“I can’t believe you still have that disgusting habit.”
“What’s the harm in it? Won’t kill me, right?”
“It smells like a week old trash pit.”
I rested on the raised ledge of the roof to my apartment, the Marlboro squeezed within my closed fingers. Loren stood a few feet away, making sure not to get too close, perhaps trying to distance herself before she truly distanced herself.
“That’s why I smoke up here. The whole city smells like a trash pit anyway, so—” I shrugged. The roofs of the nearby buildings were starting to drape in shadow, the sunset drawing a darkened curtain across the horizon. I pressed the cigarette to my lips and took a drag, closed my eyes, then released a fog of smoke. “So you’re staying local then?”
“I am.”
I turned and rested my elbows back on the ledge. “So we could— see more of each other?”
“That’s certainly a possibility. Though, I’ll be running the coven now. That doesn’t allow much opportunity for— extracurricular activity.”
“That’s what I am? Extracurricular activity?”
“At least you’re something, right?”
“At least I’m something.” I took another smoke and flicked a scatter of ash over the edge of the roof. As much as I’d tried to convince myself otherwise, it was painfully obvious that I’d never gotten over the split with Loren and would quite likely never get over it. The shock of seeing her in my doorway had passed and left behind the nagging insect bites of emotions I’d long since tried to bury. She was still my wife, technically speaking, though I knew our roles would never be what our titles claimed. There just wasn’t room for it.
“Perhaps you could join me for dinner next week? We can talk about where things stand. Where they might go.”
“I think you already know the answers to those questions.” I lifted my eyebrows. She didn’t respond verbally, but the discomfort in her shifting stance told me all I needed to know. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want dinner,” I continued, smiling crookedly. “Your Handmaidens might have tried to skewer me— but they’re damn good cooks.”
“I can assure you, anyone loyal to Ricard has been dealt with.”
The firmness in which she spoke the words ‘dealt with’ sent a sharp chill down my spine. “What about Ricard himself?”
“He provides a bit more of a challenge. We have the prisons beneath Darkheart Manor, but they’re not really well-suited to long term residence. Dealing with him will be something we need to figure out.”
“At least he’s powerless now.”
“He can no longer cast magic. That doesn’t mean he’s powerless.”
“Fair point.” I nodded. “I’d like to say that’s your problem now, but there was a time once when each of our problems was both of our problems.”
“Trust me, Gus— you don’t want my problems.” At some point during our conversation, she had come closer and she reached out, caressing my cheek with one delicate hand.
“If it means you come with them— I think I could manage.”
“You’re sweet.” She leaned forward and gave me a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. A prick of heat formed at the point of contact and I couldn’t help but give in to the flood of memories. Good, bad, and indifferent. But what I drew most out of all of those memories was how isolated I’d become since we’d gone our separate ways. Yes, there was Sammy and Indigo, yes there was karaoke night at Doyle’s and the occasional female companionship born of those drunken singalongs.
But I’d put up a wall between myself and them all, keeping them at arm’s length so as not to risk further pain. Perhaps it was time to look at tearing down some of those walls. After all, I still had a lot of life to live, and what kind of life would that be without friends and partners?
“Stay safe, Gus.”
“You, too.”
“See you for dinner?”
“I’ll see if I can fit it into my busy social calendar.”
Loren rolled her eyes, then stepped away. As she crossed the roof, Indigo crested the edge on the other side, lowering herself.
“Sorry— didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“You didn’t, dear.” Loren reached out and touched Indigo’s hand with her own as she passed, a moment of surprising tenderness, especially between a witch and a vampire. “Keep him safe?”
“Give it my best shot.”
Loren swept her leg over the roof and vanished down the other side, leaving Indigo and me alone up top. The sun had set enough that she could actually emerge into the open air, and I could tell she’d been waiting for this opportunity all day. Without her even asking, I handed a cigarette to her, then used Firestarter to light it.
“Thanks.”
“I think I owe you the thanks. That was good timing on that last minute rescue.”
“Mostly luck.”
We both walked to the far edge of the roof again and took up position next to each other. “Last I heard, Fenric was putting you somewhere safe to keep you out of harm’s way until the storm passed.”
“Yeah, about that.”
I rested on my left elbow. She sucked eagerly at the Marlboro, still looking out over the darkening city.
“Do I want to hear this story?”
Indigo shrugged. “Probably not.”
“Where exactly did Fenric put you?”
“Nowhere good. Safe, maybe, but it was more a prison than anything else. All it was lacking was the bars.”
“I never should have taken her at her word.” I drew down on the Marlboro again, sucking in a desperate lungful of much-needed smoke. “How— did you get out?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to that question.
“Nature, uhh— finds a way.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Indigo didn’t answer, though her lips tilted into a soft, knowing smile.
“Fenric is going to be so pissed at me.” I shook my head, barely suppressing an untimely chuckle.
“When is she not?”
That was a fair question and a question that I couldn’t answer, at least not at that moment. Something told me, however, that the Fenric situation would be something that needed to be dealt with sooner or later.
My money was on sooner.
But that was a problem for a different time. For now, I stood in the dusk, enjoying the taste of nicotine and relishing the company of someone, in spite of all of my efforts, who I cared for.
The End