Give Me (Wyrd and Fae #1)(7)

“I wonder if we spoke on the phone. Is it the Tragic Fall Inn?” Lilith said.

“You’re Lilith Evergreen, then. I’m Marion. I thought I might see you on the train.”

As Lilith shifted the weight of her handbag, Marion grabbed her right hand. She turned it to get a good look at her ring. “Now that’s quite nice. Family heirloom?”

“I’ve only had it a month.” Lilith eased her hand away from Marion’s grip and twisted the gold band. “It was a present—from someone I don’t like much, as it happens. I should probably take it off.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, dear. I…I mean it looks lovely on you.”

“That’s what I thought.” Lilith smiled. She loved the ring. It didn’t matter where it came from.

“Here we are.” Marion walked along an old-fashioned steam engine. “There should be two more ladies on their way to the Tragic Fall. Let’s hope they’re on the train.” At the last car she climbed the steps and said, “On to Tintagos. Perhaps your destiny awaits you there!”

“But I only want a vacation.”

Marion laughed as if that was the funniest joke ever told. Lilith would never get British humor.

The westbound train was like something out of Murder on the Orient Express. Lilith sat diagonally across from Marion. Over an hour passed and neither spoke. Occasionally Marion glanced at Lilith with a friendly smile, but she spent most of the time knitting, adding to the considerable length of a moss-green scarf.

Across the aisle a girl chatted on her cell phone, unmindful or uncaring who heard. “Ah, Jimmy, don’t be a git.” Her expression and her voice softened. “You’re more than good enough for me. I love you.”

A fresh pang of hurt feelings washed over Lilith. Despite her present opinion of Greg, his reason for dumping her still chafed. He would have been degraded by her lack of pedigree. She’d never again fall for someone who was her social superior.

The cell phone girl noticed Lilith watching and listening. With a defiant stare she said into her phone, “Give me a kiss, love.”

Lilith rolled her eyes, but Marion’s sympathetic smile stopped her cold. Great gods, Lilith thought. I’m cynical! I’m jaded and broken, and I will never love anyone.

They rumbled along through hills, past lakes and meadows all caressed by gray mist, a welcome promise of cool weather. Farmhouses and fields of sheep alternated with the occasional village. One hillside had a huge chalky white horse painted or carved into it. It was all so green and magical.

You’re not in Indio anymore.

“Bollocks.” The girl flipped her phone shut and tossed it into her backpack.

The other two passengers remaining in the car looked up in one movement, like synchronized swimmers, and put away their laptops.

“Those must be the other two for the Inn,” Marion nodded at the laptop ladies. “We’ve crossed into County Dumnos. No mobile. No wi-fi—oh, goody!” A waiter rolled a cart of drinks by, and Marion stuffed her knitting into the bag at her feet. “You’re old enough for champagne, aren’t you dear?”

Lilith snorted. “I think so.”

Marion shifted to the window seat directly across from her. “Sharon,” Marion said to the girl with the cell phone, “would you like to join us?”

“All right.” Sharon left her backpack behind and moved to the seat Marion had vacated. “How’s Dad?”

“Misses you,” Marion said, “as ever. Keen to see you next Saturday.”

When Marion introduced Lilith Sharon’s face lit up. “American then? Jimmy and I long to see the Painted Desert.”

“There’s irony for you,” Lilith said. “I long to never see it again.”

“It’s a curse to live in the wrong place,” Marion said. “A cactus in the rain, or a lilac in the desert.”

“Or myself in the land of no mobile phones,” Sharon said.

“It’s true,” Lilith said. “I feel more at home here on the other side of the world than I did my whole life in the desert.” Green countryside was her proper place. When she returned to the States she was going to leave Indio and move far, far away from where the word forest conjured the image of Joshua trees.

Sharon took out her identification as the waiter poured three glasses of champagne. I’m getting old, Lilith thought. She seems so young to me.

“Pardon me, miss.” The waiter said to Lilith. “I’ll need to see some proof of age.”

“What, me?” Lilith stared up at him to see if he was joking. He wasn’t. “I’m twenty-nine,” she said.

“You’re rather well-preserved, dear,” Marion said.

Lilith showed the waiter her California driver’s license. He stared at it and looked doubtfully at her hair, then nodded his head.

“I thought you were younger than me,” Sharon said. She raised her glass. “To California. How do you know Moo?”

“Lilith is stopping at the Tragic Fall,” Marion explained.

“You seem too sensible for that circus,” Sharon said. “No offense.”

“What do you mean?” Lilith said. “I’m sure the inn is fine.”

“The Tragic Fall is lovely. But I assume you’re coming for the Handover.”