doesn’t know about the choice I made in Mab’s trailer, when
Penelope offered me the perfect way out of all of this. If I had let her win,
if I had just stayed in the trailer until the fight was over, I could have been
free. Free to live with Kingston and Melody. Free to be normal. I almost
let her, then. After all, my contract was for eternity, just like hers, and
seeing the deadness in her eyes was a concrete reminder of just how long
eternity really is.
His finger nudges my chin up until I meet his eyes. His irises are dark
as mocha and, right now, just as intense.
“You’re not a suspect,” he says again. “I know you.”
I try to look away, but his eyes lock me in place. I know you. The
trouble is, I have no doubt he knows me better than I know myself. And I’m
still convinced that that knowledge could put us all in danger.
* * *
“What
am I?” I asked.
Kingston and I were curled up in my tiny twin bed, the sheets tangled
around us. Only a week had passed since Lilith’s porcelain-doll facade
shattered and her demon-self, Kassia, set our show aflame. The new troupe
members had acclimated themselves at a frighteningly quick pace, and everyone
felt like one happy whole. The last few nights had brought bonfires with the
tent crew and drinking games with the new Scandinavian acrobats. Everyone was
“bonding.” Especially Melody and her new love interest, Sara. They seemed to be
bonding on every available surface.
Kingston considered the question for a long time. I tilted my head and
looked up at his jaw, refusing to move from my comfortable drape across his
naked chest. Of everyone in the troupe, he was the person I trusted most, the
one person who seemed to have a grip on what was going on. Even Mel was in the
dark about what had happened that fateful night of Kassia’s madness.
Which meant if anyone besides Mab knew about me, it would be him.
“You’re you,” he finally said. I groaned. It wasn’t like I expected
anything else; we’d had this conversation numerous times already.
He chuckled and ran a hand through my hair, massaging the base of my
skull. If I were a cat, I’d have been purring in spite of his lame non-answer.
“That’s not helpful,” I muttered. “You didn’t see it. I was glowing .”
His chest rose and fell as he sighed.
“Mab doesn’t tell me everything, you know,” he finally said. Again, it
wasn’t really an answer, but I could tell from the tone of his voice that it
was the only answer I was going to get.
“But what if I’m dangerous?” I asked. It was so easy to remember that
power, the way it felt to burn the fey with a blinding touch during the battle,
even if I hadn’t been able to summon it again. It felt like ecstasy.
“You’re about the least dangerous person here,” he said. He nuzzled
the top of my head. “Mab’s top hat is more dangerous than you.”
I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut.
I wanted him to be right. But I couldn’t help it; while everyone else
in the troupe was bonding together, forming new friendships, and drinking
themselves into a unified oblivion, I felt like I was even more an outsider
than before, when I’d thought I was just a normal mortal.
Because after the battle and the fire, I knew I was something else.
And that unknown something scared the hell out of me.
* * *
Kingston
leaves the hill a little while later to go help with teardown. I stay on the
hill, partly because I’m not actually of any use down there and partly because
I’m still frustrated with his avoidance of any topic related to the murders. Am
I seriously the only one here who’s worried about the Summer Court attacking
again? Am I really the only one getting an ulcer from the idea that next time
it’s going to be a hell of a lot more than an effigy set ablaze? I take deep
breaths and try to calm my nerves, watching as the floodlights come on and the
tent is slowly taken apart, panel by panel.
I’m actually starting to feel a little relaxed
Penelope offered me the perfect way out of all of this. If I had let her win,
if I had just stayed in the trailer until the fight was over, I could have been
free. Free to live with Kingston and Melody. Free to be normal. I almost
let her, then. After all, my contract was for eternity, just like hers, and
seeing the deadness in her eyes was a concrete reminder of just how long
eternity really is.
His finger nudges my chin up until I meet his eyes. His irises are dark
as mocha and, right now, just as intense.
“You’re not a suspect,” he says again. “I know you.”
I try to look away, but his eyes lock me in place. I know you. The
trouble is, I have no doubt he knows me better than I know myself. And I’m
still convinced that that knowledge could put us all in danger.
* * *
“What
am I?” I asked.
Kingston and I were curled up in my tiny twin bed, the sheets tangled
around us. Only a week had passed since Lilith’s porcelain-doll facade
shattered and her demon-self, Kassia, set our show aflame. The new troupe
members had acclimated themselves at a frighteningly quick pace, and everyone
felt like one happy whole. The last few nights had brought bonfires with the
tent crew and drinking games with the new Scandinavian acrobats. Everyone was
“bonding.” Especially Melody and her new love interest, Sara. They seemed to be
bonding on every available surface.
Kingston considered the question for a long time. I tilted my head and
looked up at his jaw, refusing to move from my comfortable drape across his
naked chest. Of everyone in the troupe, he was the person I trusted most, the
one person who seemed to have a grip on what was going on. Even Mel was in the
dark about what had happened that fateful night of Kassia’s madness.
Which meant if anyone besides Mab knew about me, it would be him.
“You’re you,” he finally said. I groaned. It wasn’t like I expected
anything else; we’d had this conversation numerous times already.
He chuckled and ran a hand through my hair, massaging the base of my
skull. If I were a cat, I’d have been purring in spite of his lame non-answer.
“That’s not helpful,” I muttered. “You didn’t see it. I was glowing .”
His chest rose and fell as he sighed.
“Mab doesn’t tell me everything, you know,” he finally said. Again, it
wasn’t really an answer, but I could tell from the tone of his voice that it
was the only answer I was going to get.
“But what if I’m dangerous?” I asked. It was so easy to remember that
power, the way it felt to burn the fey with a blinding touch during the battle,
even if I hadn’t been able to summon it again. It felt like ecstasy.
“You’re about the least dangerous person here,” he said. He nuzzled
the top of my head. “Mab’s top hat is more dangerous than you.”
I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut.
I wanted him to be right. But I couldn’t help it; while everyone else
in the troupe was bonding together, forming new friendships, and drinking
themselves into a unified oblivion, I felt like I was even more an outsider
than before, when I’d thought I was just a normal mortal.
Because after the battle and the fire, I knew I was something else.
And that unknown something scared the hell out of me.
* * *
Kingston
leaves the hill a little while later to go help with teardown. I stay on the
hill, partly because I’m not actually of any use down there and partly because
I’m still frustrated with his avoidance of any topic related to the murders. Am
I seriously the only one here who’s worried about the Summer Court attacking
again? Am I really the only one getting an ulcer from the idea that next time
it’s going to be a hell of a lot more than an effigy set ablaze? I take deep
breaths and try to calm my nerves, watching as the floodlights come on and the
tent is slowly taken apart, panel by panel.
I’m actually starting to feel a little relaxed
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