Iron Night (38 page)

And that was the problem. When I lifted my mouth from hers and leaned back, she looked up at me with those huge golden-brown eyes and I realized even as I brushed one thumb against the freckles that painted her cheek that those weren't the eyes I wanted to be looking into.

She read the truth on my face and scooted backward slightly. “Is it Suzume?” she asked. “I'm sorry. I thought the two of you weren't together.”

I dropped my hands, pulling them back into my own lap. “We're not dating,” I explained. “And I don't know if she even likes me like that, but, yeah, it's Suzume.”

I'd been on the other end of this kind of conversation many times, so I was able to admire how gracefully Lilah nodded her understanding and carefully gathered up her purse and coat, as if she'd been ready to leave anyway.

We walked to the door together, and as I opened it for her, I reached out and caught her wrist. “Lilah,” I said, “I know it's not . . . you know . . . but I really would like it if we could be friends.”

She didn't quite smile at me, but the gold in her eyes brightened, and she nodded. “I'd like that too.”

“And I meant what I said earlier,” I added. “I think you'd make a great Napoleon.”

Lilah laughed, half in disbelief, but also half in real amusement, and we said good-bye.

I left three messages on Suzume's phone that evening, but she didn't call me back.

•   •   •

Sunday was cool but sunny, a perfect day for the last sail of the season. Bhumika was ensconced in the most sheltered area of the deck that Chivalry could find, wrapped in several fleece blankets and tucked onto a mound of cushions that my brother had obtained for the occasion. Meanwhile Chivalry and I, dressed according to my brother's strict dress code of correct yachting apparel, which consisted of white slacks, polo shirts, and jaunty nautical sweaters and caps, worked with the sails as the
Gay Belle
darted merrily across the waves of Narragansett Bay.

We didn't talk much. Most of Chivalry's attention was focused on Bhumika, whose pleasant smile couldn't offset the tight, painful lines that were etched into her face, or the fact that a full oxygen mask was affixed across her face for the entire trip. But we all smiled and did our best to pretend that this was just another lovely afternoon, and not so clearly the last time that she would ever set foot on the deck of this boat until the day her husband would board with a box of her ashes to scatter.

Chivalry and I talked only once about the recent events. Bhumika had dropped off to sleep, and my brother and I had weighed anchor in a small sheltered spot of the bay to break open the picnic basket that Madeline's cook had prepared for us.

“You did well, little brother,” Chivalry said, handing me a sandwich. I looked at it and sighed—typical as always, it was roast beef. I tucked it back into the basket and removed a small container of fresh deviled eggs.

“How do you figure that?” I asked. “Prudence hates me more than ever, and because of what I did she actually ended up challenging Mother directly. Matt learned everything that I've been trying to hide from him. And a lot of people were killed.” People who should never have been in danger, and whose names felt branded across my soul—Gage, Beth, and poor Mr. Albert.

“All of those things are true,” my brother acknowledged. “Though Prudence's feelings for you, as I've always said, are much more complicated than you're willing to admit. But do you know what I see? That you negotiated when you could, you were willing to fight when negotiation failed, you made allies who showed loyalty to you, and you were also willing to make hard decisions when you needed to.” Chivalry patted my shoulder roughly.

“And Matt?” I pressed.

Chivalry looked away, across the waves of the bay and toward the graceful lines of the bridges in the distance. Above us seagulls massed and made their long, lonely caws, eyeing our sandwiches greedily and hoping for some handouts. “I would have killed him, Fortitude,” he admitted finally. “It would've been as quick and painless as I could make it, but I would not have chosen to leave Mr. McMahon alive.” He turned back to me. “But you made the decision that you did. Let us simply hope that it turns out well.”

“Do you think it will?”

He paused. “I hope it does, brother. For your sake, I truly do.” Chivalry glanced over to where Bhumika was sleeping, and a deep, old sadness filled his face. “I'll need some . . . time over the next few months.”

“To be with Bhumika,” I said softly, and he nodded.

“Yes. But after seeing what you were able to accomplish on your own with the very difficult elf situation, I have no doubts that you'll be able to police the territory in my absence.”

“Police the territory?” I asked, my jaw dropping. “On my own?”

“You can do it,” he said encouragingly. “I even have your first assignment. We received a tip that a group of selkies in Maine are sinking local fishing boats that haven't paid protection.”

“And you want me to—what?”

“Look into it. Locate the ringleaders and put a stop to it.”

I stared at him, in his wide-brimmed Panama hat, looking so confidently at me in the early-afternoon sunshine. “You think I can do this?” I asked.

He rested a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, smiling. “I know you can.”

“But . . .” I floundered for a moment. “My car isn't even running. I can't get to Maine.”

“Is that all you're worried about?” He smiled. “Your car was towed to our mechanic this morning, after I picked you up. He'll have it up and running again in no time.”

“You towed . . .” I stopped and looked hard at my brother, then asked suspiciously, “What else did you do?”

“Nothing!” he defended. Then, “I might have dropped a few months of rent off with your landlord.”

“Chivalry!”

“It's nothing,” he protested. “Just to help you find your feet with your new responsibilities.” At my dirty look, he relented and said, “If it makes you feel better, look at it as payment for covering my responsibilities.”

He had me there, and there was clearly no stopping what he'd already done, so I finally muttered, as gracelessly as possible, “Fine. But that's the end of it.”

“Of course,” he said. “Other than your salary.”

“Chivalry!”

It was a long argument. Chivalry, of course, had wanted me on an exorbitant salary that would've left me feeling tied by the neck to my family. I argued him down to an hourly wage that was similar to what I'd been earning bussing tables—but still higher, since Chivalry pointed out that I would no longer be earning tips, and the work would probably amount in some weeks to barely part-time. And with that we were both left moderately satisfied, and mostly unhappy, just like any good compromise.

We hauled in the anchor and set the sails, turning the boat back toward the dock. The breeze filled the sails, and the seagulls soared above us.

“If you wanted to get some new clothes, I could always—” Chivalry began, and I threw a sandwich at his head.

When I got home that evening, I left another two messages on Suze's phone.

•   •   •

The next three days passed slowly. I'd started making calls to look into the selkie business, but I knew that I was making as many excuses as possible to hang around my apartment and wait for Suzume to show up. But no matter how long I waited or how many messages I left on her phone, there was no knock on my door, and no pitter-patter of fox paws on the tree outside my window.

The Fiesta arrived back from the mechanic on Thursday, its engine once again patched and coaxed into working order. It still couldn't start on the first try, and the mechanic muttered about how it would've made more sense to just buy a new car entirely given the level of rust eating away at the underbody, but I was glad to have the Fiesta back in its old spot, even if it had taken my brother's money to make it happen.

I left one last message on Suze's phone. Then I got into the Fiesta and drove over to her house.

Surprise filled her face when she opened her door and saw me standing on her stoop. We stood for a long minute just looking at each other.

“I want you to be my partner,” I blurted out, completely ruining the script in my head that I'd been composing for the last few days and practicing periodically in the mirror.

She tilted her head in that familiar foxy way. “I'm going to need context for that one,” Suze said.

I took a deep breath. “I want you to work with me, like when we were looking for who killed Gage. But this would be official. When I go out to do stuff or investigate things for my family, I want you to be with me on them. I'm heading up to Maine tomorrow to look into some selkies, and I'd like you to go with me.”

She looked at me for a long moment, those dark eyes as deep and fathomless as the ocean at night.

“It'll probably only be part-time work, but you'd get to beat people up,” I added to sweeten the deal, and a wide smile broke out across her face.

“Does this job offer come with a salary?” she asked.

“Send the bills to my mother,” I said. “But if you're going to do it, do it because you want to, not for the money.”

“I do want to. Screening clients for my grandmother is boring as crap, and I already got Midori to agree to take over,” she said, and I grinned. But she looked serious again, and asked, “Did Lilah ever come talk with you?”

“She did.” I paused. “But I'm not dating her.”

Suze lifted one eyebrow in a very good Spock impression. “Why not?”

I took the plunge. “Because I want to date you.”

Surprise covered Suze's face, but I could see the brief, intense flicker of emotion in her dark eyes before she hid it. Then she frowned and both caution and a warning were evident in her voice when she said, “Lilah is better for you. She's sweet and nice. I'll never be those things. The two of you could play human together but still understand each other—everything you want. I've never wanted to be anything except what I am.”

I nodded. “I know all those things, but I want you.”

Frustration covered her face at my refusal to get with the program. “I can't, and I wouldn't, change who I am.”

“I know. And I like you just the way you are.”

“You haven't really thought through it,” she insisted. “When you do, you'll know that Lilah is better for you.”

If this had been over the phone, I would've been slowly crumpling inside at her words, but this was why I had had to come over, because I could see the truth on her face. “You aren't saying that you don't like me,” I said, and I could feel my pulse racing with excitement. “You aren't saying no.”

The rare flummoxed look she gave me was enough to make me finally give in and smile so hard that my face ached. She stayed silent.

My grin widened even farther. “That's what I thought, Suze. I'll wait until you tell me what you
really
think.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do you really think you can outwait a fox?”

“I'm a vampire,” I said. “I've got time.”

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the surprise that I'd brought her and pressed it into her hands.

She stared at the blank CD in her hands, “What's this?” she asked.

“It's a mix CD. But I'll have to borrow your old boom box if you want me to play it outside your window.”

She laughed then, the sound clearly surprised out of her. She stared at me for a long moment, then stepped aside to let me in. After all, we were partners now, and we had a trip to Maine to plan.

Suze played the CD I'd made her later. It was one long loop of “The Imperial March.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

M. L. Brennan
lives in Connecticut with her husband and three cats. Holding a master's degree in fiction, she teaches basic composition to college students. Her house is more than a hundred years old, and is insulated mainly by overstuffed bookshelves. She is currently working on the third Fortitude Scott book.