“It feels like it is.”
“It isn’t. You didn’t start this, Zara. Astley’s cracked-out relatives did. You didn’t make Hel or Loki or any of that real.”
“But I made the decision for us to be proactive.”
“We all did. We have to do it this way and you know it, or else we’re just sitting ducks wondering when they’ll attack. Amelie’s recon shows another hundred pixies have arrived. We have no time left, Zara. People are dying. You’re such a martyr sometimes. I swear that—” He starts to say something else but there’s a knock on the door. “Astley.”
He gets up and opens it. Astley’s on the porch with his retinue. They look serious and snowy but well dressed. Everyone except Astley wears parkas like they are about to spend time on some Aspen ski vacation. Astley wears his old leather jacket, no hat, no gloves. His eyes meet mine and my heart beats a little faster as he says, “May I come in?”
His voice is mellow and calm.
“Of course.” Nick opens the door wider. It’s a big step for the two of them to be talking and civilized. If they can work together it gives me hope—and hope is kind of rare right now.
I can’t help smiling as Astley steps inside and Nick closes the door, blocking out the cold. Astley smiles too. The others stay out on the porch. Frank and his minions are stalking Astley and me constantly. He can’t go anywhere without Becca and Amelie and three other bodyguard pixies, and it makes it hard to talk to him, hard to tell him what I’m feeling.
“I’m going to head upstairs,” Nick says, grabbing his laptop.
Astley waits until Nick’s retreated up the stairs and then he nods at Betty. “Is she—?”
She snores.
“Can’t you tell?”
His smile doesn’t show teeth, just pressed lips together. I bring him into the kitchen so we won’t wake her up. He leans against the counter, right by the fridge. I lean against the island, opposite him. There’s a tiny bit of gold dust on the floor. For a second we just look at each other.
“I miss being connected,” he says.
“Me too.”
An awkward silence descends upon us. He runs a hand through his hair. “I cannot change you back, Zara. The Council believes it will kill you. I cannot take that risk.”
I know it’s all melodramatic, but I close my eyes. I can’t stand looking at him right now—looking and not being able to tell what he’s feeling. I turn toward the island, put my elbows on the wood top of it, and hold my head. He comes up behind me and after a moment, puts his hands on my shoulders.
“Zara—” His voice is a hoarse whisper full of emotion.
“I just need a second. Sorry.” I swallow hard and stand up. He spins me around so we stand facing each other and my eyes are open again, open and staring up at him.
“Our branches are still entwined,” he says.
“You saw them?” I ask the simplest question instead of the hardest. I can’t believe he even risked going to them. If Frank followed him—
“No. I had their guardian check.” His hands move from my shoulders and down my arms, almost to my elbows and then back again. I am glad that he doesn’t turn me blue anymore. He used to before I changed. It was some sort of weird reaction of my half-pixie blood and it happened whenever he was near. He may not do that, but he does still make me woozy—lightheaded almost, when he touches me.
I ask the hard question. “What does it mean? That they are still entwined?”
He tilts his head just the tiniest of bits. “That we are still entwined? That our souls are connected or our fates? I do not know.”
My head moves forward so the top of it touches his chest. “Do you think we’re still connected?”
He inches away. His fingers graze my chin and make me lift my head back up so our eyes can meet. His are blue today. The pupils are large and dark. His voice is deep. “I do think so.”
I nod. His fingers move from my chin to my neck, just gently placed against my skin, and I say, “I can never thank you for all you’ve done for me. For getting Nick back. For helping us. For just—for being here.”
He blinks. I don’t know what he’s about to say or do. When I was pixie I could tell, but not anymore. Now I’m just human. I try to will him to kiss me, say it in my head, Kiss me… . Kiss me …
My psychic powers obviously suck, because he says, “And I thank you.”
“For what?” For not kissing him? For not making this more awkward? For staring at his lips like they are this really important book I need to read for AP Language and Comp?
He barely moves except for those lips. The clock on the microwave clicks ahead another minute, but we stand still here in the kitchen. Nick still stays upstairs, hopefully not listening with his wolf ears. Betty is still sleeping. Everything is that one word—still. We are still.
“Thank you,” he says, “for being brave after being thrust into a leadership role. For trying so hard to do the right thing for my people and for yours.”
“And for loving you?” I ask.
That was awkward.
His breath pulls in. “You love me?”
I can’t say it again, but I can nod. His fingers spread out, press against my hair and skin. He closes his eyes for one full second.
“You don’t have to say it back,” I whisper.
But he does.
“I love you, Zara. I love you and I cannot bear to lose you to this—this—” He searches for a word. “This war. You are human now and so vulnerable.”
“So are you,” I interrupt.
“I am a pixie king.”
“And you can die. We are—”
His head moves even closer to mine. “Do you remember kissing me?”
“When you turned me? Of course.” I shudder.
“No, in the parking lot of that grocery store—Hannaford’s?” He whispers these words into my ear and I remember. I remember feeling guilty about Nick. I remember feeling that it was right. I remember pushing all those feelings away. But now … now I wrap my fingers around his waist, touching the leather band of his jacket, the edge of it, and pull him closer. He lifts me up onto the counter. My feet dangle free.
I whisper back, “I remember.”
And then I kiss him, because sometimes you have to take a risk, because sometimes you just can’t wait anymore. Our lips meet and call out, pushing toward each other. The world turns silver like his real eyes. My body seems pointless. It is just souls meeting, gesturing against each other, needing and hoping.