Melissa Marr - Fragile Eternity

If she left him, it didn’t matter if he was healthy. And if she didn’t leave him, he wasn’t strong enough to be in her life and be safe. And even if he was strong enough, he’d grow old and die and she’d move on.

The books were all over the room. None of them had answers.

Everything is wrong.

He walked into the kitchen.

It’s useless.

Every dish he owned, except the two teacups and the teapot Aislinn had bought him, went smashing into the wall. Then, he punched the wall until his knuckles were bloodied. It didn’t help, but it felt a helluva lot more satisfying than anything else he could think to do just then.

Come evening, Seth had cleaned away the evidence of his loss of temper. He’d reordered the house and his feelings. Being without her wasn’t something he wanted to even consider. There had to be an answer—but he didn’t have one.

He’d find it, though. He wasn’t going to lose everything.

Not now. Not ever.

He sent Aislinn a text—“need space. ttyl”—and then paced around the house. Its size didn’t usually bother him, but today it felt constricting. He didn’t want to go out, to see faeries and pretend all was well. He knew what he didn’t want, what he did want—everything but how to make it happen. Until he came up with some sort of a plan, being around faeries—seeing what he wasn’t—felt like cruelty.

So when one of the court guards knocked on the door to ask if Seth was staying in or going out, Seth said, “Go home, Skelley.”

“You sure you don’t want to go grab a drink? Or we could come inside…not for long, but in shifts…”

“Space, man. That’s what I need tonight,” Seth said.

Skelley nodded. He stood there for a moment longer, though. “The girls didn’t mean harm. They just”—he paused as if the words he needed weren’t quite familiar—“are fond of you. It’s like your serpent.”

“Like Boomer?”

“He makes you happy by his presence?”

“Yeah.” Seth cracked a grin at that. “Boomer being here makes me happy.”

“You make the girls happy with your presence.” Skelley looked so earnest that it was hard to find him anything but kind as he stood in the iron-heavy railroad yard, even though he likened Seth to a pet snake. “They were worried you’d go away like Niall did.”

Seth wasn’t sure if he should feel comforted that Skelley was trying to soothe him or insulted that he was being compared to a pet boa constrictor.

Or both.

Mostly, he was amused. Carefully keeping his amusement from his face, he gave Skelley a nod. “That is…interesting to know.”

The exceptionally thin guard had a gentle streak. Most of the guards wouldn’t come to the door talking about feelings. Skelley was an anomaly. “You are liked in the court,” he added. “Our queen is happy by your being with her.”

“I know that.” Seth lifted a hand in a wave at the other guards at the edge of the yard. “But right now, I need to crash. Go relax or whatever.”

“We’ll be here.”

“I know.” Seth closed the door.

A few restless hours later, he’d tried to sleep. It didn’t work: he was too keyed up. He tried to burn energy: push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups on the bar in the walkway. It was futile. I need air.

He looked at his clock: just past midnight. The Crow’s Nest was still open. In a matter of minutes he was dressed and lacing his boots. His cell buzzed as another text came in. He looked at it: “CYT?”

Am I ready to see her tomorrow?

Usually, it wasn’t a question. He didn’t think it had ever been a question. Would she know about the park? Would she ask about Niall? Would she want to talk about Keenan?

He wasn’t sure he’d be ready to deal with any of that. He wanted a plan, a way to reach Sorcha, a way to make things better; talking to Aislinn about everything that wasn’t right didn’t feel like the best answer. He didn’t respond to her message. He wanted to; he wanted to call her right then. Instead, he laid the phone down on the counter.

If I don’t have it, I can’t call or answer.

Resolved, he walked toward the Crow’s Nest. He saw three guards following him, but he refused to acknowledge them. The knowledge that he was babysat so incessantly was more than he could handle just then.

One guard came inside the Crow’s Nest, found it free of faeries, and left. Seth knew that they watched both doors. That was the closest to distance he’d be getting.

It’s not enough.

After almost an hour sitting by himself, Seth admitted that he was sulking. He hadn’t really been thinking about a plan. He’d seen friends, people who didn’t come around as much since he and Aislinn had started dating, but he didn’t talk to them.

Damali was there again, not singing, but just hanging out. He caught her eye and smiled, and she came over with two beers, hers mostly empty already. “You free now?”

He shook his head. “Just for conversation, D.”

“Damn.” She whistled. “I thought they were screwing with me. The scrawny chick or the surly guy?”

Seth took the beer she held out. “She’s not scrawny.”

Damali laughed. “Whatever. She treat you right?”

Does she? He took a drink and avoided the question. “You sounded good the other night.”

The look Damali gave him wasn’t judgmental or pitying. It was very…human. “That wasn’t even close to a subtle dodge. You need anything?”

“Just company.” Seth had known Damali long enough that he didn’t need to pretend. “Things are weird, and I needed air tonight.”

She gave him an assessing gaze. “ That is why I don’t do the relationship thing. You used to get it. No getting caught in someone’s strings. No regrets. We had fun when you weren’t like this.”

“I’m happy being tangled up this time, D.”

“Yeah. You look like it.” She drained her bottle. “Want another?”

When he left a few beers later—without Damali—Seth wasn’t in any better spirits. If anything, he felt worse. All the down and none of the buzz. Drinking didn’t help. It never had.

As he walked, he wondered if he was about to go from worse to really awful. The guards he’d been so eager to leave behind were gone—but not at his request. The raven-faery who’d attacked Niall was following Seth instead, and she wasn’t pretending to be stealthy. She walked close enough behind him that he could hear her singing battle hymns to herself.

He knew she should frighten him, and on some visceral level, he was afraid. He didn’t have guards or his cell phone. No sense worrying about what I can’t change. He stepped into the railyard. The tracks and abandoned cars were the ideal security for a mortal dealing with Faerie. His home sat on a small lot at the edge of the railyard. Most faeries stopped at the railroad tracks; this one didn’t. She followed him almost to his door. A few yards from the house were wooden chairs he kept in his garden.

He pulled out his key and turned to look at the raven-headed faery.

She sat down in one of the chairs. “Sit outside with me, Mortal?”

“I’m not sure that would be wise.” Seth unlocked the door, but he didn’t go inside.

She tilted her head far to the side to peer at him. It was a very inhuman gesture. “Perhaps it could be.”

“Perhaps.” He stayed on his stairs, just outside the now open door. He’d only need to take one step to be inside. Would it matter? After how fast he’d seen her move when she attacked Niall, Seth was near certain that he couldn’t move inside before she reached him—and that she was strong enough to come in anyhow. He considered his options: there weren’t any. If Niall himself had struggled with her, a mortal stood no chance.