Wild Ride (51 page)

Dreamland was beautiful again.

“I like it,” she said to the clown to her right, the one who was alive, looked like Young Fred, and kept trying to put his arm around her.

“That's a lot of your work gone,” Fun said.

“The good stuff is still there,” Mab said, patting the upflung wooden arm of the clown to her left. “And what isn't needed changed anyway. Some change is good. I don't ever want to see those little monsters from the cruise again. They were always creepy, even before they tried to kill me.”

“Where's the money for all of this coming from?” Fun said.

“You're worried about money?” Mab said. “That's not like you.”

“This is where my kid is going to grow up,” Fun said. “I want the place safe.”

“From Ray,” Mab said. “He left me everything, and his lawyer is putting the will through since Oliver certified his, uh, heart attack as his attending doctor. So far, nobody's come looking for a body. And the good news is, Ray was one rich bastard. We're going to be fine.”

She turned to look at him in the bright sunlight, still a little disconcerted that he was Young Fred, although the real Fun was starting to seep
through already, the nose sharper and beginning to hook a little, the hair curlier, the grin crooked. By the time she got back, Young Fred would be . . . well, a Fun Young Fred. He might have liked that.

Down below, Glenda put the last bag in Ray's RV, got in, and honked the horn.

“I have to go,” Mab said, standing up. “I have many adventures ahead.”

“You sure you're okay?” Fun said. “I mean, you know, the baby?”

“Delphie Vanth will be fine. Although God knows what she'll turn out like.”

“She will be unpredictable, hardworking, fun-loving, and intelligent,” Fun said. “The world may not be ready for her yet.” He sounded proud.

“Well, the world has eight and a half months to brace itself.”

“But I'm the kid's father, right?” Fun said. “I mean, you'll tell her it's me.”

“Yeah,” Mab said. “I'll tell her.”
Then I'll tell her to count on Ethan and Oliver, not on you. You'll love her all you can, but . . .

“I'll be here for her,” he said as if he'd read her mind. “I like Dreamland.” He leaned back a little to smile up at her. “You sure you don't want to give us another shot? I can't leave this body without it dying, so—”

“I'm positive,” Mab said. “You're a liar, and you're always going to be a liar. It's your nature. And lies kill love, eat it away like acid. If I stay with you, you'll take away everything you gave me, all this happiness, all this confidence, all this joy. So we're done.”

His smile had faded. “I can change.”

“No, you can't,” Mab said. “And you don't want to. I don't want you resenting me any more than I want me resenting you. Let it go, Fun. The world is full of beautiful women who would love to be with you for a weekend.”

“They're not you,” Fun said.

“I'm not the me you knew anymore,” Mab said. “Now I'm somebody who demands love and honesty and respect and connection. I deserve it all. And with a little luck, I'm going to get it.”

“Oliver, right?”

“Maybe,” Mab said, smiling as she remembered Cindy saying, “So is Oliver a demon in the sack?” and the look on her face when Mab had said,
“No, he's a dragon.” She looked down at Fun and shook her head. “It's not about Oliver. I love you, I do, but you can't give me what I need.” She took a deep breath. “And now I'm free.”

Fun smiled up at her, sitting in her shadow, not quite as sure as he had been. “Anything I can do for you before you go?”

“Tell Ethan we left,” Mab said. “We decided to go on the spur of the moment last night. Glenda's idea. I haven't told him, because you know Ethan. Overprotective.”

“Oh, thanks,” Fun said. “ ‘Hey, Ethan, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is your sister just took your mother on a road trip. The good news is, she took the crow, too.' ”

“Raven.” Mab patted his arm. “Just tell him to put up the bat signal if he needs help. And you have a good time seducing Ashley.”

Fun grinned. “Caught on to that, did you? Of course, you did.” He stood up, too. “It won't be the same.”

“I should hope to hell not,” Mab said, and tried to move by him.

He bent and kissed her swiftly, and she stayed in the kiss for a minute because it was good, and because she did love him, even if he was a lying, cheating, evil, Trickster demon clown, but she kept her eyes shut because he still looked too much like Young Fred for the whole thing to be anything but weird.

Then she patted him on the arm again and climbed down the ladder to the RV, really glad to be leaving him behind.

 

“W
hat's happening in Department 51?” Ethan asked, looking out over Dreamland from the top of the Keep, where he'd been keeping an eye on his sister and her demon ex-lover. “Why isn't Oliver here?”

“He's swamped,” Weaver said. “He got Ursula's job since she disappeared, and nobody else knows what the hell goes on in the department. He'll cover for us. He still wants to research demons, but he thinks it's done best without sending anything up the chain of command—or someone like Ursula will get stupid ideas.”

“That's good.” He looked at the destruction in his park and thought,
Hell
, but overall, the park was in decent shape, and Mab had big plans for
its future and probably hers, if Oliver would get his head out of Department 51 and come back. “How about you?”

“How about me what?” Weaver said.

“You work for the government.”

“Not anymore,” Weaver said, turning to him. “I don't exist anymore. Oliver saw to that for me.”

“But your career—”

“I'm Guardia.” Weaver put her arms around him. “That's more than enough.” She frowned and rapped on his chest. “Where's the vest?”

Ethan pulled her close. “I'm in Ohio and the demons are all gone. What do I need a bulletproof vest for?”

He leaned in to kiss her, and Beemer flapped down to land on Weaver's shoulder, shoving him aside, much lighter on his wings after a week of practice but still one big-ass velvet demon.

“Well, not all the demons are gone,” Weaver said, reaching up to pat Beemer on his gold lamé chest.

Ethan stared at Beemer, and Beemer stared back. Then the dragon curled his tail around Weaver's neck and ducked his head to the side, giving Ethan room to lean in and kiss her.

Dreamland
, Ethan thought.
Where anything is possible
.

And then he kissed Weaver.

The purple velvet dragon claw in his ear didn't bother him at all.

 

“I
do not approve of you kissing demons,” Glenda called back to Mab as she loaded her suitcase into the RV. “Did you tell Ethan we were going?”

“No, I told the demon to do it.” Mab slammed the back door shut and then moved up to look through Glenda's window into the backseat. “Everybody strapped in?”

Delpha's ashes sat on the seat behind the driver's seat, secure in their brass dragon urn, taped down with duct tape. Frankie rode shotgun on the same seat, looking vaguely interested in the new routine. On the other side, behind Glenda, Vanth's booth was crammed in.

“Ready, Mom?” Mab said.

There was a whirr, and a card plopped out.

Glenda picked it up. “She thinks we should bring your father.”

“I'm still not over him trying to kill me,” Mab said to Vanth. “I hold grudges. But you're going to love the Statue of Liberty.”

“We're all going to love the Statue of Liberty,” Glenda said, and then she nodded past Mab. “Somebody wants to talk to you.”

Mab turned around and saw Oliver standing in front of the Dream Cream, his hands in his pockets, regarding the RV with puzzlement, so she walked over.

“Well, hello, stranger,” she said. “You never call, you never write—”

“I have called you every night,” he said, and bent down and kissed her lightly, and she smiled against his mouth.

“It's not enough,” she said softly.

“I'm here now and I have the whole weekend,” he said, and then nodded to the RV. “Why do I have a bad feeling about that?”

“Because I'm leaving on a road trip,” she told him. “My newly acquired mothers haven't been out of Dreamland for forty years, so I'm taking them all to see the Statue of Liberty.”

He nodded solemnly. “Good idea. How long are you going to be gone?”

“A couple of weeks,” she said, and he closed his eyes. “We'll definitely be back by Thanksgiving. Glenda and Cindy want to do a big Thanksgiving dinner deal. You'll be here for that, right?”

He nodded. “I'll be here for that. By then I should have gotten everything straightened out at work, and I can really be here. No more phone calls.”

“Work. I bet they all love you there,” Mab said, and looked up into his handsome, sane, serious face and thought,
Delpha made a mistake.
This guy was her destiny, he had to be—

“I think love may be pushing it,” Oliver was saying. “They seem grateful for the sanity.”

“I'm grateful for the sanity,” Mab said.

“Hurry back, Mab,” he said, looking down at her.

Fun would have been smiling. Oliver looked like he was going to miss her.

“I will,” Mab said. “I want to get to know you a lot better.” She laughed. “I don't even know your last name.”

“It's Oliver.”

She blinked at him. “Your name is Oliver Oliver?”

“No, my name is Joe Oliver.”

“Your name is Joe,” Mab said, and heard Delpha say,
His name is Joe,
and the park swung around her and settled into place.

“I don't like the name Joe much,” Oliver said, “but you can call me anything you want,” and she laughed in the sunlight in front of the Dream Cream, and said,
“Joe.”

“I'm missing something, aren't I?” he said.

She took a step closer to him. “It's
very
good to meet you, Joe,” she said, suffused with happiness, and then he leaned in and kissed her, and she put her hands on his strong arms to steady herself because the kiss was a mind-bender: strong and sure and dark and hot, the dragon of her dreams, her one true and future love.

Delpha was never wrong.

“Hurry back,” he said again against her mouth, and she laughed, and then went around the RV and climbed into the driver's seat.

“I approve of you kissing that nice boy,” Glenda said.

“I do, too,” Mab said, and punched up “What Love Can Do” on Ray's cassette player, waved good-bye to Oliver, put the RV in gear, and drove across the causeway, heading east out of Dreamland with no worries at all.

She'd seen where they were going, and it was good.