Part 12 (1/2)
An a.s.sociate or acquaintance of my dad? That was my guess. He had that look-an older man smiling at me fondly, as if I was the daughter of a friend.
”It's good to see you again,” he said as I walked over. ”I was beginning to wonder if you'd come.”
Someone who knew James, then. I smiled. ”James talked me into it. Did you enjoy the dinner? The cheesecake was amazing. I stole most of his.”
A smile. Indulgent and a little patronizing, as if to say, Small talk? I thought you were better than that.
”I mean I wasn't sure if you'd follow me.” He lifted the champagne gla.s.ses. ”But I came prepared.”
I felt as if I was standing on a boat, the floor bobbing beneath me, the very walls s.h.i.+mmering, not quite solid. Yet my brain clung to logic.
”Have we met?” I asked. ”I'm sorry if I don't recognize-”
”You wouldn't. You were very young. I knew your parents, and I'm so pleased to see how well you've grown. They must be very proud.”
”My father pa.s.sed last year, but my mother is well, thank you.”
His eyes glittered as he shook his head. Then he held out the champagne. ”Let's enjoy this while we speak. It's quite good.”
I stared at the flute, amber liquid popping within.
Don't touch it. Don't drink it. Dear G.o.d, whatever you do, do not drink that.
I shook my head. ”Thank you, but no. I-”
”Why not?”
I started at his rudeness. ”I've had enough, and-”
”That's not it at all.” His dark eyes bore into mine. ”You sense something.”
I opened my mouth with a quick denial, but the words wouldn't come.
He's not some family friend cornering you in a back hall. You know that. So stop pretending. Look at him. What do you see?
I see a man. I hear hounds. I smell horses. I feel- I feel terror and wonder, and I want to run and I don't want to run. I want to stay here and I want to drink the champagne and I want to say ...
I want to say what?
”Something is telling you not to take what I offer. Taste the foods. Sip the wine. Never leave. Follow me forever. Is that it, Olivia?”
”I don't know what-”
”You're raw and untrained. It's all there, but your young mind doesn't quite know what to make of it. It misfires. It misidentifies. Your lore is correct, yet you are not applying it where it ought to be applied.” He lifted a gla.s.s. ”It's safe to accept my food and my drink. Just don't ask me for salt.” A soft laugh, as if sharing a private joke.
Again I opened my mouth to protest. But what good would that do? I knew this wasn't just a man.
Not a man? Not human? What the h.e.l.l else could he be?
”I don't understand,” I said finally.
He gave me a sympathetic look. ”I know. But you're a smart girl, and you'll figure it out as soon as you admit there's something to be figured out. About me. About Cainsville.”
”What about Cainsville?”
”What about it indeed. Just an ordinary little town. So very ordinary.”
”If you have something to tell me-”
”That's more like it. But I can't. Not my place. I'm just-” he pursed his lips, as if choosing his words ”-making contact. I have what you want, Olivia. I could get metaphysical and say that I have what your soul wants, what your heart and mind want, what you need to be happy and complete in your very uncommon life. And I do. But for now, I'll settle for saying that I have the answers you want. Particularly the ones you want most.”
”Which are those?”
”You know, just as you know, deep down, that when I say I knew your parents, I'm not talking about Arthur Jones and Lena Taylor.”
He reached into his pocket and tossed something to me. I caught it. A tooth. No, more like a tusk. A couple of inches long, carved with strange markings and capped with copper.
”A boar's tusk,” he explained. ”Or the tip of one. Keep it with you. For protection.”
”From what? The hounds?” I said before I could stop myself.
He smiled that indulgent you-are-such-a-child smile. ”You don't need protection from the hounds, Olivia. They mean you no harm. Nor do I. Others, however...” He stepped toward me and lowered his voice. ”Beware and be wary, bychan.”
Then he set the champagne flutes on the floor and started to walk away.
”Who are you?” I called after him.
He glanced back. ”Who? Is that really your question?”
”What are you?”
I met his gaze, and I heard the hounds baying, and I heard horses snorting and hooves pounding, and I smelled sweat and musk and wet earth.
”Cn Annwn,” I said, whispering the unfamiliar words as if they'd been pulled from me. I expected him to frown, to ask, ”What?” But he only chuckled, and then he walked away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
After the man left, I wandered back toward the party, dazed, as if I'd taken another blow to the head, the world fuzzy and off-kilter, the ground unsteady.
”Liv?”
I saw James hurrying toward me and snapped out of it.
”Hey,” I said. ”Sorry. Restroom break took a little longer than I thought.”
He laughed. ”It happens. I was starting-” He glanced at my hand. ”What's that?”