It was her leaf.
He held it out to her.
Ryland, in her lap, was watching Walker too. Walker spared the cat a single glance before returning his attention to Fenella.
“Leave us alone,” Fenella said to the cat.
Ryland obeyed, as he must, leaping lightly to the ground and disappearing outside of the little copse of trees.
She took the leaf, careful not to touch Walker. She cupped the leaf in her palm. It was emitting its gentle, soothing pulse. It was alive again! What did this mean?
“I found the leaf in the cab of my truck.” Walker drew a hand through his hair. “It wanted me to come here. So I did.” He paused, and then burst out: “Who are you, Fenella? What are you, that a leaf gives instructions about you to me? Leo— do you know what you did to him? It was on purpose, wasn’t it?” His anger and bewilderment wound through the words.
Fenella held her whole body tight. She said nothing.
“I told everyone it was an accident. But I know it wasn’t. You were planning something all along—you used me for my truck. Didn’t you? First you used me to learn to drive. Then there’s the dog. You were after Pierre, right? You were trying to kill a dog! What kind of monster are you? Then you changed your mind and you did—what you did. And then you ran away!”
Fenella bit her lip.
“What does that make you? A user, a liar, a coward, and a murderer.” Walker’s cheekbones stood out in his face.
“Yes,” Fenella said, into the silence. “I did it all. You are completely correct.”
Walker ripped his hand through his hair again. “I know I am.”
Then he muttered, “And yet. This leaf. And you. I look at you—your face, your eyes, the way you move. I listen to your voice. Something in me can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it.” He shook his head. “Maybe this is a nightmare and I’ll wake up any minute.”
Fenella held the oak leaf up to her cheek. “What about Leo?” she asked Walker steadily. “Tell me what happened after I ran away.”
“He’s on life support at the hospital. They did blood transfusions. They were talking about surgery. But realistically, there’s little hope.”
Fenella’s heart leaped, however. Leo was still alive? There was little hope, Walker had said. But that meant there was some hope. The third task was about hope.
Then her mind splintered. If Leo lived, would that mean she had failed at the second task? But even if he died, Soledad and Lucy and Zach would still love him. So how had she destroyed love, exactly? The queen had said she had succeeded. Padraig had been withered. It didn’t make sense.
Walker said, “I told the police I was the one driving the truck. I said that I lost control, trying to avoid hitting Pierre. Do you understand, Fenella? I covered for you. I took responsibility before the police and your family. Everyone thinks it was an accident. My fault, my accident. Not yours.”
Fenella doubted it. Her family knew things about Fenella that Walker did not.
Still, he had lied for her to the police. Around an obstruction in her throat, Fenella managed a single word. “Why?”
Walker’s hands clenched. “You know how I feel about you. Don’t pretend you don’t.” He paused. “But that’s not why.” He looked down at his hands, and then directly at her. “There’s something deeply wrong with you, Fenella.”
“Really, you think so? Beyond my being a liar and a murderer and so on?” She didn’t know how she’d managed sarcasm, or even why she had bothered. She didn’t mean the sarcastic words. She was still amazed. Walker had lied for her!
“I’m talking about you being damaged. I’m talking about the kind of damage that causes you to do the things you do. That’s the only reason I’m here. I think you’re mentally ill. You must be. I think you need help.”
The oak leaf pulsed in Fenella’s hands.
Walker continued steadily, “At the same time, Fenella— and hear this, because I mean every word: I hate you.” He stood up. He loomed over her, and the closeness of the trees around them somehow amplified his size. “I was feeling this even while lying to the police and to your family, even while covering for you, even while telling myself that you’ve got to be mentally ill. Something terrible must have happened in your life before, to hurt you, to make you unstable. Abuse of some kind, maybe.”
She sat still and silent, watching him in the dimness. And listening.
“I’m also afraid of you,” Walker said starkly. “I’m afraid of what I feel. I’m afraid of what I did. Do you understand? I lied. I lied to the police and to everyone else. For you. I lied for you!”
She nodded; a small movement of her head. It seemed to satisfy him in some way. He sat down again by her side.
“Just now,” he said hoarsely, “I followed a leaf to find you. A leaf that acted like a compass, and you’re the North Pole. So, there you go. You’re crazy, you’ve made me crazy, and you’ve turned the whole world around me insane. Did you burn that house down too, by the way? Right. I can see by your face that you did.”
“I’m sorry,” Fenella said.
It was of course entirely the wrong thing to say. He exploded again. “You’re sorry? You’re sorry? God! What am I doing here? I should get in my truck and drive back home alone. I should do it this minute. I will do it! I’ll drive away without looking back, and then I’ll never think of you for the rest of my life. No! First I’ll haul you to the police, then I’ll walk away. No! Before that, I’ll force you to face Soledad and Lucy and Zach and Miranda. I’ll make you tell them what you’ve done.”
Walker was breathing hard. “Then I’ll take you to the police.” He snatched her wrists and held them manacled in one hand. “After that, that’s when I wipe you out of my mind. That’s when I walk away forever from the sociopathic, beautiful, leaf-attracting monster that you are. You’re sorry, you say. Sorry!”
She could explain until the world came to an end, and he would never believe or understand. He was crushing her wrists. If he broke them and her bones healed themselves before his very eyes, what sort of monster would he call her then? Fenella had a vague curiosity about it. She wondered if he remembered that he had seen her arms heal, instantly, from cat scratches, on the day that they met.
Incidentally, he had also just called her beautiful.
She heard her breath coming hard and fast between her lips. Walker’s face was bare inches from hers, his breath smelling faintly of mint.
He was breathing as rapidly as she was.
By her wrists he pulled her closer, right up against him. Heat poured off his body. His gaze pierced her in the darkness, cold and hot at once. “That’s what I want. You’re going to come with me and—”
Fenella dropped the oak leaf. She scrambled on top of Walker, settling onto his lap on the park bench, her skirt riding up. Her hands were trapped between them by his grip on her wrists. His other hand rose to her shoulder, grasping it, and made to push her away.
She was desperate for contact, for warmth. She tried to push her body against Walker’s, but her arms were in the way. That was all right, though, because there were still his legs beneath hers, his thighs long and taut and muscled, and it felt so right to be on his lap.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with you if you want. But first, this is what I want. I have to have it. It’s the one thing I want before I die.”
She set her mouth on his.
Chapter 40
For a few seconds Walker held Fenella off, so that her mouth could only barely brush his. “You’re even crazier than I realized,” he said. But then Fenella captured his mouth fully. Long moments later when she let it go, he whispered her name, sounding as tender and desperate and wounded as she felt.
She leaned in again. She bit his mouth, oh so gently.
His hand on her shoulder, which had started out by trying to push her away, went still as she kissed him and felt his response. His entire arm came around her waist, pulling her tightly into his chest. Triumph surged i
n her. She leaned to take his mouth again and this time he met her halfway.
She squirmed closer.
At last Walker freed his mouth from Fenella’s. He was panting. “You need to be on medication. You’re dangerous to others and to yourself.”
“Don’t think,” Fenella said. “Kiss me.” She closed her eyes. She turned her face blindly, seeking his mouth, and found it.
But too soon Walker withdrew his mouth again. Fenella laid her head on his shoulder and murmured, “Isn’t there somewhere we can go to be truly private? Just for a while? It’s night—is anyone at the vet clinic?”
“A few animals that are being boarded . . . No! I’m not going there with you, Fenella. Or anywhere. What if my supervisor saw us? Wait, no, that’s not why. It’s because it’s wrong. It’s because—”
“It wouldn’t be for long. Just this once. This is the only chance we’ll ever, ever have, don’t you see that?”
Walker turned his face away. His breathing was ragged in her ear. His chest fell and rose beneath her. “I said no.”
“Afterward, I’d go anywhere you said. To my family. To the police. I promise I would.”
She could feel him shaking his head. “Your promise is worthless, beloved. You’re Lifetime movie material. Some actress could win an award playing you.”
Beloved.
“You can tie me up while we’re there,” Fenella offered. “To make sure I won’t escape.”
“Or to make sure that you don’t try to kill me.” Bitterness had leaked again into his voice, and she knew he was remembering Leo.
“I wouldn’t hurt you.” She blew gently at a spot on his neck where his thick, dark hair fell away from the skin. She longed for the use of her hands so that she could cup his face with them, but he was still holding her wrists. “It truly was an accident with Leo.”
“Yeah, right. Because you were after the dog.”
“No, I—there’s no sense my trying to explain. Let’s forget it all for a little while. Just a few hours alone. Even one. One would do.”
“I said no, Fenella. I won’t be manipulated. I’m not that guy.”
She heard his words, but his body was telling her something else. She waited, and he added, “You’re so convincing. I almost believe that you want me the way I want you.”
Fenella moved against him gently as she whispered into his ear. “I don’t want you the way you want me. I want you more than you want me.”
Beneath her, he returned her movement. “Liar.”
Fenella brushed his lips. “How long has it been for you?”
His breath mingled with hers. “None of your business.”
“Who was it with? A girlfriend?”
“I’m not telling you anything. I won’t give you anything else belonging to me.”
They were nose to nose in the dimness.
“Not even her first name?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you love her?” Fenella persisted.
“No.”
“No, you didn’t love her?”
“No, I won’t tell you whether I did or not.”
Fenella squirmed. “Let my hands go, I want to touch you.”
Walker’s grip tightened on her wrists. “No. I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Always no with you.” Fenella rocked against him. “No.” She moved again. “No.”
Sweat had long since broken out on Walker’s forehead. A drop worked its slow way down along his temple. She licked it, tasting the acidity of his skin. He made a small noise that might have meant anything in the world, except for no.
“Okay, so I didn’t love her.” His voice was lower than low, and quite desperate. “My last girlfriend. I liked her, though. I’m liking her better and better by the minute. See, she was sane.” As he spoke, his hips moved again, strong, a pulsing counterpoint to hers, and then they were moving together.
But in the next second, Fenella went still. Then so did Walker. His eyes cut to hers.
She said, “If you really want me to slide off you, I will. That’s not what I want to do. I want us to finish what we’ve started. But if you tell me to, I’ll stop. You can take me to my family and then to the police or whatever it is you want to do. Now or later.”
Another drop of sweat trickled down the side of Walker’s face. Again, Fenella leaned in and followed its path with her mouth.
“Shall I stop? Should we go now?” She moved her hips again. “Or should we do this first?”
“This is insane,” Walker muttered. “We’re in a public place.”
Fenella kept her eyes fixed on his. “The trees are protecting us,” she murmured, and knew in that instant that it was true, even though these trees were not fey.
“I’m not insane.” Walker’s voice strengthened. “I won’t be insane. I know better.”
Fenella knew a long, terrible moment of dread and despair. So, she was to have nothing then, not even a few stolen moments beneath the trees with a man who had called her beloved. Slowly, reluctantly, she began to shift away.
Instantly, Walker’s arm tightened full around her to keep her close to him, even though his hand in between their bodies kept its grip on her wrists.
“No,” he said. “No! All right. Don’t go. Stay. Stay—right— there. Keep doing what you were doing.”
Fenella gave him one, two, three seconds to change his mind.
Then she leaned forward. “I will,” said Fenella. “I absolutely will.” This time when their lips met, his desperation entwined with hers.
It would do. This would do. It would have to, because this moment on Walker’s lap, fully clothed, on a park bench shielded by trees, was all she was going to get. This time, this deed, and the single word beloved. It was more than Fenella had dared dream of receiving.
Even though Walker would believe nothing she said, she would give him a gift as well. She would give the gift of truth.
She whispered, “Listen to me. I haven’t been with a man that I chose for nearly four hundred years. Until tonight.”
Walker laughed. He kissed Fenella’s neck, small nips that stopped short of bites. “It’s been a year for me. It only feels like four hundred.”
Then he stilled. “What do you mean, a man you chose?” He yanked his head back. “What are you saying, Fenella? Were you raped?” His gaze searched her face in the dim light from the streetlamps. “Four hundred years? That’s crazy talk again. But rape—Fenella—we have to stop, right now, and—”
“Never mind,” she said hastily. “I just meant that I choose you and I choose this. I want you. I want you so much.”
“Me too,” said Walker indistinctly. “Although I need to point out that we’re also choosing possible arrest for public indecency. Not to mention—”
“Quiet.” Fenella kissed him. Then, for a blessed time in the night, there were no words and no thoughts, only Fenella and Walker, alone enough.
Chapter 41
A blissful little island can only remain suspended in time and space for a short while, however. Some unknown
number of minutes later, a scream from a cat brought them crashing down to earth. Walker reacted immediately, bucking Fenella off his lap fast and hard. She fell onto the ground on her hip. He stood, looking around warily.
The cat screeched again. A minute later, two women, one elderly and holding on to the other’s arm, passed under the streetlamp beyond the sheltering trees, but they did not even so much as glance within the bower.
As the women’s footfalls died away, the catcall came again. Now it was louder, closer. Ryland, Fenella thought. She supposed he was being as tactful as possible under the circumstances.
The noises of the suburban night penetrated her awareness. A car door slammed. An automatic lock chirped. She heard the croaks and whistles of grackles in a tree overhead, and a murmur of voices accompanied by a drift of music as people exited a nearby restaurant.
Fenella realized the sounds of others had been present all along.
/> From her position on the ground, she smoothed her skirt, crossed her legs, and leaned back on her hands philosophically. It was too dark to see anything but Walker’s outline, and since he had turned his back on her, she had to try to read his emotions by the set of his shoulders.
He mumbled something.
“What is it?” At the last second she kept back the word beloved, but only just, and the sweet, sure shape of it seemed to linger in her mouth.
“That wasn’t real,” Walker said, and swung around.
Fenella sat up. “What?”
His face was completely in shadow. “That wasn’t real. Whatever that was—it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t for real.”
It was like the moment when Fenella had felt the queen’s sharp, serrated knife enter her body. For whole seconds there was no pain, and then the next, there was nothing but.
“Not real?” She scrambled awkwardly to her feet. “We both participated! You said yes, so did I! That’s real enough for me.”
“Stop shouting! Okay, it was real, in the sense of not imaginary, but still it doesn’t count.”
“Who’s the liar now?”
Walker took a step away. A second later, Fenella felt the cool caress of the cat’s fur. Ryland wound himself around her ankles, his long beautiful tail lingering the longest. You yell like a fishwife, he said.
Fenella ignored him.
“You seduced me,” Walker said, in a cool, measured tone. “You’re responsible.”
Fenella took a step back too, and put her hands on her hips. “You were willing. Don’t claim you didn’t enjoy it, because it was evident to me that you did.” When he shook his head, she added bitterly, “Listen. You had a very good time. I’m not inexperienced even if you are, so don’t think you can deny anything.”
Ryland’s claws dug sharply into Fenella’s ankle, and she yelped.
Stop right there, my friend, Ryland said. The wise woman does not mock her lover for lack of experience.
“I wasn’t mocking, Ryland, you idiot!” Fenella yelled. “Anyway, what do you care what I say to Walker? You don’t even like him!”