Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
The aunts are significantly less bossy now that I have killed a Ripper and brought down a building. They are also grieving the death of their sister. In the end, they are simply helpful and accommodating, creating stories that cover up the bizarre events of the day that have been witnessed by many.
Before they leave, they instruct us to go to bed as normal and to expect that Nana will pass away in her sleep of a cardiac event. They will phone it in for us, pretending to be Miranda. In the meantime, my grandmother’s endless sleep continues.
Lucas follows me upstairs. “Do you want to see her?” he asks. “I can go with you if you’d like.”
I shake my head. “She isn’t there anymore,” I answer. “Just in here,” I put a finger on my forehead, “and here.” I move my finger to my heart. “And somehow I think if I need her, she will be with me.”
He nods and we find ourselves standing awkwardly in front of one another in the dark hallway.
“Come to my room,” I finally say, taking his hand.
Lucas shifts from one foot to the other. “Perhaps I should just, you know, go to the living room.”
I laugh. “What do you think? I’m going to jump you?”
He runs a hand over his mouth, embarrassed.
“We need to talk,” I explain, still laughing. “Get over yourself.”
I drop his hand and let him follow me into my room so he can’t accuse me of trying to lure him to my bed. Kicking off my boots, I stretch out on the stack of quilts aware for the first time of how exhausted I am, physically and mentally. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done, begin to sap my energy as my head hits the pillow, but there is so much we still need to talk about.
Lucas hangs back.
“Seriously, Lucas. I know you have your code of ethics and all, but come up here. You must be exhausted, too, and we have a lot to discuss before I’m too tired to speak.” I dig inside for a small spark of magic and pull it to the surface, recharging.
He hesitates, then steps forward and sits on the edge of the bed.
“My code of ethics says you need to take off your shoes.”
He does and then swings his legs up onto the mattress.
I shove a pillow behind him, rolling my eyes. “Make yourself comfortable.”
But he isn’t and I can see that. I frown. Maybe I have seriously overstepped, making assumptions about what he means about the two of us being together. Maybe that kiss was just a thanks for saving his life or a thoughtless reaction to coming back from the dead. I frown and make sure to leave a decent space between us.
The two of us sit silent, awkward.
Lucas clears his throat. “I think I may have taken advantage of a very serious situation. It was very thoughtless of me,” he says. He keeps his eyes on the quilt, running a bit of the material between his thumb and forefinger.
“What the hell are you talking about, Watcher?”
Somehow my rudeness seems to make him more comfortable. He grins.
“I kissed you. I made assumptions, assumptions about our…”
I glance at his aura: orange hormone, red affection, and yellow anxiety, swirl like a storm cloud.
“You know I know what you are thinking, right Lucas? Just say it.”
“I think I assumed you felt something for me that perhaps you did not. I apologize. I shouldn’t have touched you without your permission.”
The fact that I find his medieval sensibilities downright adorable disgusts me, but I push it aside and try to enjoy the swirly feeling in my stomach.
“You know I would have destroyed you if I didn’t want you touching me and you did it anyway, right? I’ve hurt a couple of human guys in very human ways for a lot less than that.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You were OK with it, then?” he asks.
“I was infinitely more than OK, Lucas. It might not have been the most romantic choice of times, but you were just back from the dead and the building was threatening to crush us. Sometimes you just have to go for it.”
I decide a demonstration might help clarify. I turn and push up on my knees, lowering my face to his. When he lifts his head toward me, I lean in and kiss him once, twice, more. He reaches over and lifts me by the waist so that I straddle him. I take it as a personal challenge and turn my head to get a better angle to deepen the kiss. Just when things are getting really good, Lucas’ knightly instincts kick in and I can feel him pulling back.
“Seriously?” I grumble.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” he says, slightly breathless. “I don’t have much experience with these things, and I feel like I should probably slow down.”
I make a displeased sound but respect his wishes and climb off his lap. I won’t say that I don’t stretch out on the mattress and let my shirt ride up enough to expose a strip of skin. There is some magic, after all, that is not paranormal.
“So you want me?” he asks.
I snort. “What?”
“Here. You want me here.”
“You neither disgust nor disappoint me,” I say. “In my experience, that is rare. So yes, I want you - here.”
He nods and shifts uncomfortably. I smirk up at the ceiling.
Then I remember what I actually wanted to say and stop grinning like an idiot. I push myself back up.
“But we do need to talk,” I say. “I’m concerned. I...you said that you would ask not to continue this cycle, this Watcher thing you’re in. I prevented that, without your permission.”
“You are concerned that I would rather be dead than alive?”
“I am.”
“I was tired when I said that, Tristan, and not entirely certain that things would work out as they did. This cycle of watching, watching Seekers die or move on and leave me behind. It had become rather...oppressive, I guess. I have had the honor of watching over many Seekers, some of whom I liked, some I disliked. Either way, it didn’t impact my job. But you. In you I see something special. You are caring and tough at the same time. Vulnerable but sharp. The power calls to you but I don’t believe it will corrupt you. I found myself...attached. More so than normal. And the thought of you not surviving - it made me realize how so very tired I was.”
I look at him, willing to confess his feelings so freely when I have spent most of my life burying them down.
“And I wanted you here with me, so I brought you back, without considering how you felt, without considering the repercussions. I’m not sure,” I squeeze my hands together in my lap. “I’m not sure you can just bring someone back from the dead and not expect there to be some consequences. I’ve fooled with the natural order of things.” I look over at him. “I mean, no lie, I’m not sorry.”
He nods and smiles, leaning over to kiss me once.
“For now, the only consequence is that I am here with you, ready to battle another day. Why don’t we take things as they come? I have no regrets about what you did. I consider it a gift.”
I smile in return. “Fair enough,” I say. “And now the other thing.”
“How can there be another thing?” he asks. “I died. You brought me back to life. Everyone made it out safely. You killed the Ripper. It would seem to me that everything is wrapped up quite nicely.”
“Rule number one of life at the Byrnes’ is always expect a complication. Ask Graham. He’s quite familiar.”
“And this complication?”
I explain what Eoin told me, about his not being the most important of all the Rippers, that that honor belongs to my mother, the one I had been led to believe died so long ago.
“What do you think?” I ask. “Was he lying just to mess with me, or is this a thing?”
Lucas sighs, looking off past the foot of the bed.
“It is entirely possible,” he answers. “In fact, I would say that he was most likely telling you the truth.”
I frown. “You know what that means, Lucas?”
He does, but is polite enough not to say it. “It means that my own mother was willing to let one of her minions kill me.”
“Perhaps she believed you would take him up on his offer of sharing power. It could be why he was so insistent.”
“He didn’t seem too insistent in that playroom of his.”
“No, but he hadn’t gotten around to killing you. And then there is the fact that she was most likely in the vicinity and yet she allowed you to kill someone of Eoin’s obvious skill level. I do believe you killed him with your own abilities, but she, in all of her strength, could have intervened and kept it from happening.”
“You think she is stronger than I am?” That sounds incredibly dangerous.
“At least for now. She has infinitely more experiences, years to hone her skills. You’ve literally been in possession of your power for a few days. She has the advantage.”
There is no arguing with that logic.
“So what now, Watcher?”
Lucas raises an eyebrow and I suddenly get the impression that what is next has nothing to do with my story. It’s nice to have my heart pounding with something other than terror.
“I suppose,” Lucas begins sitting over me. “That I just.” He kisses my neck. “Keep.” A kiss below my ear. “Watching.” It’s the last coherent thought I have for quite some time.
The aunts are significantly less bossy now that I have killed a Ripper and brought down a building. They are also grieving the death of their sister. In the end, they are simply helpful and accommodating, creating stories that cover up the bizarre events of the day that have been witnessed by many.
Before they leave, they instruct us to go to bed as normal and to expect that Nana will pass away in her sleep of a cardiac event. They will phone it in for us, pretending to be Miranda. In the meantime, my grandmother’s endless sleep continues.
Lucas follows me upstairs. “Do you want to see her?” he asks. “I can go with you if you’d like.”
I shake my head. “She isn’t there anymore,” I answer. “Just in here,” I put a finger on my forehead, “and here.” I move my finger to my heart. “And somehow I think if I need her, she will be with me.”
He nods and we find ourselves standing awkwardly in front of one another in the dark hallway.
“Come to my room,” I finally say, taking his hand.
Lucas shifts from one foot to the other. “Perhaps I should just, you know, go to the living room.”
I laugh. “What do you think? I’m going to jump you?”
He runs a hand over his mouth, embarrassed.
“We need to talk,” I explain, still laughing. “Get over yourself.”
I drop his hand and let him follow me into my room so he can’t accuse me of trying to lure him to my bed. Kicking off my boots, I stretch out on the stack of quilts aware for the first time of how exhausted I am, physically and mentally. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done, begin to sap my energy as my head hits the pillow, but there is so much we still need to talk about.
Lucas hangs back.
“Seriously, Lucas. I know you have your code of ethics and all, but come up here. You must be exhausted, too, and we have a lot to discuss before I’m too tired to speak.” I dig inside for a small spark of magic and pull it to the surface, recharging.
He hesitates, then steps forward and sits on the edge of the bed.
“My code of ethics says you need to take off your shoes.”
He does and then swings his legs up onto the mattress.
I shove a pillow behind him, rolling my eyes. “Make yourself comfortable.”
But he isn’t and I can see that. I frown. Maybe I have seriously overstepped, making assumptions about what he means about the two of us being together. Maybe that kiss was just a thanks for saving his life or a thoughtless reaction to coming back from the dead. I frown and make sure to leave a decent space between us.
The two of us sit silent, awkward.
Lucas clears his throat. “I think I may have taken advantage of a very serious situation. It was very thoughtless of me,” he says. He keeps his eyes on the quilt, running a bit of the material between his thumb and forefinger.
“What the hell are you talking about, Watcher?”
Somehow my rudeness seems to make him more comfortable. He grins.
“I kissed you. I made assumptions, assumptions about our…”
I glance at his aura: orange hormone, red affection, and yellow anxiety, swirl like a storm cloud.
“You know I know what you are thinking, right Lucas? Just say it.”
“I think I assumed you felt something for me that perhaps you did not. I apologize. I shouldn’t have touched you without your permission.”
The fact that I find his medieval sensibilities downright adorable disgusts me, but I push it aside and try to enjoy the swirly feeling in my stomach.
“You know I would have destroyed you if I didn’t want you touching me and you did it anyway, right? I’ve hurt a couple of human guys in very human ways for a lot less than that.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You were OK with it, then?” he asks.
“I was infinitely more than OK, Lucas. It might not have been the most romantic choice of times, but you were just back from the dead and the building was threatening to crush us. Sometimes you just have to go for it.”
I decide a demonstration might help clarify. I turn and push up on my knees, lowering my face to his. When he lifts his head toward me, I lean in and kiss him once, twice, more. He reaches over and lifts me by the waist so that I straddle him. I take it as a personal challenge and turn my head to get a better angle to deepen the kiss. Just when things are getting really good, Lucas’ knightly instincts kick in and I can feel him pulling back.
“Seriously?” I grumble.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” he says, slightly breathless. “I don’t have much experience with these things, and I feel like I should probably slow down.”
I make a displeased sound but respect his wishes and climb off his lap. I won’t say that I don’t stretch out on the mattress and let my shirt ride up enough to expose a strip of skin. There is some magic, after all, that is not paranormal.
“So you want me?” he asks.
I snort. “What?”
“Here. You want me here.”
“You neither disgust nor disappoint me,” I say. “In my experience, that is rare. So yes, I want you - here.”
He nods and shifts uncomfortably. I smirk up at the ceiling.
Then I remember what I actually wanted to say and stop grinning like an idiot. I push myself back up.
“But we do need to talk,” I say. “I’m concerned. I...you said that you would ask not to continue this cycle, this Watcher thing you’re in. I prevented that, without your permission.”
“You are concerned that I would rather be dead than alive?”
“I am.”
“I was tired when I said that, Tristan, and not entirely certain that things would work out as they did. This cycle of watching, watching Seekers die or move on and leave me behind. It had become rather...oppressive, I guess. I have had the honor of watching over many Seekers, some of whom I liked, some I disliked. Either way, it didn’t impact my job. But you. In you I see something special. You are caring and tough at the same time. Vulnerable but sharp. The power calls to you but I don’t believe it will corrupt you. I found myself...attached. More so than normal. And the thought of you not surviving - it made me realize how so very tired I was.”
I look at him, willing to confess his feelings so freely when I have spent most of my life burying them down.
“And I wanted you here with me, so I brought you back, without considering how you felt, without considering the repercussions. I’m not sure,” I squeeze my hands together in my lap. “I’m not sure you can just bring someone back from the dead and not expect there to be some consequences. I’ve fooled with the natural order of things.” I look over at him. “I mean, no lie, I’m not sorry.”
He nods and smiles, leaning over to kiss me once.
“For now, the only consequence is that I am here with you, ready to battle another day. Why don’t we take things as they come? I have no regrets about what you did. I consider it a gift.”
I smile in return. “Fair enough,” I say. “And now the other thing.”
“How can there be another thing?” he asks. “I died. You brought me back to life. Everyone made it out safely. You killed the Ripper. It would seem to me that everything is wrapped up quite nicely.”
“Rule number one of life at the Byrnes’ is always expect a complication. Ask Graham. He’s quite familiar.”
“And this complication?”
I explain what Eoin told me, about his not being the most important of all the Rippers, that that honor belongs to my mother, the one I had been led to believe died so long ago.
“What do you think?” I ask. “Was he lying just to mess with me, or is this a thing?”
Lucas sighs, looking off past the foot of the bed.
“It is entirely possible,” he answers. “In fact, I would say that he was most likely telling you the truth.”
I frown. “You know what that means, Lucas?”
He does, but is polite enough not to say it. “It means that my own mother was willing to let one of her minions kill me.”
“Perhaps she believed you would take him up on his offer of sharing power. It could be why he was so insistent.”
“He didn’t seem too insistent in that playroom of his.”
“No, but he hadn’t gotten around to killing you. And then there is the fact that she was most likely in the vicinity and yet she allowed you to kill someone of Eoin’s obvious skill level. I do believe you killed him with your own abilities, but she, in all of her strength, could have intervened and kept it from happening.”
“You think she is stronger than I am?” That sounds incredibly dangerous.
“At least for now. She has infinitely more experiences, years to hone her skills. You’ve literally been in possession of your power for a few days. She has the advantage.”
There is no arguing with that logic.
“So what now, Watcher?”
Lucas raises an eyebrow and I suddenly get the impression that what is next has nothing to do with my story. It’s nice to have my heart pounding with something other than terror.
“I suppose,” Lucas begins sitting over me. “That I just.” He kisses my neck. “Keep.” A kiss below my ear. “Watching.” It’s the last coherent thought I have for quite some time.
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