know everything.
Nona waved a hand gracefully through the air. “There is no danger. Would you mind helping Grnlllll in the kitchen? She cannot get the trash out on her own.”
My stomach sank. Trash duty. Great. The gnome was shorter than the trash bags, but of course we couldn’t get smaller bags, oh no, so I got to be on call any time the filth was full. And taking out the trash meant the Dumpster, and I had to actually touch it to get it open, and it was sticky.
STICKY.
I’m really not a lazy person, but for the last eight years of my life all I had to do was pick up my things. I couldn’t exactly take the Center’s trash out to the curb, considering it was a sealed underground complex. Diner trash was enough to make me nostalgic for those sterile white halls. Better sterile than sticky and smelly.
Back in the kitchen Grnlllll pointed in the direction of the trash—which she had let overflow and spill onto the floor. Trying to ignore the gag building at the back of my throat, I heaved the bag out of the can. It flopped into my leg, leaving a vile, dark smear of disgusting on my jeans. Brilliant.
Grnlllll’s voice graveled something at me as she pointed angrily to the streak I was creating as I dragged the bag along the floor, but at this point I didn’t care. I should have had this whole weekend off. I should have been snuggled up next to Lend right now, making fun of a bad movie with him and Arianna. I didn’t ask for this.
Besides, she may have been too short for the Dumpster, but she wasn’t too short to mop.
I kicked open the metal door leading to the dark back alley, gulping at the night air as the stench of rotten food assailed my nostrils. I could feel it lodging in my sinuses, and I wondered if I would ever be able to smell anything else.
The single light above the door flickered. I’d probably have to replace the bulb, too. Stupid gnome. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the Dumpster between our brick wall and the next building, flipped open the lid, and threw in the bag—and a big glop of something fell straight out onto my shoe.
“Bleep!” I screamed to the wall in front of me. “Bleep, bleep, bleep!” I kicked the Dumpster, then grabbed at my foot. Now I was dirty, my toes hurt, and I felt like an idiot. I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. It was okay. This was okay. I would go upstairs, take a shower, and go to bed. For the rest of the weekend.
The light flickered off, then came back on. Too bright. Way too bright. I opened my eyes to see the lines of another faerie door forming on the wall next to the Dumpster.
“Go away,” I snapped. “I’m not in the mood.” If Raquel thought sending idiot Jack repeatedly would help her cause, she was wrong.
A figure, taller than Jack and more beautiful by far than anyone else I knew, stepped out of the door.
“Now really,” he said, his voice liquid gold, “that’s hardly the welcome I expected, my love.”
Including all the terror and pain he’d caused, so yeah, I wasn’t going to jump him or anything. But still, he was pretty to look at. And the last thing I wanted to see right now. Or ever, really. I held up a hand, palm out. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”
Reth raised one eyebrow. “There’s no need for crass threats. I don’t wish to take you anywhere. Except perhaps out of this alley, in an effort to escape some of the stench.” He looked pointedly at my stained apron.
“Oh.” I lowered my hand, deflated and confused, and put my nose surreptitiously to my shoulder. Did I really smell? And since when did Reth not want me? He always wanted me. But I didn’t want him to want me—so why was I disappointed? Leave it to him to take me from angry to confused in five seconds flat.
“Walk with me? I would offer my elbow like a gentleman, but your hand looks rather sticky.”
I scowled. “Why on earth would I walk anywhere with you?”
He held out one perfect, slender hand toward the kitchen door of the diner. “My apologies; by all means, go back in. No doubt more filth awaits.”
I looked at the door, at war with myself. On the one hand, I hated doing anything Reth wanted me to. On the other hand, there was a mop with my name on it inside….
“Fine, but if you try anything—”
“Really, Evelyn, how I’ve missed your charming company.”
Keeping a wary eye on the faerie, I followed him through the alley. We made our way down the lamp-lined street, his step so light it bordered on dancing. I felt like a graceless clod next to him. Then there was the aspect of his ethereal, near-angelic beauty compared to my … well, for the sake of my self-esteem, it was probably best not to compare.
I hugged myself, shrugging inward against the cold, tickling breeze as my breath fanned out in front of me. I had no doubt I’d regret going with him, but part of me was glad for these strange new happenings. They reminded me I wasn’t just a girl who was bad at soccer. Even though I no longer knew his true name and thus couldn’t control him, for once I felt almost equal to Reth. The knowledge that I could hurt him if I needed to—if I wanted to—gave me a heady feeling of power.
It probably wasn’t healthy.
Still, if he did something stupid and forced me to drain him, well, I wouldn’t cry about it. “So, is there any point to this walk? Because I’m kind of cold.”
Reth laughed, that silver, ringing laugh, and unconsciously I leaned in closer to him. Shaking my head, I took a firm step toward the street. We were nearing the border of thick trees that pushed in along the small town’s edges. I looked over at him, noticing for the first time that he had his glamour on. Not that it was much less gorgeous than his real face, but it surprised me. When he was IPCA and required to wear a glamour he almost never did; I couldn’t figure out why he would care now that he was free. (Which was mostly my fault, but, really, a girl can’t be expected to outsmart a faerie when running from her own death, now, can she?)
“Still cold, my love? I can take care of that.”
“Yeah, I remember. I think I’ll pass.” I rubbed my wrist, where I could see the faint pink print of his hand, forever burned there. I’d had enough of his warmth to last a lifetime.
Reth stopped and I did, too, reluctantly facing him. Latent rage welled up. I wanted to scream at him, attack him. It was his fault that Lish was dead—he was the one who let Viv into the Center. But if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t ever have gotten out of IPCA. And I definitely wouldn’t have been able to rescue Lend. For all I knew, he would still be in a cell in the Center and Vivian would still be slowly but surely killing every paranormal around. It made me sick to think about.
Nothing was ever, ever simple with Reth.
“Why
