A Sliver of Shadow (35 page)

Perfection.

I shook my head, amazed at my own gall. Talivar had no such recourse, beyond Glamour. I shut my eyes against the imagined hurt.

“You shouldn’t be here.” My voice was strangled. “Please go.”

He exhaled, the sound puffing against my ear. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” One hand slid over my shoulder, a miniature explosion of heat prickling my skin.

“No,” I admitted. “But you don’t get to do this, Ion. You left me. Swore up and down that you couldn’t be what I needed. That you wanted more for
me
.”

“And you think Talivar is it?”

“I have no idea. It may be something. It may be nothing. But guess what? It’s none of your business. That’s what letting go of someone means.” I sagged onto the bed. “And I’ve got too much going on right now to have to worry about … this. Us. Whatever.”

He stared out the window. “It’s funny. I never thought I would be jealous of an elf.”

“Whatever happened to all that stuff about how you wouldn’t grow old with me or give me kids or the rest of all that shit you were too presumptuous to talk about with me?”

“You’d have the same age problem dating the prince.”

“Yeah, I suppose so and that’s a right bitch, but thus far he’s made no assumptions. For all I know we’ll merely have a nice torrid affair and then he’ll settle down with a lovely Faery lady and that will be that.” I paused, wondering why that idea bothered me so much. “I mean, shit. You and I… we had a week or two, tops. And the sex was great. I can’t deny we had a connection, but what was it based on, really? Did you ever think that maybe the reason I was so attracted to you was because I’m a Dreamer? You’re an incubus … it would make sense for me to—”

His finger found my lips, shushing me with a single motion. “That was the point I was trying to make before.”

“But you never even gave us a chance. How was I supposed to get to know
you
?” I frowned at him. “Maybe that’s the real issue. Talivar’s been with me for nearly eight months now. I do his laundry sometimes, for Christ’s sake. Even if he wasn’t interested in me, I’d still know him better in some ways. At least the mundane ones,” I added. It was hard to completely argue the point with the incubus who’d lived in my head for nearly the same amount of time.

He raised a brow and for a moment the edges of his skin went blurry as he shifted. I blinked. He’d become an old man, crow’s feet and tired mouth, sagging ears and hollowed cheeks.

“Kept the full head of hair, I see.”

“Vanity,” he retorted. “It’s my only vice.” He twitched again, the haziness melting away, returning to his normal state. He reached out to stroke my cheek. Against my better judgment, I let him, my face sinking into the warmth of his palm.

A sad chuckle escaped me. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re here because you still think you love me, or simply because you can’t stand to see me with someone else.”

“What if it’s both?”

“But nothing’s changed. Sure, it’s great you can take on the semblance of age, but it’s not real. How are you going to feel when I’m forty-five? Fifty-five? Where will we be when I’m seventy and drooling with saggy tits and a flat ass?”

“You don’t get it. It’s never been about what you look like.” He pursed his lips, kneeling beside the bed, but didn’t touch me. “It’s the Dreamer in you that I love. The physical part of it, your age, your weight … none of it matters.” He tapped my forehead. “It’s all about this.”

“Then why leave me in the first place?” I punched him in the shoulder, anger and hurt warring with the sudden urge to pull him onto the bed. When he didn’t answer, I shrugged. “Well, I still meant what I said—there’s too much going on here right now. And regardless of what’s happening between me and Talivar, I’m not going to rub you in his face like a dog. He doesn’t deserve that.” I cracked a small grin at him. “You’re a complication I don’t need, Ion.”

His eyes flared gold. “Touché,” he murmured. The silence stretched out between us and I became terribly aware of how dark the room had become. The sun had set fifteen minutes ago.

“Aren’t we supposed to go down for dinner or something?”

“Or something. Though with Melanie here we might actually get some real music. Thomas doesn’t play in public often anymore—the Queen is too jealous of his attention to allow it.”

I shook myself. “That’s right. You don’t know, do you?” I gave him the quick and dirty version of my history, revealing the necklace, my new relationship with Moira, and that I did, in fact, have a father.

When I was done, his gaze rolled down to my necklace for a moment. He began to laugh. Ripples of amusement
rolled off of him as he sagged onto the bed, his entire body shaking with it. My own lips twitched in answer and before I knew it I’d joined him, the absurdity of our entire situation finally bubbling up in torrid waves of hysterical giggles.

Wiping at my eyes, I held my stomach when it began to ache. “God, I’m so fucked.”

His mouth pursed. “You could be.” And then I was in his arms, and he was kissing me, the tension between us released in a blistering wave. I let it sweep past me for a moment more, our tongues probing hard and fast. My towel was half undone, falling open as he ground his hips against my belly.

I broke away from him, my body sighing in protest, and I had to wonder at its own sense of moral ambiguity. After all, I’d made love to Talivar the night before and here I was attempting to make the beast with two backs only a few short hours later… with my ex.

The incubus groaned, taking the moment to plant a soft kiss beneath my right breast and sucking hard. “There, now,” he said, his eyes flaring with satisfaction. “Marked as mine.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Ion, there’s like ten of them down there. It’s not like anyone else would know.”

A feral grin curved his mouth. “I’ll know.” He stood, carefully replacing the towel across my chest. “Shall I see you at dinner, then? Perhaps you might save a dance for me.”

“Assuming I can even find something to dance in, yeah. I guess.” I hesitated. “And, um … thank you for coming. I’m sorry it’s become such a cluster.”

“I find the towel rather charming.” He smirked, and I half debated throwing it in his face, but that clearly wasn’t the right response. “And I
never
mind coming, Abby.”

“Get out.” I pointed at the window. “And try not to
break anything on the way down. I suspect the Fae won’t be particularly sympathetic to your cause if I’m forced to call a healer.”

He blew me a kiss and slipped out onto the trellis with a rustling of leaves. I fought the urge to watch him climb down and lost, feeling like a whorish Rapunzel as he disappeared into the darkness and out into the garden.

A scratch at the shared door had me wrapping the towel a little tighter. “Yeah?”

“Abby, it’s Mel. Can I come in?” The door cracked open as she peered into the room. “Decent?”

“Eh. Sorta. Haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to wear yet.” Of course, I’d sent away the serving girls or ladies’ maids or whatever they were the moment the bath water was hot enough. Maybe that’s how it was done here, but extra people poking at me make me nervous.

“Did you look in the wardrobe?” Melanie rolled her eyes at me and made a beeline for the great hunk of furniture, ignoring my gasp of surprise. Great sweeps of emerald cloth crossed behind her shoulders, somehow giving her a plunging neckline
and
a scooped back. A delicate tattoo of spiraling thorns crept over her right shoulder blade. “Gee, there’s almost enough cloth dragging behind you to make you a real dress.”

She shrugged. “I think I put it on upside down, but I don’t really care.” She kicked out her feet to reveal her calf-high Doc Martens still in full effect. “I’m not dancing in these anyway. Besides green with red hair… it’s such a cliché.”

The door to the wardrobe opened with a welcoming creak, a light cedar scent drifting from the darkness. Melanie made a little noise and pulled out an elegant sapphire dress.

I looked at it dubiously, feeling the cloth with a curious finger. “It’s the right color, anyway.”

Melanie made a scoffing sound and yanked the towel from me, ignoring my protests. “Nice hickeys,” she noted dryly, throwing the dress at me. “Go try this on—we’re gonna be late.”

I grumbled something rude to her, but wriggled my way into the gown. Surprisingly it fit well, the bodice tight but breathable, the skirt falling just below my knees. “It’s a bit conservative, don’t you think?”

“Compared to what? The piece of shit I’m wearing? Sure, I suppose so. Actually, it’s a bit like a ballet dress, don’t you think?”

I eyed my reflection. “Could be a little poofier at the top, maybe, but yeah. I guess so.” I twirled about for a moment, watching it flare out to expose the lower half of my thighs, a ghost of a memory settling over me. “All I need are some pointe shoes.”

“Hmmph. Ask and you shall receive.” Melanie opened up a box to reveal a matching pair of ballet toe shoes.

“Gee, this is a bit much don’t you think?”

“Maybe it’s a magic wardrobe?” She waggled her fingers mockingly. “As you can tell, I’m clearly the Faery harlot of the night.”

“They’re even the real thing.” I rapped my knuckles on the stiff base before glancing down at my feet. “I don’t know if I even have the calluses for this sort of thing anymore.” A year ago, two years ago, I’d had the ugly, blistered toes of the professional dancer. I’d barely even had toenails on my left foot.

A few years of inactivity hadn’t quite fixed them, but they weren’t the tattered mess of before, I realized with a pang. Battle scars of another sort altogether. “I’ll put them on, but I don’t think I’ll be wearing them for very long.” I slipped into them, wrapping the ribbons around my calves. “I look ridiculous.”

“Actually, you look a lot like your old self.” A soft smile touched her lips. “It’s nice to see, Abby.”

I pliéd carefully in fifth position and then rose to pointe, a lump in my throat as my body remembered its former glory. My knee held up surprisingly well, but even I knew not to be fooled by that. It had gotten stronger over the last year, but not enough to convince me it would ever truly heal.

Still, I couldn’t quite help circling my arms before lifting my bad leg behind me as I shifted into arabesque and then leaned forward into penché. My lower back shrieked in protest and I grasped the bed for support, sucking in a deep breath. My legs strained with muscles stiff from disuse, and if my former teachers had seen it I would have been scolded into next week, but the old spark of excitement burst into my veins, as though I would simply turn and pirouette into the past. And yet I held myself quiet, finally exhaling myself into first position, my leg lowering and sweeping into fourth.

Melanie applauded with a cheeky wink. “Brava!”

I let out a gasp as my arches started to cramp and I shook my head, sinking onto the bed to untie the shoes. “And that’s enough of that, I think. Fairy tales are lovely, but I don’t have time to break these in. Halfway down the hallway and I’d be leaving a bloody trail a mile wide.”

“That’s a tasty thought.” She dug in the wardrobe again and flushed out a pair of strappy sandals that would be far easier on my feet. “Look at it this way. At least they weren’t enchanted or something. It would really suck if you were forced to dance yourself to death.”

I rolled my eyes at her and attempted to do something with my hair.

At least that was something I remembered how to do.

There was a beetle swimming in my soup. At least it was round and had legs. Beyond that I wasn’t going to look too
closely. I wasn’t going to eat it either, so I carefully shoved the bowl toward the edge, leaving the spoon untouched. I didn’t know if it was a mistake or a joke or what, but it was
not
going in my mouth.

My stomach rumbled in protest and I snagged a roll from a nearby woven basket. Bread was usually safe, right? I nibbled at the crust, watching Phineas demolishing his own bowl of soup with sloppy gusto.

“Eww,” I cringed as he licked his lips.

He snorted disdainfully. “Suit yourself, but jewel beetles are a delicacy here. Besides—” He crunched down on something hard for a moment, rolling it around on his tongue. Spitting gracelessly into the bowl, he gestured at something winking in the milky liquid. “If you do it right, you get to keep the jewel when you’re done.”

I shuddered. “No thanks. You’ve got a leg sticking out of your mouth, by the way.”

His tongue swiped it away. “I’d forgotten how nice it is to be pampered.” I wasn’t sure if he’d been given a set of rooms of his own, but wherever he’d been, they’d certainly cleaned him up. His coat shone almost silver and the dandelion fluff of his mane puffed out like a resplendent cirrus cloud.

“You drool on my pillow and molest my underwear, Phin. What else were you hoping for?”

“True enough,” he said thoughtfully. “Plus I get to look at your boobies.”

“Be still my beating heart.” I slouched in my chair, weariness overtaking me again. We were seated in what could only be described as a great hall of some kind. Much larger than the throne room had been and decorated with pale white marble. Above us the branches had been pulled back to reveal the night sky, glittering balls of witchlight pulsing like iridescent disco balls. I’d been shoved out of the way into a convenient corner, farthest away from the long table
where the royal family was ensconced. Their voices were low and unheard over the din of the other diners.

I couldn’t really blame them for putting me here. When my name had been announced with Moira and Melanie, my elven escort blanched and quickly dumped me as soon as he could. Obviously everyone had decided I was out of favor with the Queen. Not much point in risking another outburst like this afternoon, after all. On the other hand, it allowed me a singular vantage point where I could observe the comings and goings of the others undisturbed. The Queen herself had not arrived until I’d been seated, Talivar trailing behind her.

She had changed from her dress of rags into a soft silken gown of amethyst. The simplicity of it displayed the beauty of her race to alabaster perfection. My father escorted her easily, dressed in a tartan. I blinked.
Well, he was Scottish, after all,
my inner voice reminded me.