A Crack in Everything (30 page)

She snarled, baring her teeth, but it wasn’t an entirely aggressive expression. There was desperation in it as well. ‘What do you mean? You’re just a human, a talented one no doubt but you’re just—’

‘I’m the only touchstone you have.’

‘No!’ Silver turned away, every muscle tight with alarm, poised for escape. But she didn’t go. She looked back at him, shivering from head to toe. ‘Dylan … this isn’t what I intended. I swear it. I would never have done this to you if I’d … I don’t even know how it happened.’ She looked like she wanted to beg forgiveness, but naturally, the words stuck in her throat. Izzy saw tears well up in her pale eyes. Terrifying or not, Silver had
never intended this.

Dylan caught her arms, pulling her back to him, a surprisingly gentle gesture. ‘There’s a way to control it. To work this out, so we both can live. It won’t be easy, but there is a way.’

Silver slipped free of his arms, staring at him in confusion. She’d stopped retreating though. ‘There’s no way to break the spell of a Leanán Sídhe, Dylan. I warned you of that too.’

‘And no way for you to survive without a touchstone. That’s what they say. You should have died back in that cell. But Brí says differently.’

Silver’s expression froze. ‘And why would Brí share her secrets?’

‘Because Dylan tried to save me,’ said Izzy.

‘I
failed
to save you.’ He said it with half a laugh. ‘Jinx did that.’

‘No,’ Jinx admitted. ‘That was all Izzy. She saved herself, and us. All of us.’

‘Silver,’ Dylan murmured and held out his hand. ‘There is a way, and I will find it. It won’t be easy, it won’t be painless, but we can do it. If you’ll help me.’

She hesitated – how could she not? What he had said was probably an understatement of epic proportions. But here he was, a human, who should be her thrall, asking for her help. Holding such power over her, and not wielding it like a whip. Izzy could see the conflict in Silver’s beautiful eyes, but then she took his hand in hers. ‘Tell me what Brí said. We’ll work it out together. Then we’ll see what’s possible.’

Izzy watched them go, hand in hand, heads bent together as
they whispered of secrets.

Mum was asleep in the chair at Dad’s bedside. She looked childlike, all petite build, hair like gold. The differences between her and Izzy now stood out starkly to Izzy’s eyes. So clear that they weren’t related, now that she looked. Really looked. It didn’t matter. Mum was, and would always be, Mum. Izzy hesitated by the door and put her finger to her lips so that Jinx wouldn’t make a sound. Foolish really. He could move more quietly than any cat if he wanted to. But still, he smiled and nodded his agreement. He leaned against the door jamb, waiting for her.

There was a cup of water waiting on the locker. Izzy sat on the edge of the bed and picked it up. With her other hand, she steadied her Dad’s head and tipped the plastic cup until the water moistened his lips. No more than that.

If she needed a grail, she had to look no further than herself.

The effect was instantaneous. He grumbled something, in that indistinct, sleeping-Dad kind of way, like when she caught him nodding off in front of the news or halfway through the Sunday afternoon DVD he’d promised to watch with her. Izzy lowered him back down onto the pillow and his eyes flickered open.

Dad smiled weakly at her. ‘Well, now,’ his voice sounded rough and strained. But it was his voice and it was wonderful to hear. ‘You look like you’ve been in a war, sweetheart.’

‘Just a small one,’ she conceded.

His eyes narrowed, hardened in a way she wasn’t familiar with. The expression looked strange on his face, but at the same time clearly belonged there. ‘What sort of war?’

She surprised herself when she found a smile. ‘One you neglected to tell me about.’

Dad sighed, closed his eyes. ‘I never could find the right moment. How did you find out?’

She sat down on the edge of the bed, took his hand. His grip closed around her fingers, reassuring, secure. ‘It found me. But I managed.’

‘I see that. It doesn’t go away, Izzy. It never goes away. I guess we wanted to spare you for as long as possible. To give you a normal, happy childhood.’

‘And you did.’ Tears stung her eyes and she squeezed his hand. She didn’t feel like a child any more, but with Dad, that didn’t matter. She would always be his daughter. ‘Brí isn’t best pleased.’

He let out something like a sigh, which was more than half a groan. ‘Brí is
never
best pleased.’

‘Yeah, I got that much. My mother? Really?’

For a moment she wished he would say ‘no’, at the same time knowing he wouldn’t. But just for that second, she wondered if he would make that go away with a word.

He went white and then the shame in his face was enough of an answer. ‘Yes. It was … I’m sorry, Izzy, I—’

Izzy panicked, not ready to hear this, not ready for any of
it. He was still her dad. He was a Grigori. Part of her couldn’t bear for him to be human too, to admit failings and weakness, mistakes and regrets.

‘It’s old news,’ she said, cutting him off. ‘And it doesn’t matter. Not really. I’ve made peace with it, with her, I think. You’re my family. You and Mum.’ She looked over her shoulder to where Mum slept. She knew too and had said nothing. But it was in the past.

‘And him?’ He nodded towards Jinx, standing just beyond the doorway. Dad didn’t miss a thing. And Izzy wouldn’t have expected any less.

‘He’s good. I promise.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do.’ As she said it, Mum murmured something, almost waking, and Dad’s attention shifted slightly. Torn. The adult thing was to take pity on them, give them the space they needed. And though the childish part of her didn’t want to, Izzy smiled. ‘Later on, you can tell me everything. I’ll hold you to that. I’ll be outside, if you need anything.’

She kissed his forehead and Dad wrapped his arm around her, his embrace so strong that she knew she’d never need to fear anything with him watching out for her. But just occasionally, if needs be, she could look out for him as well.

Jinx stepped back to let her out, her shadow, her guard and more. Izzy wrapped her arm with his and led him away as her father softly called her mother’s name.

‘Rachel?’

Izzy kept walking. Away from the exclamations and the endearments, away from the two people who needed just each other right now.

She’d go back later, she promised herself.

But for now, they deserved to be together. Jinx stopped at the end of the corridor, pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. She nestled against him, her cheek pressed to his chest while his heart thundered away like a stampede.

She knew the sound. Hers was doing the same thing.

A long way from an alley with an angel painted on a wall. A long way from the girl who had first met him.

The mark on the back of her neck warmed again, and this time it wasn’t frightening. It was the sense of coming home.

RUTH FRANCES LONG is a lifelong fan of fantasy and romance. She studied English Literature, History of Religions, and Celtic Civilisation in college and now works in a specialised library of rare and unusual books. But they don’t talk to her that often. Ruth Frances Long is also the author of The
Treachery of Beautiful Things
.

A Hollow in the Hills

BY RUTH FRANCES LONG

W
hen Holly unleashes an ancient and forbidden power, Izzy and her father must prevent the war in heaven spilling across the earth. But when Izzy refuses to sacrifice Jinx, she sets in motion a chain of events which will see them hunted through the Sídhe-ways, across the city and into the hills, where Izzy will face the greatest challenge of all. In the deepest and darkest Hollow, an angel of death is waiting and the price he asks for his help might be too high.