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 Tea, Theo said from the door.  Chamomile for you, Mari,
to calm you down; peppermint and honey with a healing in it
for you, Hanson, and I want you to drink every last drop. She
carried a mug in each hand, her dark hair tucked behind her
ears. The Power pouring out from her in a shifting tide of green
made Hanson beat a retreat for the other hallway.
 I have to clean up, he managed, around the lump suddenly
lodged in his throat. I just said something wrong, I can tell
from Mari s face. Damn my stupid mouth. I should never have
left her there.
He made it to the bathroom, closed the door, glanced briefly
at himself in the mirror, and winced. No wonder she was so
afraid of him
48 Lilith Saintcrow
What man? he suddenly thought. It took him by surprise.
He d barely been listening to Mari, intent on making sure she
was unhurt. What man was she talking about?
Later. Right now he needed to clean himself up. And not so
incidentally, give the symbiote a little time to work so he didn t
look so much like he d been put through a Cuisinart.
The wave of shudders shook him, and he grabbed at the
white porcelain lip of the sink. I almost died. I could have
died. It was a belrakan. I could have died.
 Get a hold on yourself, he whispered, looking down at
his hands. The worst of the blood was gone, but he would still
leave dark handprints on the pristine sink unless he cleaned up
after himself.  It s no different than any other day. You could
die any day. You re cannon fodder so she can live, old son.
She s more important. Now quit screwing around and get a
hold of yourself.
The porcelain creaked under the pressure of his fingers. He
loosened his grip slowly, one finger at a time.  She needs you,
he told himself.  Now stop it. It s not Astrid, she s not dead,
and she needs you.
That managed to spur him, and he glanced up at himself in
the mirror again. Pale blue eyes, gone dark and distant now,
closed off. That was good.
First things first. How about we get the blood off the face?
Nine
Theo and Dante left an hour later, Theo offering to open
the store tomorrow so Mari could sleep in. But Mari needed the
hours so she insisted that she could handle it. Theo finally gave
in, biting at her lower lip as if worried and let herself be
gracefully moved out the door. Dante closed her in the green
Subaru with one last, measuring look at the tired old wooden
house. Mari felt his awareness slide briefly over the protections.
He was checking, she realized, and that made her jaw set so
tightly she was afraid her teeth might splinter.
The papers still lay in her canvas purse. For the first time,
she hadn t brought something to Theo. She hadn t told Theo
about the strange man, either. Rossini. What kind of a name
was that?
On the other hand, she thought wryly, closing the front
door and locking it securely, I ve been hanging out with
Hanson, no last name, no first name even. I m hardly one to
judge.
He leaned against the wall. His hands were stuffed in his
pockets, and his pale hair was now clean and shoved ruthlessly
back from his face. His eyes were back to normal too pale,
icy blue, and fixed on her.  Feeling better? he asked.
How could a man wearing guns and several knives, not to
mention the sword poking up over his shoulder, sound so
uncertain?
 A little, she lied, shifting her weight from one foot to the
other.  Look, Hanson, I m sorry. I was dazed. I felt sick. Three
visions a day is too much.
He nodded.  It must be, he said softly, and he was looking
at her that way again, his pale eyes absolutely level and
absolutely focused on her.  You look a little tired. Going to
bed?
Mari shifted again, uncomfortably. I m an idiot. She crossed
her arms over her chest. What am I so afraid of? He d never
hit me. I know he d never hit me. He doesn t even raise his
voice, ever. But& oh, gods, he scares me. He looks at me like
I m a five course meal and he s starving.
The air crackled with tension. Her arms tightened,
defensively.  I was really worried about you, she said, finally.
 And you looked& What happened to you? Dante told me those
50 Lilith Saintcrow
things kill Watchers.
 It was just a fight, Mari, he answered.  Just another
predator. You re brighter now, more powerful. It brings bigger
lions to the water hole.
She winced. The awful mottling bruises and scrapes on his
face were fading. They healed quickly, at least.
But how many times am I going to see him like that, bloody
and limping and half dead?
 You re brooding again, he said quietly.
 Come with me, she said.  Bring your things.
She brushed past him, stamped into the living room, and
scooped his coat up off the couch. The leather was mostly
mended, but she had another hour s worth of work on it before
it was whole again. It was good practice. Some of the tears
were nasty, as if razors had shredded the tough material. And it
was so heavy. How did he move with all that weight?
 I can carry  he started, but she gave him a look that
silenced him and immediately felt guilty. He d almost gotten
killed tonight.
Because of her. Because of what she was.
She carried his coat down the hall and swept open the door
to her room. Her purse lay on her bed, a forlorn little patchwork
number she d bought four years ago. It was tattered and rumpled
and patched, its long strap repaired, like everything else she
owned. Sometimes Mari thought she carried a field of fraying
and patching around with her like the cloud around Pigpen in
the old Charlie Brown comics. Not like Theo, so calm and
impeccable. Or Elise, with her air of fierce glamour. No, just
plain, boring Mari with her patches and holes and ragged edges.
I ve got to stop this, or I won t sleep tonight. She took a
deep breath and dropped down on her bed.
Hanson tented his fingers, pushed the door slightly wider.
He carried nothing.  Mari? He sounded so unsure she almost
laughed.
 Come on in, she said.  Step into my parlor.
 Are you sure? He looked puzzled now, a faint line between
his pale eyebrows. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]