“Good choice.” She sauntered off.
“So,” Terric said. “We’re unemployed and being hunted. Got any ideas about that?”
“You’re a graphic designer,” I said. “So you’ve that to fall back on. Mum’s inn brings in enough I can skim profits, and she doesn’t care.”
“I was talking about the hunted part. Price on our heads. Wanted by the government?”
I shrugged. “Let them want me. I’m not worried.”
He leaned forward, the Void stone necklace swinging outward just a bit before it settled again against his pale gray dress shirt, and regarded me with a look that was too kind for the sort of hell he’d been through in his life. “You won’t even consider relocating? There’s nothing holding you here, Shame.”
“Sure there is.”
“What? Name one thing that ties you down to Portland.”
Was that a dare? Did he want me to say it was him? Us? Soul Complements and magic?
“I have a better idea,” I said, picking apart the side of the wooden table with my thumbnail. “You just tell me what you want to do, since that’s why we’re really talking, right?”
He inhaled, exhaled, eyes tightening slightly. Annoyed.
“I get that you don’t fear death,” he said. The waitress showed up, set our beers out for us. Mine: dark. His: dark. Huh. I wondered when he’d switched over from the light brews.
“And I know you don’t care if someone tries to kill you,” he continued once she had moved on. “But this isn’t a street brawl, Shame. This isn’t even a magic user after you. This is the government. Bullets are faster than magic. Even our magic. The government has resources and reach you can’t escape.”
“Who says I want to escape?” I said cheerfully. I picked up my beer, swallowed some down. Damn fine. Set it back on the table. “It does sound like fun, doesn’t it? Being chased. Wanted man. Final showdown.”
He leaned back and gave me a courtroom stare. No more happy in those eyes. No more kindness. “Ever think that maybe they don’t want to kill you, Shame? Ever think that maybe they have ways to force you to stay alive? Ways to force you to do what they want you to do?”
“That someone might want to use me, use this thing inside me? Sure,” I said. “I think about it every damn minute. What happens if I lose control. What happens if someone else tries to control this.” I lifted my fingers just a bit and the rings across my right knuckles crackled with sparks of red.
“There isn’t anything out there that scares me anymore, Terric. Not the big bad government, not the big bad Authority. Not life. Not death.”
He took a drink of his beer, set it down, and turned it slowly with just the tips of his fingers clearing away the condensation. Didn’t look at me. “Three out of four, anyway.”
“How’s that?”
Took another drink. Looked at me this time.
“I believe three out of four of those. You might not be afraid of the government or the Authority, or death. But life? I think life scares the crap out of you, Shame Flynn. Why else have you been running and hiding from it for almost two years?”
I just shook my head and drank my beer.
I hated when he was right.
Terric’s phone rang. Which was just as well. I was done with this conversation years ago.
The waitress showed up with our plates. I gave her a hey-baby smile and a thank-you.
When I looked back over at Terric he was frowning at his phone and texting.
I took a huge bite of the burger and groaned with joy. I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. Did a quick count in my head.
Yep. Days.
Terric didn’t touch his food. He hit SEND on the text, then wrapped his fingers around his beer and stared at the table.
“More bad news?” I asked.
“No.” He lifted his fork and dug at his food before putting a bite in his mouth.
I worked my way through half the burger. Watched Terric rearranging the food on his plate.
“What was that text?” I asked.
“Personal.”
“And?”
“Do you really want to know what’s going on in my personal life?”
“Well, no. Not really. But that text made you stop talking. And I am always interested in ways of accomplishing that.”
Faint smile. He sat back, fork left behind in the mashed potatoes. “I’m dating someone.”
“Uh-huh.” I drank beer to wash down salt and grease.
He was watching me. Waiting.
“Terric, you always have a boyfriend. Don’t care.” Half the burger down, half to go. I took another bite.
“That was him on the phone.” Shrug.
“You like him?” I asked.
His eyes skittered away from mine. “Most of the time.” Eyes back on me again. Smile that faded too quickly.
I moved on to the pile of french fries. “And the rest of the time?”
“It’s complicated.”
I ate for a bit, wiped my fingertips on the napkin, then finished my beer.
Terric still wasn’t eating. Wasn’t looking at me either.
“Here’s what I think,” I started.
“Didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“I think when you date guys you like, you smile a lot. You talk about them a lot. And when you talk about them, you don’t lose your appetite.”
“Your point?”
“You haven’t even told me his name, and for a guy who insisted I go out to lunch because
Terric shook his head, then leaned off the back of his chair and took a couple bites.
I flagged the waitress for another round of beers and finished the rest of my lunch. My gut was killing me. I think that was more than I’d eaten in a week.
“Maybe it’s time to move on,” I said.
“Which subject are we on now?”
“Boyfriend. Maybe you got what you wanted, and it’s time to move on.”
“He has cancer, Shame.”
“That’s not your fault.”
Terric shook his head again. This time there was some fire in his eyes. “You might not give a damn about people, Shame, but I do.”
“No. What I care about doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’m just telling you what you already know. Guilt is a stupid reason to remain in a bad situation.”
“Are you done?”
“Yes.”
“Good. So what do you want to do?”
“About your boyfriend?” I asked.
“No. Being hunted.”
The waitress showed up with our beers and I took a long pull before answering, “Fuck all if I know. Stay here. Watch things blow up. Or make things blow up. Do you know what Zay and Allie are doing?”
“Staying. For now. But they’re making . . . other plans.”
“Like?”
He shook his head. “You should talk to them. They should be the ones who tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Nope. New subject: Who’s the redhead following you?”
