Part 33 (2/2)

Dani used to sport bruises from freeze-framing. Looks like Jada got that under control. The way she moves that sleek, long-legged body, grace could be her middle name. In black leather pants, combat boots, and a black tee, long auburn hair swept up high in a sleek ponytail, she reminds me of Angelina Jolie in Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, her face chiseled-porcelain beautiful, strong and icy. Besides a thin silver chain belt, her only other adornment is a silver and gold cuff. I stare fixedly at it, trying to remember where I've seen it before. Or one very similar to it.

Her gaze sweeps down over Ryodan's nude body, a muscle flexes in her jaw. She yanks her gaze back up and trains it on his face.

I press back against a wall, studying her, grateful she's no longer freeze-framing. It'd be far too easy to get smashed if they both start doing that Tasmanian devil thing again.

My heart sinks.

Jada is Dani.

There's no question in my mind. I can see the teenager in the woman's face now. It's there in her bone structure, in the way she carries herself, in the fiery hair she must flat-iron every time she washes it or gets rained on (which means she must be flat-ironing constantly, considering how much it rains in this city).

I can't believe I didn't see it before.

Actually, yes I can. Not only did I have no reason to expect Dani to abruptly age four or five years in a few weeks, the years from fourteen to nineteen or twenty are enormously transformative. Ugly ducklings become swans, sometimes swans lose their youthful beauty and become ducks. Fourteen to twenty is the most transfiguring rite of pa.s.sage a man or woman completes, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

I press a hand to my chest, as if it might somehow ease the pain in my heart.

I did this.

I chased her through the portal and she lost years in there, where whatever she had to do to survive forced what was once a temporary split to become permanent, burying Dani pretty much the same way the Book would like to bury me.

I have to get her back. Unfortunately the only thing Jada wants to do to me is lock me up next to Cruce.

”The one that signed that contract is no longer here to honor it.” Jada's gaze takes an involuntary dip over Ryodan's body again and her face tightens. I get that. His body is surreal, powerful, perfect. I see his kins.h.i.+p to Barrons now. Criminy. He's not hard-yes, I'm frigging looking, and I'm not about to feel bad about it because you try not looking at a hot, naked man standing in front of you when you're twenty-three, perfectly healthy, and full of a lot of aggression you'd like to vent. I think men don't realize women think d.i.c.ks are beautiful. Not all d.i.c.ks. But some men get the mother lode, just the right length and thickness covered with beautiful olive-toned, velvety skin that has a luscious pink undertone and makes the head of their d.i.c.k look like a succulent lollipop, and since Ryodan is totally waxed or lasered or trimmed recently- I catch myself about to audibly clear my throat. I glue my eyes to his face, where they will remain until I leave this room, so help me G.o.d. I'm staring at Barrons's brother naked. It makes me feel vaguely unfaithful somehow.

Ryodan stalks across the room, stops a few feet from her, close enough to unnerve, not so close that she won't-if there's as much red-blooded woman in her as I think there is-have as hard a time keeping her eyes locked on his face as I am.

Great, now I have to not look at his a.s.s. With a distant part of my brain I admire that Jada/Dani doesn't comment on Ryodan's nudity, ask where his clothes are or demand he put some on. Ignoring it makes it irrelevant. No man wants his nudity to be irrelevant.

”One would think you wouldn't bother to come looking for it, then.”

”It offends in letter only, not verse.”

”You know it has power. Over even you. Should I choose to exercise it.”

”Should you choose to exercise it, you'll die more quickly than I currently plan.”

”You admit you're Dani, then.”

”It would be inefficient for me to continue to deny that which we both know was once true. 'Was once' are the key words there. Dani is dead.”

”You've got that wrong. You're the one who's dead.”

”I'm alive. She was never as alive as me. She was in constant pain. I terminated it.”

”By terminating all emotion.”

”I feel.”

”Bulls.h.i.+t. The currency of life is pa.s.sion, and as with any coin, it has two sides: pleasure, pain, joy, sorrow. Impossible to slip a single side of that coin into your pocket. You take all or nothing.”

She c.o.c.ks her head and says coolly, ”Perhaps we are alike, you and I, and I prefer my pockets empty.”

”My pockets are far from empty.”

”Says the man whose face is etched by neither laugh nor frown lines. Feeling nothing is called traveling light. It's called freedom.”

”It's called being dead inside. You will return her to me.”

”I won't. She was too stupid to live.”

”Is,” he corrects. ”And she's not. She's the one who's smart enough to live. You merely survive.”

”One of us must. You were no help. You lost her the instant she stepped through the portal and entered Faery. You didn't save her. She waited, thinking you were different from those who used and betrayed her. She believed you would find her, come charging to her rescue. That belief was as misplaced as the monsters we faced were deadly. The day came she finally lost her faith in you, and I was there as I've always been there when she needed me, and she was grateful. I saved her. Not you. You failed her. Failed as in: did not accomplish the specified, desired objective; performing inadequately or ineffectively; neglecting to honor promises, implied or contractual-”

A muscle in his jaw twitches. ”Like I need a f.u.c.king dictionary.”

”It would seem you do. You broke her finger that night in Chester's. I've not forgotten. I forget no wrong done to her.”

”It was unintentional. Sidhe-seer or not, I'm unaccustomed to young humans. Their bones are different.”

”I'm no longer young.”

”I'm b.l.o.o.d.y f.u.c.king aware of that.”

” 'I'm aware' would have sufficed. 'b.l.o.o.d.y f.u.c.king' is superfluous and contributes nothing to the sentence in either connotation or denotation.”

”I'll b.l.o.o.d.y f.u.c.king decide what's b.l.o.o.d.y f.u.c.king superfluous.”

”You're so ... human. It's inefficient.”

”Wrong on that score. And efficiency is no guarantee of survival. Nor is intellect. What it takes to be the last one standing is an unquenchable hunger to live. He who wants it the most wins. It takes fire, willingness to burn down to your motherf.u.c.king core.”

”You're ice. Yet you live.”

”Not as cold as you think.”

”Omission or commission. You said you would break more bones that night.”

”A necessary threat, one I knew she wouldn't test. I've rescued her in Dublin's streets more often than you. Saved her times uncounted without her knowing. She's not as unbreakable as she likes to believe. The day Jayne took her sword, I was there before Christian. It was I who nudged Christian in her direction.”

”You do nothing without motive.”

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