotion flooding his features for a brief moment until he hardened
again.
That’s when the tussle happened.
A wall of protesters surged forward and Molly nearly lost her balance. She stumbled
back into Faine, who shored her up, allowing her to keep her feet. Gage snarled something,
shoving forward. The magick flowed from him, surrounding her, bringing the hair on
her arms to stand.
The crowd was screaming stuff. She didn’t register most of it, but the tone was enough
to convey their hate and fear. Molly dimly registered that things were being thrown,
but not what. She kept her head down.
They held signs with crude and hateful words. Some used the signs to batter the group
as they tried to make their way through. She should have gone out the back door like
they suggested.
The sidewalk was full. People spilled out into the street. Cars screeched to a halt
to keep from hitting people. Horns sounded.
Chaos ruled, and for what?
Molly’s brain shut down everything but essential functions like keeping her feet and
letting Faine and Gage get her through the crowd and to the car.
Faine shoved her in and followed, shielding her with his body. Gage scooted across
the front to the driver’s side, cursing as he jammed the key into the ignition and
started the car. They were surrounded by protesters banging on the hood and windows
until Gage did some sort of magick stuff and they parted enough for them to get free.
They drove away quickly, Faine on his phone with the woman who owned the restaurant
telling her they were sending some people over to guard the front entrance.
Molly stared out the window and barricaded the walls around her emotions. They trembled
and she whispered in her head to hold it together until she got back to her hotel
room.
The rage radiated from Gage as he drove. Faine made calls and gave orders, punctuated
by short directives from Gage as he went. Neither of them said anything to her, which
was good because she was beyond speaking anyway.
Back at the hotel Faine turned to her. “Hold on, I’m coming around to get your door.”
She nodded, numb, her hands loose in her lap.
Gage turned in the driver’s seat to look at her. “Are you all right?”
If she spoke she might laugh. Or worse, cry. So she nodded again.
“Did you get hit with anything? Harmed in any way?”
In any way? A laugh bubbled up. One of those not-quite-sane laughs and she choked
it back, shaking her head and scrambling out when Faine opened her door.
One foot in front of the other and she got to the elevator and then down the hall.
She managed to blurt a thank you to Faine on his way out of her room to be sure everything
was fine.
He paused, clearly about to speak, but must have seen the panic in her eyes and touched
her shoulder instead, before leaving.
She locked up and methodically took her hair down, throwing the pins across the room
so hard they pinged off various surfaces. Her watch followed, whether it broke or
not when she threw it she didn’t know. Or care.
One shoe knocked over a lamp, then the other better aimed at the closed bathroom door.
Gage knocked on the door. “Are you all right, Molly?”
Fuck no. She wasn’t all right.
“Fine,” she nearly snarled as she headed toward her bathroom, pulling her clothes
off as she went.
The nearly scalding water filled the room with steam. Enough that she didn’t have
to look at herself when she got into the shower. Enough that she wasn’t sure where
the tears began and the water ended.
She didn’t get death threats! She didn’t have people screaming that she was a demon
from hell. Didn’t get things thrown at her. Even when she’d dealt with the worst kinds
of scandals she hadn’t seen this sort of violence aimed at her.
She
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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Brenda Sinclair
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