Benji refused to let me join her in the hunt for my captor. "She'd see you coming from a mile away." She was nice about it, but no matter what I said, she didn't budge an inch. Instead, she strongly suggested I let Moose give me a ride home.
I sulked in the car because being angry was better than being a chaotic, stressed-out maniac. About halfway home, I noticed Moose's right hand was badly swollen.
"It's fine," he said. "Just a bruise."
"Thank you for coming to save me."
He made a noise like a discontented elephant. "It's fine."
"No, really. You've had a rough few days, too. I owe you."
"Nah. I'd be a skeleton with vines growing out of my eye sockets by now if it wasn't for you," he said, referring to the time I saved him from a witch that had tied him up in her front porch greenery. "We're not keeping score. This is just how it goes in our work."
This was about as warm and fuzzy as I'd ever heard Moose get, and it triggered my tears all over again.
"Napkins in the glove box," Moose said.
"Thanks." I used a scratchy paper napkin from a fast-food joint to wipe my eyes and blow my nose. It really sucked that there was nothing useful I could do. Maybe if I hadn't used all my wishes, I could wish for a strong drink.
I made a weird noise and Moose glanced over at me.
"I could really use a friend right now."
He looked like I'd just asked him to perform a gynecological exam.
"Relax, Moose. I mean, I was wondering if you could take me to a friend's place. It's not far from where I live."
"You going looking like that?"
I pulled the visor down and looked at my grisly reflection. My nose was the size and color of a plum. Dried blood covered everything that hadn't been washed clean by my tears. My mascara had run under my eyes, giving me racoon vibes. I snapped the visor shut. "It'll be fine. He doesn't shock easily."
Moose grunted.
I interpreted that to mean he was fine with dropping me off anywhere as long as he got to ditch me and go home to his husband. Five minutes later, he pulled to a stop at the curb in front of Earthform Coffee.
"Thank you."
"Told you. No thanks necessary."
I opened the door of the Rubicon and gingerly stepped down onto the sidewalk. Now that the adrenaline was gone, every inch of bruised flesh fought to make itself known.
"Nowicki?"
"Yeah?" I paused with one hand on the door and one on the frame of the car to look at him.
"I told you once, Nick's the best man I've ever known." He stared at his meaty hands, gripped round the steering wheel.
"I remember."
His gaze shifted to me. "That's still true."
My voice abandoned me.
"What he did tonight, that... He doesn't... He's still..." His voice abandoned him.
We stayed like that, breathing in the night air for a long moment. At last, he said, "He's still good. Love just fucks a person up, you know?"
Acid burned in my gut. "Yeah. I know." I closed the car door, and he drove away. When I turned around, Hawwa was standing behind me. The soft fabric of her long orange dress fluttered in the breeze. Her dark eyes were wide and sympathetic. "Is he safe?"
"Yeah. I think so."
"Your poor heart." She held her arms wide, and I fell against her and sobbed like a child.
At some point, I started babbling. "I started World War Three."
"No. Hush now."
"I'm so bad at my job. Why does he let me do this? I'm a menace to society. To myself. To Nick, and he's freaking immortal!" I sniffed and pressed my eyes against her shoulder. The pain in my wrecked nose felt like it was owed to me. "Nick's going to hate me for causing him to do this." Now in control, the self-flagellating part of my brain really went to town. "And what about my grandparents? I don't even know if Jaja's still alive. My phone is wrecked. If they tried to call, I wouldn't even know it and then there's Chantelle—"
"Livvie?" Drake's strong hand smoothed over my hair. "Take a breath. Come on, now."
I managed to look up at him.
His eyes widened as he took in my face, but he didn't say anything. He took my hand and led me up the stairs beside the coffee shop, into his apartment where the two of them wiped my face and hands clean, pressed ice to my nose, patted my back, and offered me an infinite repetition of, "There, there."
Eventually, I settled down. I must have drifted to sleep on his sofa because I opened my eyes to find the two of them huddled together at the dining room table, along with Chantelle, all of them clutching steaming cups of coffee between their hands.
Hawwa was instantly aware of my stirring. She turned her attention to me and the others followed her gaze.
Chantelle's eyes were wide and teary. "Geez."
Hawwa ignored her and cut straight to the chase. "We don't know the details. I'm assuming Nick engaged in a hunt."
"Engaged." I snorted. "Yeah."
Hawwa nodded, as if this had been inevitable all along. "And he's contained now?"
"I wished him into a locked, warded room."
This, too, she took in stride. "When I first met you, I suspected we would reach this point. The scent of Nicolai's essence was upon you."
Chantelle's eyes grew even wider.
Mandrake chortled.
Hawwa ignored them. "I never expected things would escalate so quickly, but it's clear now that you and Nicolai have moved far beyond the point of mere co-workers, pretending there's nothing more than admiration and respect."
"I broke him." Misery increases the pull of gravity. Every motion, every breath, every heartbeat required monumental effort.
The soft line of her mouth curled. "If that's true, it's not terrible news. Brokenness is quite a human thing to experience. It's good to learn that he still carries a seed of humanity."
"I don't know what to do now," I admitted.
"It is quite possible to meld your heart to that of another and still exist as your own person. Nicolai will eclipse you if you let him. He doesn't mean to. It's simply who he is. As a mother, I love that you want to be a support to him, but you cannot lose yourself. You mustn't. Nicolai carries the weight of the universe upon his shoulders. He chooses that, but it is not your burden to bear just because you're in love."
My cheeks warmed. I wasn't ready to talk about the quiet part out loud. What did a person do when they loved someone who was capable of... I mean... I'd always known on an intellectual level. Or, at least, I'd had the general idea. Then he told me. But...
The image of a dripping, still beating heart in Nick's outstretched hand flashed through my mind and steely bands constricted around my gut.
"What do you want, Olivia Nowicki?"
I wanted Nick to be okay. I wanted her to reassure me that we hadn't started the apocalypse. I wanted to see his eyebrow twitch upward in a way that could indicate anything from amusement to murderous rage.
Well, no, not murderous rage. There'd been quite enough of that.
"Olivia?" Hawwa spoke my name in the soft but unyielding tone of a mother demanding answers from her child. "Nicolai is safe in his apartment, and you can't be with him right now. I'm asking what you want."
"I want to make sure my grandparents are okay, and I want to work."
Chantelle folded her arms over her ample bosom. "You want to do Nick's work?"
I stood up and straightened my disgusting clothes. "No. I want to do my work. I'm good at it, and I'm making a difference. I've got the file on a dangerous skip and I need to catch him." My gut told me the fairy wasn't a danger to anyone who wasn't a danger to her or her child, but the crocotta was a different story.
"He's a killer?" Chantelle asked.
"A soul eater."
She blanched. The world I now lived in was still new to her. It was a lot to process. But what made her amazing was that she shook off her shock and squared her shoulders. "I'll go with you."
"You don't—"
"Hush your mouth. You're not the only one here who has a day job putting dangerous criminals behind bars."
"Sometimes I kill them," I admitted.
"Me too," she said. "But I try very hard not to."
I shrugged. "I give it an honest effort."
"You can't go to the hospital like that," Mandrake said. "Jaja might be getting better, but you'll give Busia a heart attack."
"I'll take you home," Chantelle said. "We'll get you cleaned up and changed and then head to the hospital."
"What about Frank and the baby?"
"Frank married a cop. He knew what he was getting. He'll be fine."
Hopefully, she wasn't using me as an excuse to not go home to Frank. With all my heart, I wanted to believe they'd make it work. The possibility that she was offering to stay with me just to make sure I didn't go racing into Nick's arms was real. I latched onto that. It didn't bother me. I didn't trust me, either. And yet part of me was terrified of that future moment when I'd have to face him again.
Always the mind reader—Could she actually read minds? What was she anyway?—Hawwa addressed my thoughts. "You already have what you need to see clearly, Olivia. You just need to make that choice. Don't make it lightly. It will change everything."
I had no idea what she meant by that, and I was too weary to give it any effort, so I thanked both of them and followed Chantelle out the door and downstairs to her waiting police cruiser. She drove me home with lights and sirens on, just because she could, and once I was dressed and had my laptop and files packed in a bag, we headed to the hospital.
Jaja snored softly. His chest rose and fell in a steady, reassuring rhythm. Just seeing it brought tears to my eyes again.
"Don't start blubbering," Chantelle whispered.
I stuck my tongue out at her.
She grinned.
We made ourselves as comfortable as possible in two ugly green chairs in the corner of Jaja's room and opened our electronics.
"What are we looking for?" she asked.
"The easiest thing would be any sign of a person who's been heavily involved in politics in some way until recently, when they completely lost interest in pretty much anything."
"So we're looking for a unicorn in the Black Forest of the internet?"
"Yup."
"Got it." She tugged her phone from her pocket and switched it on. The soft blue glow lit her face in a ghostly way I didn't like at all. Maybe I'd been wrong to tell her to go to Drake. Maybe I should have trusted Nick's rules.
If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we'd all have a merry Christmas.
Chantelle peeked up at me. "You going to do something or just sit there and watch me work?"
"Thank you," I said.
Her expression softened. She didn't need to me explain what I was thanking her for. There was too much, and half of it was beyond words. "Me and you, sis. Always and forever."
I imagine consuming your death again and again, my favorite dish, on and on for millennia until we watch the sun grow cold together.
It had sounded so romantic when Nick said it. Then, I hadn't thought about what it would be like to watch every person I'd ever known, every person who had ever lived in my lifetime, wither and die. All of a sudden, I couldn't seem to think of anything else.