Shadowfever - Moning Karen Marie (читать бесплатно книги без сокращений TXT) 📗

Not nearly as messy as I’d’ve liked. I wished I had those Unseelie bastards alive right now to kill all over again. How was I going to do what I was supposed to do?

Maybe I could just take her to an alley and give her to some monsters to die. She would be hard to catch, but my dark, glassy lake was stirring, whispering, offering all kinds of assistance, and I knew that I had more than enough juice to catch the kid. To do anything I wanted. There was something very cold inside me. Always had been. I wanted to welcome it now. Let it chill my blood and frost all my emotions until there was nothing left in me that was haunted because there was nothing left in me.

“The rain’ll clean it up.”

“I don’t like messes on my—”

“Jericho.” It was plea, lament, and benediction.

He stopped speaking instantly. He appeared around the last bookcase and stared at me. “You can say it that way anytime, Mac. Especially if you’re naked and I’m on top of you.” I could feel his gaze on me, searching, trying to understand.

I didn’t understand myself. The plea had been to not pick on me right now. Sarcasm would undo me. The lament had been a sharing of my pain, because I knew he understood pain himself. The benediction was the part I couldn’t explain. As if he was sacred to me. I looked up at him. He’d been with my alleged mother the night she’d left the abbey, the night the Book had escaped, and never told me. How could I revere him? I didn’t have the energy to confront him. Learning that Dani had killed Alina had left me feeling like a popped balloon.

“Why are you sitting in the dark?” he said finally.

“I know who killed Alina.”

“Ah.” The single word said more than most people can say in entire paragraphs. “Beyond a shadow?”

“Black and white.”

He waited. He didn’t ask. And I suddenly understood that he wouldn’t. This was part of who he was. Barrons did feel, and when he felt most strongly, he spoke the least, asked the fewest questions. Even from here I could feel the tension in his body as he waited to see if I would tell him more. If I didn’t, he would continue walking through the store and vanish as silently as he’d glided into view.

But if I spoke? What if I asked him to make love to me? Not fuck me hard, but make love.

“It was Dani.”

He said nothing for so long that I began to think he hadn’t heard me. Then he released a long, weary-sounding breath. “Mac, I’m sorry.”

I looked up at him. “What do I do?” I was appalled to hear my voice crack.

“You’ve done nothing yet?”

I shook my head.

“What do you want to do?”

I laughed bitterly and nearly began sobbing. “Pretend I never found out and go on like it never happened.”

“Then that’s what you do.”

I tipped my head back and looked up at him in disbelief. “What? Barrons, the great hand of vengeance, is telling me to forgive and forget? You never forgive. You never walk away from a fight.”

“I like to fight. You do, too, sometimes. But in this case, it doesn’t sound like it.”

“It’s not that I—I mean … it’s … God, it’s so complicated!”

“Life is. Imperfect. Royally fucked up. How do you feel about her?”

“I—” felt like a traitor answering him.

“Let me rephrase that: How did you feel about her before you found out she’d killed Alina?”

“—loved her,” I whispered.

“Do you think love just goes away? Pops out of existence when it becomes too painful or inconvenient, as if you never felt it?”

I looked at him. What did Jericho Barrons know of love?

“If only it did. If only it could be turned off. It’s not a faucet. Love’s a bloody river with level-five rapids. Only a catastrophic act of nature or a dam has any chance of stopping it—and then usually only succeeds in diverting it. Both measures are extreme and change the terrain so much you end up wondering why you bothered. No landmarks to gauge your position when it’s done. Only way to survive is to devise new ways to map out life. You loved her yesterday, you love her today. And she did something that devastates you. You’ll love her tomorrow.”

“She killed my sister!”

“With malice? Spite? Out of cruelty? Hunger for power?”

“How would I know?”

“You love her,” he said roughly. “That means you know her. When you love somebody you see inside them. Use your heart. Is Dani that kind of person?”

Jericho Barrons was telling me to use my heart. Could life get any stranger?

“Think maybe somebody told her to do it?”

“She should have known better!”

“Humans, in their infancy, tend to be infants.”

“Are you making excuses for her?” I snarled.

“There is no excuse. I’m merely pointing out what you want me to point out. How has Dani treated you since the day you met?”

It hurt to even say the words. “Like a big sister she looked up to.”

“Has she been loyal to you? Taken your side against others?”

I nodded. Even when she’d thought I’d hooked up with Darroc, she’d have remained at my side. Followed me into hell.

“She must have known you were Alina’s sister.”

“Yes.”

“Coming to see you would have felt like facing the firing squad, every time.”

I’d told her we were like sisters. And sisters, I’d told her, forgive each other everything. I’d caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror after I’d said it, when she hadn’t known I was looking. Her expression had been bleak, and now I understood why. Because she’d been thinking, Yeah, right. Mac’s gonna kill me if she ever finds out. Yet she’d still kept coming. When I thought about it, I was astonished she hadn’t hunted down and killed those Unseelie, removing the damning evidence from the face of the earth.

He was silent a long moment, then, “Did she actually kill Alina? With her hands? A weapon?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Everything has degrees.”

“You think some ways of killing are better?”

“I know they are.”

“Death is death!”

“Agreed. But killing is not always murder.”

“I think she took her somewhere she knew she’d be killed.”

“Now you don’t sound certain she killed her.”

I told him what had happened last night, what the Unseelie had said, how Alina’s body had looked, how Dani had vanished.

He nodded in silent agreement when I was finished.

“So, what do I do?”

“Are you asking me for advice?”

I braced myself for a sarcastic comment. “Don’t snap my head off, okay? I had a bad night.”

“Wasn’t going to.” He sat down on his heels in front of me and looked into my eyes. “This one got you. Worse than all the other things that happened to you. Worse than being turned Pri-ya.”

I shrugged. “I got to have sex nonstop, no blame, no shame. You kidding me? Compared to the rest of my life, that was a joy.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. Then, “But not something you’d care to repeat in full possession of your senses.”

“It was …” I searched for words to explain.

He was motionless, waiting.

“Like Halloween. When people rioted. They loot. Do crazy things.”

“You’re saying Pri-ya was a blackout.”

I nodded. “So what do I do?”

“You pull your fucking—” He bared his teeth on a silent snarl and looked away. When he looked back again, his face was a cool mask of urbanity. “You choose what you can live with. And what you can’t live without. That’s what.”

“You mean can I live with killing her? Can I stand myself if I don’t kill her?”

“I mean can you live without her. You kill her, you snuff her life forever. Dani will never be again. At fourteen, she’ll be done. She had her chances, she fucked up, she lost. Are you ready to be her judge, jury, and executioner?”

I swallowed and dropped my head, shielding myself with hair as if I could hide behind it and not have to come out. “You’re saying I won’t like myself.”