Midnight Bites (41 page)

And he had a book clutched in his grimy, shaking hands.

As Jesse killed people with claws and teeth and clubs, defending that babbling crazy man on the ground, the Myrnin I knew let go of me and moved into view. He took on solidity and color as he did, and the contrast was pretty harsh. I hadn't appreciated how relatively sane he was now, until I saw the before picture. That trembling wreck
wasn't anybody I would have normally recognized, except for the eyes and the chin.

“Give it to me,” Modern Myrnin said, and bent to grab the book. Ancient Myrnin snarled at him and held on, looking feral. “Give it to me, fool! You're going to destroy it, and I need it!”

I guessed Ancient Myrnin wasn't too keen on it, because he dropped the book and launched himself at Modern Myrnin's throat, and
damn
, that was some vicious killer instinct at work. Jesse was scary, but that old, crazy hobo was something way, way worse. And it was pretty clear that Modern, Mostly Sane Myrnin wasn't about to win that fight
at all
.

At least until he called out to Lady Grey. “Please!” he shouted. “Help me subdue him!”

She turned, teeth bared, and blinked in shock. Two Myrnins. Yeah, that might have done it. “Who are you?” Jesse demanded. She backhanded some street thug who tried to grab her. “What sorcery is this?”

“Science, they call it now,” Modern Myrnin said. “Assistance!”

He blurted that last part out, and it choked off because Old Crazy Myrnin had seized hold of his throat. Jesse didn't hesitate. She flashed forward, grabbed Crazy Myrnin, and made him let go. She held on to him, stroking his matted hair as he shook and stared and made weird noises. Modern Myrnin stared at them with a look I hoped I'd never see again . . . kind of like looking back into hell and seeing yourself.

“I need the book,” he told Jesse. “Please. He'll take it from here and destroy it, and if I don't have it now, where I am . . .”

“I don't understand how this is possible,” she said. She had the same fire as the Jesse I knew, the same challenge, and she shook her broken arm in annoyance. Bones slipped back together. It must have hurt, but she ignored the pain. I didn't see any sign of the mob now, except for the dead ones that still littered the ground around them.
Didn't really blame them for running; I might have backed down, too, faced with that look in her eyes. “Are you
Myrnin
? But he is here.”

“That me is broken,” he said. “I'm much better now. But, Lady Grey, I must have the book. I must. Please. Do this for me, for the care you take of me in this moment. It will make no difference to him, because all he longs for is your touch, your kindness. Books are meaningless to him, and will be for some time.”

“But not to you. Does he improve?”

Modern Myrnin spread his arms and bowed. “As you see.”

“You hardly dress any better,” she said. “But I see spirit in your eyes that is absent in him now, and that . . . that is what I would hope to see.”

She reached out and gently tugged the bloodstained book free of Crazy Myrnin's grip. He made a croak like a crow, not words, just distress, and grabbed for it, but she eased his hand away, and he let it go. Instead, he just grabbed for her, and held on.

It was her broken arm, but she didn't flinch. She held the book out to Modern Myrnin, and as his fingers touched it, there was a spark of light between them, almost like static electricity. She gasped and let go of it. Myrnin shoved it in the pocket of his coat, but he was staring at her, and I knew that look. Hell, I felt it every time I looked at Claire. Hunger. Longing. Fever.

“Take care of me,” Myrnin said. “You're the only reason I lived, my lady. Or continue to live, even now. Remember me, I beg you.”

For a lady who'd just killed a lot of men, she looked kind of vulnerable right then . . . and sort of sweet, under the blood.

“It isn't every day I see a man from the future,” she said. “I can scarce forget.”

He smiled, and he bowed to her again, deeper, and stepped back toward me. Close enough to grab. “Shane,” he said. “I believe I'm ready to—”

Lady Grey was right there, all of a sudden, and she reached for his hand. He let her take it. “You'll not go anywhere,” she said, “until you explain yourself, Myrnin of the future. You know what will happen, yes? Tell me.
Tell me.
Shall I follow Amelie to the New World? Or stay here?”

“I can't,” he said, very gently. “I can't tell you what to do, my lady. You must choose it on your own. I've done enough.”

She looked back at the crazier, dirtier version of him, huddled now in a crouch on the ground, and said, “I love him, you know. He has . . . vision. And freedom.”

“He's quite mad,” Myrnin said. “But I suppose you know that, too.”

“I know. But I can't let him be slaughtered in the streets. I'll see him safe.”

“Yes. You will.”

She turned again, facing him, and I figured that was the end of it . . . but she didn't let him go. “If you know me, you'll know that I've never been much for propriety,” she said. “I do what I like.”

“It is your very best quality—”

She cut him off by planting a kiss on him. Not a little peck on the cheek, oh no—a full-on press of her lips on his, with her arms slipping around him and holding on, and wow, that was a
kiss
. He seemed shocked at first, and then he got into it. Well, I could understand that, although I really didn't need to see it; his hands traveled up her sides, her arms, cupped the sides of her head, and she moaned and pressed up against him, and he didn't seem to mind that
at all
. In fact, he gave it right back, to the point where I was starting to wonder just how far this was going to go, because—
damn
.

And then Jesse pulled back, lips red and eyes wild, and whispered, “Stay. Stay with me. I need you to stay.”

“No,” Myrnin said. He didn't sound too convinced. “I can't.”

“I've been alone for so long, and this—this
you
is more my patient than anything else. I love him, but he's broken, and will be so long in healing. Just bide with me a day. Only a day.”

“I . . . can't . . .”

Yeah, that sounded like a man who was seriously thinking about it. And he hadn't let her go. He brushed hair back from her pale face and kissed her again. Hard. This was
not
a side of Myrnin I'd ever really imagined seeing. I was starting to hope I never saw it again, because I couldn't help but see Claire in Jesse's place, and that was an
oh, hell no
kind of experience.

“Hey, man,” I said to him. “Gotta go. Come on.”

He didn't listen. I reached for him at the extent of my stretch, not letting go of the button, and got him. I grabbed hold of the back of his coat, and dragged him a step back to where I could get a good grip on his collar.

Lady Grey turned on me, snarling, and the frustrated anger in her eyes made me remember all the men she'd just laid out dead on the street. Whoa. There was wanting, and then there was
wanting
. This lady wasn't used to being told no.

He hadn't told me so, but I figured it must be time to bail. Myrnin hadn't made it clear whether I needed to be touching skin or just his clothes, but I grabbed the cold back of his neck before I let go of the button.

And the darkness cut off like . . . well, like somebody had flipped on the lights. And Myrnin and I were standing there in the same place, next to the lab table, and the only difference was that he had a book in the pocket of his coat, and he was shaking like a leaf. He put his hands to his face. To his lips.

“Sorry to be your anti-wingman,” I told him, “but you said don't let you stay. Looked like you were tempted to me.”

“Tempted,” he repeated faintly. “Yes. She is very tempting. She was . . . different in those days. Less in control. More . . . feral.”

“
Sexy as hell
is the phrase you're looking for.”

He glanced at me and turned away, bracing his hands on the lab table, head down.

“So, you got what you wanted? This book thing?”

“Yes,” he said. “With it, I can rebuild many of the systems on which I based Morganville, but better. More powerful. So why do I feel that I've . . . lost something? Left something?”

“Because you didn't get to have the wild sexy night with Victorian Jesse?”

“She was
not
Jesse. Not then. She was . . . Lady Grey. And Lady Grey only. But she never . . . We have never . . . It was more that I idolized her. She saved me. She brought me out of the dark and back from the dead, in many ways that matter. And I feel . . . robbed of knowing more of her now.”

“Good thing you told me to pull you back,” I said. “What would have happened if you'd stayed and I let go of the button, anyway?”

“I'd have died. More importantly, I suppose, I would have never existed. Two of the same cannot exist in the same space and time. The only reason this was possible was my tether, using the box, to this time. There are calculations, if you'd care to see them. . . .”

“Pass,” I blurted. “And if you'd have never existed . . .”

“Morganville would never have existed,” he said. “Or at least, not in this form. The world would change. You might not be here. Claire might not. Things would be . . . quite different.”

I didn't want different. I shuddered to think about it, actually. “Thanks for warning me about that up front, man.”

“I didn't!”

“Sarcasm. Look it up.”

“Oh. Well, you see, I didn't tell you because I knew if I had explained the stakes, you'd have not allowed me to go.”

Suspicion struck me. “That's why you didn't get
Claire
to do this. She'd have figured it out. Right?”

“Right,” he said. “Whereas you're not as . . . ah . . .”

“It's okay to say I'm not as smart. Not many people are.”

“Very true. And I'm sure you have other sterling qualities. Sports, perhaps. Something like that.”

I kind of wanted to kick his ass, but he did look like he'd had some part of his heart ripped out, so it probably would have been mean. Also, he'd have killed me if I'd tried.

“So, am I done?” I asked him. “Because I need twelve kinds of showers.”

He was looking off into the distance. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose we're done here.”

“Not until I get paid, man.”

He shook his head, pulled open a drawer, and pulled out a wadded fistful of money. I grabbed for it before it could start falling to the floor, where something might eat it in the chaos. Wow. All hundreds. “Um . . . I think that's too much.”

“Is it? Oh, never mind; take it and go.”

I didn't argue about it. I headed for the stairs, and the lights came on to guide my way . . . and lit up the modern, leather-clad Jesse, Lady Grey, sitting halfway down the steps in what would have been the darkness until I'd triggered the motion detectors.

She looked . . . strange.

“Hey, Jess,” I said, and she nodded to me, but her eyes were fixed past me, on Myrnin. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” she said. “I'd forgotten. Isn't that odd? To forget something like that? So much time. Or maybe I wanted to forget.”

Yeah, no doubt, she'd seen it all. From this spot, she'd have had a
balcony view of Myrnin's past, I guessed—and of her own. She was rubbing her arm as if she remembered it being broken.

“Well . . . see you,” I said.

She nodded and stood up as I passed.

Across the room, Myrnin raised his head to meet her eyes, and he straightened, as if wary of what she was going to do. I'm not going to lie—I paused at the top of the steps, and watched.

Jesse crossed slowly to him, and silently held out her hand. He took it.

“Too long,” she said. “Too long. The girl I was then is long gone, you know. I've changed.”

“I've changed, too,” he said. “Well, I bathe now. And I'm less insane. But yes, it's been too long. We can't go back to . . . what never was. It's for the best.”

“Oh, my sweet fool, that's not what I meant at
all
.”

And she kissed him. Same kind of kiss. Same kind of unexpected flash of passion. And Myrnin, caught by surprise, just stood there . . . until he put his hands up, traveling slowly up her sides, her arms, to cup her head as he kissed her more deeply, more fully.

Yeah, I knew how that felt. And I knew where it was heading.

So I left.

What? I'm not a perv. Much.

•   •   •

I parked the Murdermobile out front, next to Eve's black hearse—they made a hell of a curbside statement—and jogged up the walk to the front door, keys in hand. Nobody tried to eat my face, which was nice. I got inside, slammed the locks, and turned to see Claire standing in the hallway. She gave me a look that was half-resigned, half-appalled, and all hers.

“Really?” she asked, and sighed. “Wow. And also, you smell.”

“Wow,” I agreed. “Blame your boss. Also, you really need to teach him about money. But maybe not until I do a few more jobs.”

“Funny. How about you go straight upstairs and take at least one layer of dirt off? I guess there must be clothes under that, so maybe throw those in a garbage bag and I'll do the laundry.”

“Laundry?” Eve popped her head around the corner, and her Goth-rimmed eyes widened. “Holy
shit
, did you crawl out of a sewer? Because I can smell you from here, and that is a whole world of gross.”

“Hey, nice to see you, too, Vampirella. What did you want?”

“Well, I
was
going to say that I'd put some stuff in the laundry, too, but again, oh, hell no to that. Try not to get whatever is on you on anything I have to touch, okay?”