Island of Glass (The Guardians Trilogy #3)(74)

She planted her feet, lifted her chin. “Try it and you’ll bleed. She exploited your grief, she pulled you back to the moment when that grief was the sharpest, and she offered you a lie. The lie was changing what was, and it came from the image of someone you loved, you lost. She hooked you, Doyle, the way she did me in the woods, the way she went at Sasha in that first cave on Corfu, but not with violence, not for you. With cruelty.”

“I know what she did. I was there.”

“Don’t be a dick. Especially when I’m going to point out something essential you seem to be too pissed off to latch on to. You were stronger than she was. You did what you had to do, yeah, but you did it because you were stronger.”

“It wasn’t my brother,” he began, and she moved in, short-jabbed a fist to his chest.

“Bullshit. It looked like him, sounded like him, bleeding and dying in the same cave where you lost him. You had a choice, and don’t tell me, don’t fucking tell me, that for one fraction of an instant you didn’t wonder if you’d done what she wanted, you’d have had him back. You’d have broken the curse. Don’t tell me that in all the years you’ve lived the choice you made today wasn’t the hardest.”

“To save him, I’d have cut my own throat when cutting it would’ve mattered. Today? Even if it had been a real choice, even if it had been my brother, I wouldn’t have sacrificed you, or anyone in that house.”

“I know it.”

It mattered that she did, more than he could say.

“She separated me, and made me feel that distance so I could stand back, watch you fight, and think, what’s the point of it all? They’ll live, they’ll die, and I’ll just go on. That’s the difference.”

“Three nights a month I’m pretty different myself.”

“Not the same.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. I’ve got to live forever, feel my pain.” Deliberately dramatic, Riley clutched at her heart. “I’ve got to live forever, young and hot and strong, feel my torment. Get over yourself, old man.”

“You have no idea what—”

“Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah. Why don’t you take a rest from the I’m cursed for a century or so. You’ve got the time.”

“Christ, you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Want some there-theres, some cheek pats? Let me go get Sasha or Annika.”

She started to turn, smiled to herself when he grabbed her arm, swung her around. She met his furious look with a sneer, and enjoyed—very much—how he wiped the sneer off her face.

The way his mouth crushed down on hers, hard and hot. The way his hands pressed, molded, possessed.

Just as it shook something inside her when that mouth, those hands gentled. When for one trembling moment there was real tenderness.

She squeezed her eyes tight when he held her, when his hands glided light and easy over her back.

“I loved him more than I can tell you.”

“I know that. Anyone could see that.”

“When he’d barely learned to walk, he’d follow me around like a puppy. So full of light, and . . . delight. If I shook him off, I’d feel like a bully. He was like Annika. It occurs to me that’s why she struck a chord with me right off.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with being blow-your-pants-off gorgeous?”

“Bonus. I couldn’t hear you, and in that fog, through that wall, you seemed very far away. But I knew you.” He eased back, studied her face. “She couldn’t reach that.”

“She doesn’t get that. That’s how we’ll win. Plus, we’re just smarter. Or I am anyway. A lot smarter.”

“Now who’s being a dick?”

“Truth’s truth. Had enough air?”

“I could use another beer.”

“I could use food. It’s my round for lunch, so it’s sandwiches. You can help me with that.”

“I’m on dinner tonight.”

“So I’ll help you get the pizza.”

He looked back at the house, down at her, and felt something just let go. “Deal.”

? ? ?

In her chamber beneath the earth, Nerezza raged. The creatures she’d created skittered and scattered. Only Malmon stood, prepared—even happy—to take her abuse.

“He should have slayed them like pigs. He should have done as I bid! Where is this human love? Where is this human grief? It’s weak, weak and false.”

She tore the head off a bat, hurled its still fluttering body against the wall.

“You’ll tire yourself, my queen.”

She flew at him, fingers curled into claws to gouge. An inch before his sickly yellow eyes, she stopped. Her hand gentled, stroked the cold, rough cheek.

“I’m strong again. You tended me well.”

“You are my queen. You are my love.”

“Yes, yes.” She flicked that aside, paced the chamber. In the faceted mirrors of the walls she could see herself reflected, again and again.

Her hair was more black than white now, and nearly as silky as before. Yes, Malmon had tended her well. She’d skimmed the glass so the lines in her face softened, even vanished to her eye.

She’d have her full youth and beauty back, and more. She would have all.