MY BEDROOM DOOR shut with a loud click. I stood, my hand on the knob, not turning around, not moving, just standing there facing the white painted wood.
The Man in Black had left us downstairs in a swirl of coat, saying he had to prepare for our next encounter. The pale light of a coming dawn pressed against the window. The Man in Black said his spell would end then, meaning my roommates would wake up, so we were waiting in my room, out of sight and away from any questions they might have. It’d been a silent walk up the stairs. We hadn’t said a word to each other since Daniel’s declaration in the kitchen. I could feel he wanted to speak, but I didn’t know what to say. My thoughts and feelings swirled in a maelstrom of confusion.
“Charlie.” Daniel’s voice came from behind me. “Talk to me. Please.”
I didn’t turn around. “I just need a second, Daniel. Give it to me.”
He didn’t say anything else. I felt him step close to me, stop, and then step back.
He doesn’t know. He can’t.
I took a deep breath and held it, letting it sit in my lungs. The pressure built and I still held it, kept it until it began to burn, held it hostage until my heart began to beat harder, until my pulse pounded in my chest and temples.
Black spots speckled the edge of my vision.
I let the breath out slowly, allowing it to carry away my anger and leave behind a hard shell of calm.
I turned around.
Daniel stood looking at my bookcase, leaning in and reading titles off the spines. It was a cheap thing made of particleboard and laminate. I’d bought it at a box store and kept it for years. It had made two moves it wasn’t designed to endure, once to college and once here. Because of this, and the amount of books I’d shoved on it, it leaned to the left and had to be propped up with folded cardboard to retain its upright position. Books of all kinds hung off the edges of the shelves. They jutted and jumbled, haphazard and threatening to fall for lack of space. Hardbacks, paperbacks, graphic novels; some new, most old and used; in double-stacked rows organized only by size and how they would fit on the shelf. I read everything and anything, judging each book and each writer on their own merits but keeping almost everything I consumed. In each book I found something—its language, its imagery, a character, the plot—to be worth retaining.
I don’t loan my books. Don’t even ask. I’d loan you my kidneys first.
Daniel realized I was watching him. He half turned. “You said you were a reader. I had no idea it was…”
“How much did you hear?”
The question stopped him short. For a long moment he didn’t say anything.
“You heard why he won’t let you go.” I didn’t make it a question. “You understood the part where every time I use magick it kills you a little bit.”
He nodded.
“Then why in the world would you agree to keep helping him?”
He stepped forward. “Because I was in the room tonight with those sons of bitches who hurt you. I saw your pain because of what they did, and if the fucking God of Nightmares can take that away then I’ll pay the price. Gladly.” His brows pulled together, mouth set in a straight line of determination, but he was still so very pale, eyes still buried in dark hollows.
“I’m touched.” I put my hand on his arm so he would know I wasn’t just saying it. “I really am. But you can’t.”
“I’m the only one who can.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Why not?”
I looked away, pulling my hand back.
He grabbed it, holding it fiercely. “Why not, Charlie?”
“Because I love you, dammit.”
There. I said it.
We both froze. The words hung between us, locking us in that moment. A small part of me was more afraid right then than I’d been all night, with all the terrors I’d been through. Afraid he would push me away. Afraid he would laugh at my love.
Afraid he would use it to hurt me.
His hand slipped from my fingers, moving up my arm, then warm against my neck. He cupped my face and gently turned it toward his. His eyes were bright, intense. The look in them burned into my soul, lighting me from the inside.
“I love you too, Charlotte Tristan Moore.”
He kissed me, and the world went away.