Part 14 (1/2)

”I did,” he said slowly. ”I did. I was so... furious. He hauled Katy out of the cab, and she was sick, and he was so hateful. I remember feeling that he was spewing venom at us. And I just-snapped.”

He didn't make a huge protest of innocence or justify his action. He didn't try to laugh it off. Instead he looked off into the distance, as if remembering the whole night. He sighed, making another cloud. ”Babe, is that why you left?”

”It was a bunch of things,” I muttered.

He was silent, as if mentally reviewing. ”Okay,” he said again. ”I'm sorry to hear I was part of it. I wish you'd talked to me about it, then. Anyway. So you're here-at this farm. Have you been here the whole time? Is it... going well for you?” He gestured in the general direction of River's Edge.

”Well” was not how I would describe my stay here. I shrugged.

”Look, if I know that you're healthy and happy here, and among friends, I can leave with a clear conscience,” he said, and smiled. ”Because I'll know my friend is fine.”

Friend. We had been friends, for such a long time. My relations.h.i.+p with him seemed to be the definition of friends.h.i.+p. I called him in emergencies, and he always came through. When he needed help, I was glad to pitch in. We went shopping, influencing what the other wore. For so long, my endless days had been bearable because Incy had been there. When I was down, he would do anything, crazy things, to cheer me up. I mean, the male-stripper-gram hadn't been a good idea, but still. We sent each other candy and flowers and little gifts we'd seen that had reminded us of the other. He'd given me a Studebaker once. I'd given him a Corvette. He'd wrecked it.

We simply... always preferred each other's company to any other. I looked up into his eyes, so dark they looked like part of the night sky. I'd looked into those eyes a million times, right before falling asleep, over a dinner table, on countless ocean liners, in an emergency room.

Who could I call my friend at River's Edge? With uncomfortable surprise, I realized there wasn't anyone. No one hated me, but no one was really a good friend, not anything like Incy and I had been, or even Boz and Katy. I thought of how Anne and Amy walked arm in arm, how Brynne and Rachel studied together, their heads close. I would have thought Brynne's flamboyance would be a bad foil for Rachel's natural studiousness, but in magick, it seemed, they were more alike.

I'd been an outsider when I arrived, and I'd remained that way for more than two months. And maybe that had been my fault, I admitted, thinking of the overtures I'd rebuffed, invitations to walks, to movies-once, to spend the afternoon making cookies. I'd never accepted, usually heading up to my room instead.

I remembered River telling me that I'd never be able to love anyone else until I loved and accepted myself. That still seemed just as unattainable a goal as it did when I'd shown up like a hungry mongrel.

Oh G.o.d-I'd screwed up so bad, wasted the last two months. I'd been kidding myself. All of my sincere attempts, my stupid, pathetic job, my b.u.mbling struggles to learn, to fit in-it was one painful memory after another. What had I been thinking? Why had I even tried? I recalled the patient smiles, the measured explanations of basic, A-B-C stuff that every immortal in the world knew except me. They must have been laughing themselves sick.

Incy let out another breath and stood up. ”I don't remember Ma.s.sachusetts being this cold,” he said. He glanced up as a fine snowflake drifted down, swaying back and forth like a tiny feather. Another flake joined it. Perfect. Because I needed to get snowed on, on top of everything else. I still had nowhere to go, nothing to do with myself. And I would have to give Incy his coat back.

Then what? Yep, I had really thought this through. Was making great choices. Had learned so much.

Incy smiled suddenly and looked at me. ”Do you remember that time in Rome-when was it? Like the fifties. Late fifties? We were at that restaurant, and Boz was telling a story, and the waiter put down that huge platter of spaghetti, and we were so hungry?”

I could see it at once and smiled involuntarily, knowing what was coming next.

”Of course Boz was three sheets to the wind,” Incy said.

”Montepulciano,” I said, remembering the wine we'd been drinking.

”And he was waving his arms around, telling that stupid story about the sheep,” Incy said, starting to chuckle. ”And then he slammed his fist down on the table to make a point-”

”And the plank of the table flew up, launching the spaghetti platter,” I said, grinning. ”Oh my G.o.d, spaghetti everywhere. Jeez, what a mess.”

”But we wouldn't know,” Incy said. His smile seemed to light up the area around us.

”Because we sped out of there, leaving Boz to take the blame,” I said, snickering.

Incy tilted his head back and laughed, and though I had seen him laugh a bazillion times, it was still fun. The crazed, blood-drenched Incy of my visions seemed almost incomprehensible right now. Yes, he had crippled the cabbie-but now I wondered if it had been Incy's own inherent darkness bursting out of him without warning. As mine had. Or had my own darkness even made him do it? It was a nauseating possibility.

I s.h.i.+vered as I contemplated giving Incy his coat back. I was so deliciously warm. Without thinking I slipped my arms into the big sleeves and wrapped it around myself.

Incy gave me a sweet, loving smile. ”I'm so glad-relieved-to see you're all right, babe,” he said. ”I was worried, but you're doing fine. So... give me a call, next time you want to hang out, tell stories about Boz.”

”How is Boz?” In pieces somewhere? I still couldn't shake that frightening image.

”He's fine.” Incy shook his head: silly Boz. ”He, Katy, Stratton, and Cicely are all waiting for me back in Boston. They've been worried about you, too. Anyway-we were thinking of hanging out there for a while, and then at the end of the month catching the new sixty-day cruise that Halliday just announced.”

I love cruises. No driving, no looking for hotels, no finding restaurants. Plus, you can get drunk and the worst thing that could happen to you is you fall overboard. Which is really hard to do.

”It goes to the Far East-China, j.a.pan, Thailand, Vietnam. Then down to India-all around in there. It has some great day trips.” He shrugged. ”Sounded fun.”

It sounded like freaking paradise.

”Huh. How much does it cost?” Not that cost was ever an issue for us.

Incy snorted. ”Practically nothing. Twenty-two thousand for a suite. For sixty days.”

”You're all going?” I remembered other cruises with the gang. They had been so, so fun.

Incy nodded. ”Stratton's still on the fence-depends on this girl he's chasing.”

”Oh. It sounds fun. It leaves at the end of January?”

He nodded and put his hands into his corduroy pockets. He must have been freezing and was s.h.i.+fting from foot to foot. ”Yeah. Like January twenty-fifth or something. Katy says she needs all new resort wear.” He rolled his eyes. ”But we can do some shopping in Boston, and then take the red-eye to LA in time to catch the boat.” He gave me another sweet, somewhat wistful smile. ”They'll be so glad to hear that you're okay. Just hiding out in the backwoods, chilling. Literally.”

I gave a tiny laugh. ”How did you get here?” I asked.

He gestured vaguely over one shoulder. ”I have a sweet ride, a Caddy. The latest Incymobile. The road isn't too far from here, actually. I concentrated on you, seemed to feel your energy. I thought I must be crazy, but something told me to stop there, get out, and walk. And then there you were.”

”Oh.” I licked my lips again. My car was totaled, of course.

Incy looked at me. ”Honey-you're happy here, right? You're fine? I can leave and be happy for you?”

My eyes filled with tears again, and Incy looked alarmed. I was not known for being a big crier, and he hadn't been around for the last two months of waterworks.

I didn't know what to say. My mind was splitting in two. There was no way I could go back to River's Edge, face all those people, look like such a failure, and have them realize how inescapably dark I was. But would being on my own be any better? I'd have to come up with a whole new life for myself. What would I do? Where would I go? While I'd always had my own apartment or house-Incy was a huge slob-still, I'd known who I would be with every day. Knew basically what I would do. Being at River's Edge had, in some ways, been more of the same: a pattern.

If I left River's Edge, and I wasn't going to be with Innocencio, what would I do? The thought filled me with panic as I pictured myself living in a new place, maybe knowing a couple of other immortals I wasn't close to. It was the last thing I felt like doing.

But what choice did I have? After all, I was still kind of afraid of Incy-wasn't I? I didn't even know. He seemed so... himself. Totally himself. Easy and fun and really, sincerely concerned about me, and oh yes, sane. Because obvious insanity would be a deal breaker for sure.

I rubbed my hand across my eyes, which burned and felt gritty. Snow was falling more heavily now.

”Nas. Now I'm worried again. Was anyone mean to you? Do I need to kick some a.s.s?”

That thought alone was hilarious; he would never risk ruining his outfit. I gave a leaky smile.

I was frozen, not with cold but with indecision and utter confusion. If I'd been lost, not knowing who I was two months ago, I was doubly so now.

”Listen,” said Incy, really looking concerned. ”Do you want to just get out of here? You could come get in the car. I'll crank the heater; we'll be in Boston in two hours. You can take a nice, hot bath with a brandy, to warm you from the inside out. We'll get room service. You'll feel like a new woman. And tomorrow you can decide what you feel like doing next.”