Dad talked about his work, and each unconscious pause told me he was waiting for my mother to chime in, responding to his theories. I did my best to fill her shoes, but I wasn’t sure I succeeded. It seemed improbable that I could ever invent anything that resulted in time travel. Around nine, my dad went to his room and shut the door. That was my cue to do the same.
In the master suite, I locked up and called Kian. “Come get me.”
He did.
Bittersweet memories assailed me, the first time he traveled with me like this. Tonight we could go anywhere and who would punish us? “Is there anything you want to see? Anywhere you want to go? There’s nothing preventing us now.”
To my surprise, he shook his head. “I only want to be with you. I’d run if I thought it would do any good, but they can track me through the watch. The thing only comes off if I die or Wedderburn removes it.”
“We could stop your heart.” I was only half kidding.
Weirdly, he appeared to consider it before shaking his head. “If you failed to bring me back, it’d eat you up. You can’t be the one who kills me, Edie.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But I can’t give up, either.”
“You’re unbelievably, fantastically determined to save me. Come here.” Lacing our fingers together, he led me to his bedroom.
The bed was neatly made with a navy-and-white-striped comforter, pillows propped up against the simple headboard. I didn’t hesitate when Kian drew me down with him. With every part of me, I wanted to be close, closer still. But he didn’t kiss me, as if he feared I’d misinterpret his intentions.
“Is this where you tell me it’s your last wish not to die a virgin?” Worst joke ever, but otherwise, I’d spent the next eight hours crying.
I can’t do that to him. I’ll use that time to think and to soak him in.
“What makes you think I would?”
“Ouch. I thought you said you don’t date.”
His lips quirked. “You think people have to date to hook up? That’s so cute.”
“Maybe you’re not the droid I’m looking for.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I wish I could say I never have, but—”
“No, it’s okay.”
“You can ask.”
“Do I want to know?”
“You’re the only one who can determine that.”
“Then I guess … yes. Tell me. Not how many, when or where.”
He settled me against his chest and turned on the TV, more for background noise. I liked his bedroom better than mine. “I got lost in the attention. Before, I was so nervous, and after, it was so easy. The first time I had sex, I’d only known the girl for like four hours.”
“And I bet it was magical,” I said drily.
“She was drunk and I was in a hurry. If she remembered more about it, I doubt she’d come back for seconds.”
“No offense, but that’s pretty gross.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t do it again.”
“Is that why you haven’t pressed?” Kian had given me signs that he wanted me, and that it wasn’t easy to stop at times.
“No. I figured you’d tell me when the time was right. Before I made the deal to protect you, I had all the time in the world.”
I considered asking about the Harbinger, but did it really matter? One emergency at a time, and Wedderburn constituted the pressing problem. After I got him out of this mess, then we’d deal with the next crisis. Kian might’ve already accepted that he was terminal, but I’d do anything to save him. Too many people had already died because of me.
Part of me wanted to sleep with him, but with so much darkness looming and my mother’s death close at hand, I’d never recover if this was my first time. So I didn’t offer. Sex should be about love or pleasure, not sadness. Unless you listened to my dad, in which case, it should only be undertaken to save the world from a meteor. Or something.
I started, “I can’t—”
“I wouldn’t, even if you said yes.”
“Can we make out?”
“I’m willing to go that far.” His smile reached his eyes for the first time in months. This was the reason behind his emotional distance; now that I knew how far he’d gone for me, Kian could be himself again.
Kian slid onto his side and I faced him. This was different from kisses in a parked car or furtive moments on the sofa. He cupped my face in his hand as my lashes drifted down. Shards of glass slid in and out of my heart as I realized he’d given me my first kiss, and I might be giving him his last. His mouth brushed mine, once, twice. I laced my hands in his hair. He kissed me deep and deeper still, a lush sweetness blooming between us, more than chemicals, more than chemistry.
He ran his hands down my back, tugging me closer. His muscles felt lean and strong beneath my hands. Sex was a bad idea, but if he kept touching me, I’d soon be willing to make him my favorite mistake. As if he had the same thought, he buried his face in the curve between my neck and shoulder, breath coming in hot puffs.
“Hurts,” he managed. “How much I want you.”
“I know.” I had the same ache, growing stronger with each brush of his mouth.
With shaking hands, he held me to him. I wrapped my legs around his, only half knowing what I was doing. “Stop. Edie, stop.”
But neither of us did. It felt too good.
“Okay. Okay.” Kian muttered the words, trying to calm down, but I didn’t let go.
“This. Not sex, this.” And I moved, showing him what I wanted, what I could accept.
Our clothes were still on, and I couldn’t breathe for wanting him. He groaned as he rolled on top of me, giving in. It might not be enough for him, but for me—yes. Definitely. I shifted and rocked, until I shivered uncontrollably, unable to believe it could be this wonderful with all of my clothes on. His mouth was on mine, and he arched on top of me, breathing me in. One push, another, quick and convulsive.
“Jesus.” He scattered kisses all over my face.
“This is my promise to you. When I’m eighteen? We’ll revisit this subject.” Not sleeping with him was my way of keeping hope alive and proof that I didn’t accept his fate.
We held each other until it became necessary to clean up. For me that wasn’t a problem, but he showered and changed. His expression when he came out of the bathroom was priceless. Love flooded through me, though science might argue this was only a result of the endorphins.
Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love. Another Einstein saying, one of my favorites—and until this moment, I had no idea what it meant.
“You look pleased with yourself,” he mumbled.
“There are a ton of reasons why I shouldn’t be … but at the moment, they all seem really far away.”
“I know what you mean.” He padded to bed, barefoot, and snuggled me against his chest, my favorite place in the world.
As I listened to his heartbeat, a possible solution knocked at the edges of my brain, but I was exhausted. Epiphany danced around the perimeter of my mind, refusing to coalesce. Kian ran his fingers through my hair, a sweet cycle that sent shivers through me. I kissed his shoulder; he made a delicious noise.
“Was that too much?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t have tried to get you to do that … but it was perfect. Are you okay?”
“No virginal remorse on my end. Hey…”
“Hm?”
“Since we watched Casablanca the other night, can we watch Notorious now? You said it’s your other favorite.”
Obviously pleased that I’d remembered, Kian got up to put in the DVD. “This is your chance, ask for anything. It’s impossible for me to say no to you right now.”
Don’t die. Don’t leave me.
But those were cruel favors to ask, not within his ability to grant. And those were the terms, right? What we ask will always be within your power to fulfill. The revelation brightened, like a new light bulb, and then it fizzled and winked out. Dammit. You’re sup
posed to be smart. Figure out how to help him. He’s in this mess because he cares so much about protecting you. And I couldn’t even get mad at him over it.
“Just the movie.”
“You probably think I’m weird for liking the oldies, huh?”
“No. But I’m curious what got you started on them.”
“Our housekeeper,” he answered, surprising me. “On Saturday nights, she always watched the late show, and I was a lonely kid. At first, it was mostly the thrill of staying up past my bedtime, but I came to love the classics as much as she did.”
“Do you still talk to her?”
He shook his head, and without him saying so, I realized that she was gone. Not like his mother, in and out of rehab. But gone. Like my mom. Rather than say something stupid, awkward, or insensitive, I scooted over, so he could sit next to me. The mattress dipped.
Kian put an arm around me, clicking play on the remote. Ingrid Bergman came to glorious life while Cary Grant was smooth, inscrutable, and charming. They both had undeniable glamour, maybe because I didn’t know about their cheating habits or their secret addictions. Beside me, Kian was smiling, lost in the movie, but every now and then, he kissed my temple, reminding me that we were together.
You are my one true thing, I thought. Always. In time, I might love someone else, if the worst came to pass. But he would never be Kian, and I hoarded these moments like a dragon on a pile of shimmering gold. We watched his favorite film until my eyelids grew heavy, and I drifted before I learned whether Devlin loved Alicia.
In my heart, I knew he did, even if he never said the words.
A SACRIFICE TO LOVE
I woke alone.
Immediately I knew that was wrong, and dread cramped my stomach. I rolled out of Kian’s bed and ran to the living room. Foreboding turned to sickness, and I trembled as I padded toward the note taped to the door. Perspectives in the room seemed off, so that the paper got larger and larger, until it loomed bigger than the door, as if it was so heavy that it should pull the door inward into a hole that would swallow them both. Blinking my eyes repeatedly made Kian’s neat handwriting resolve from teary swirls into comprehensible language. I hated this note, even before I read it. But I had to know what it said and what he thought constituted an adequate good-bye.
Edie,
I wasn’t truly alive until I met you. It’s funny how spring always follows winter, even when you’ve given up all hope of ever seeing the sun again. But it rises. “Why does the sun come up, or are the stars just pinholes in the curtain of night?”
At that line, a quote from Highlander, I choked back a sob and it was as if he knew I would react that way as I read on.
Don’t cry for me, but I do hope you’ll remember that we were good together and you were always beautiful in my eyes. From the start, you mattered, even when I was trying to play by their rules. So do me one final favor, if I have the right to ask anything—live for me. Your future is wide open and without me, you’ll achieve remarkable things. I won’t see your potential ruined and you enslaved to Wedderburn. I’d rather die.
There’s one more thing I kept from you, a file I didn’t show you last night. In no future, if you’re with me, do you complete your mother’s work. I’m the sacrifice that must be made. And I’m willing.
You will succeed. You’ll repay the favors. Then your life will be your own. And that’s all I care about now. My time is done, one way or another, so let me choose how I go. I have always, always wanted to be your hero.
Kian
My heart cracked wide, threatening to spill a river of tears. In every way that matters, you’re already my knight in a shiny red car. How can you not know that?
“No,” I said aloud. “Damn you, no, bastard-asshole martyr, I don’t accept this.”
Fury lent me strength; I raced into the bedroom and grabbed my purse. My cell phone tumbled out of the front pocket. As I bent to pick it up, it rang. I recognized Vi’s number, and I knew she must be worried. It had been a couple of days since we’d talked.
Already moving toward the front door, I answered it. “What’s up?”
“Are you all right?”
“What, is your spider sense tingling?” Classic question parry since I didn’t want to worry her. She knew little about my actual life, but it warmed me that she cared. My red winter coat was hanging in the closet in the foyer; I shrugged into it and exited Kian’s building.
“I don’t know, I’m just … concerned about you.” She sounded puzzled, like she couldn’t explain it. “You were really quiet last time we talked. With your mom and everything … maybe you should spend the holidays with me?”
People should trust their instincts more. You’re right to have a weird feeling, Vi.
“I can’t leave my dad.”
“Bring him. I already talked to my parents. He can sleep in the den and you can have the trundle bed in my room. It’ll be good. Come on.”
“Maybe.”
I couldn’t tell her the truth as I ran toward what might be my doom. Early Saturday morning, I didn’t have to fight commuters, just a few runners, mothers out with children, and people gearing up for Christmas shopping. Dodging around the other pedestrians, I raced toward the station.
“Thanks. I … just want you to know that your friendship means a lot to me.” That was the kind of thing you said as part of a farewell like the one Kian wrote to me.
“You’re starting to freak me out. You sound all grave and … final.”
“I don’t mean to. Look, Vi, I can’t talk now. I have to be somewhere and I’m about to dodge into the subway.”
“Okay. Call me later?”
“Sure.” If I’m alive.
At least Vi would miss me if this rescue mission went wrong. Davina probably would, too. And my dad, God, I couldn’t even think about my dad. With shaking hands, I texted him. It was barely dawn, so he likely wasn’t up yet, but he should find my bullshit about going for an early run reassuring.
I don’t want to leave him alone. I’m supposed to help him. Optimum future, my ass.
Finally, I tapped out a message to Davina, nothing dramatic. Just, thanks for being my friend. Which might scare her, but … I knew the risks of confronting Wedderburn and interrupting the grand gesture Kian had planned. I hoped I got there fast enough to do … something. What, I had no idea; I hadn’t planned that far ahead. My head throbbed with tension and trepidation. Too much shock and grief apparently impaired cognitive function, because I did not feel at the top of my game.
The ride downtown seemed interminable and the tunnels were full of living shadows that slithered after the racing car. Long dark fingers crawled toward me, but I stared up at the lights overhead, letting them shine into my eyes until I saw spots. I won’t let the darkness in. I won’t. I’m not crazy. I didn’t realize I was mumbling this aloud until the old guy nearby moved away by several seats, but I was beyond caring what anyone thought.
The thin man watched me race off the car, across the platform and toward the stairs, but he made no move to stop me. Only the smell of corruption lingered in my nostrils as I blew past. It was too early on a Saturday for businessmen to be out, but there were service workers in uniforms and homeless people layered against the cold. A few of them raised their heads when I raced by, staring at a spot just over my shoulder, until I wanted to scream.
No breath for it. Keep moving.
Iris was at the desk in the lobby, red as blood, terrifying as always. “How good to see you again, Miss Kramer. Do you have an appointment?”
“Wedderburn will want to see me,” I said, hoping it was true.
She didn’t take my word for it, of course; she rang upstairs to check. In some ways, it was reassuring that even supernatural creatures clung to protocol and procedure.
I’m not too late. I’m not.
To my astonishment, Wedderburn must’ve asked her to put him on speaker. His voice snapped from the intercom. “Yes, send her up. There’s something I want her
to see.”
If it’s Kian’s body … the careless cruelty of it would unmake me. But then, that was Wedderburn’s specialty. Ice doesn’t care who it harms. My knees quivered and I locked them, holding on to the reception desk for support.
Kian, you ass, I don’t need a hero. I just want you.
Wearing a deep frown, Iris scrawled a code. Like before, she warned, “This will get you to the proper floor and nowhere else. It will only work once.”
The elevator was spooky in silence, no tinny music today, but it moved so fast I heard the rushing air beneath it, as if I had been sucked up into a monstrous maw. I half expected teeth to crunch down and smash me like a bug in a can. At last, the car stopped and I got out. Wedderburn strode down the hall toward me, unusual. I had never seen him out of his office. When I realized Kian wasn’t with him, I choked down a tide of angry questions.
“How delightful of you to come,” he said. “I was starting to worry that you’d overslept and we’d have to start without you.”
Without another word, he led me back to his office and threw open the door. I braced for the sight of Kian in a pool of blood; my brain was ready for it, Dr. Oppenheimer whispering in my ear, The optimist thinks this is the best of all possible worlds. The pessimist fears it is true. But it was the best of all possible worlds. Kian whirled, alive, breathing—breathing and glaring—but alive. His jaw tightened, and his eyes went livid with a ferocious blend of fear and anger.
Wedderburn shut the door behind him with a restrained snick. Displeasure radiated from him like frost snapping from winter-withered leaves. He paced, so that his movements reminded me of the back-and-forth sweep of a blade across a weighted trap. Sooner or later, the axe would fall.
“You’re here to bear witness to his judgment?” he asked. “Brave of you.”
“Not exactly,” I started to say, but Wedderburn wasn’t listening.
“There is no doubt. Kian Riley serves you now, not me. And a tool that cannot be trusted to its purpose is irrevocably broken and must be discarded.”
Shit. I knew exactly what that meant.