Alex Bledsoe - Wake of the Bloody Angel

Now I said nothing.

“That’s why I never spent any of the money. I just stuck it away. I live on what I earn here. I lie awake at night sometimes, thinking about what all that gold could buy, then I remember how much blood is on it.”

I still said nothing.

“I don’t know what the right thing to do in this situation is. I never have. I ran. I hid. I loved the wrong man and made a terrible mistake because of it, so I don’t let anyone get close, just in case I have another terrible mistake in me. I keep things to myself when I probably shouldn’t, because that’s how you keep people from getting close. Beyond that, Eddie, I haven’t got a clue. Does the past ever go away?”

A little jolt went through me. I’d done the same thing after Janet was murdered, although it took me years to admit my own culpability in her death. You could make the case that I was still doing it, since I’d left behind my Arentian heritage for good. Then I realized Jane Argo had done the same thing. And in his own way, Duncan Tew.

And Black Edward.

Two Edwards, both from Arentia, both of us sent running from our pasts by horrible events that were, at some level, our own faults. He loved Angelina the way I loved Janet, and that love led us both to make terrible decisions we could never make right. He hid from the world and wallowed in his guilt, kidnapping some poor woman to take Angie’s place. I became a mercenary and killed people for money.

And now I was berating Angelina, who had been my friend for as long as I’d known her, whom I’d trust with my life with no hesitation, for doing exactly the same thing I and everyone else in this case had done.

I went around my desk and took her hand. She stood, I put my arms around her and kissed her. I held her close against me, marveling at the way she felt. When the kiss ended, she stayed very close and looked up into my eyes.

“What was that for?” she said in a voice so quiet, so soft that I could hardly believe it was her.

“I love you, Angelina,” I said. “Not like Liz, but I do.”

She put a hand on my chest. “Liz wouldn’t understand this.”

“She’d understand, but she probably wouldn’t approve. Hell, she’s jealous of Jane Argo.”

Angelina giggled, then said, “We’ll keep it between us, and never speak of it after this.” She was so close, I could feel her breath on my face. “Do you remember the first time we met? I kissed you then.”

“I remember.”

And she kissed me the way she had that night. When our lips parted, she said, “Anything?”

I knew that I wasn’t leaving Neceda. She knew it, too. “Still not. You?”

“Not a thing. Come on, sword jockey, I’ll make you breakfast. And I won’t add this one to your tab.” She threaded her fingers through mine and led me out of my office.

She released my hand at the bottom of the stairs and went into the kitchen, where Rudy was already working his culinary magic. A few early risers sat at the bar, nursing cups of hot tea. I still needed to tell her about Duncan’s offer, but that could wait. I couldn’t imagine her slipping into the role of belated mother and grandmother, but perhaps some of that bloodsoaked gold in her attic might find its way anonymously to him. Angelina, Jane Argo, Dylan Clift, Duncan Tew, and I all chose badly for love and suffered the consequences. So far, I was the only one Fate had granted a real do-over. This might be the start of one for Angelina; I’d do what I could to at least make her see the opportunity. But I knew the answer to her question, and I suspected she did as well: The past never goes away.

“Hey, handsome,” Liz said, breaking my reverie. She sat down on the stool beside me at the bar, leaned over, and kissed my cheek. Quietly she asked, “How’d it go?”

“As well as it could have.”

She smiled, squeezed my hand, and lay her head on my shoulder. I hoped that someday Angelina, Jane, Clift, and Duncan all reached this same sort of peace. And wherever he sailed now, I sincerely wished it for the other Edward.