Only I would be able to end this.
I shifted back in my seat, pushing my shoulders as far as I could into the leather until it creaked around me. I closed my eyes.
Instantly, the fireflies were there, begging me, beckoning me. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to follow them. It would wash away the doubt, wouldn’t it? I’d never have to worry, because I would never have to make a decision again.
I’d never been the kind of woman to pick my path and forge ahead. I’d always just kind of vacillated with no real idea what I wanted to do with my life. So maybe it was fitting that this power would decide my future for me. I’d never used my free will, anyway.
Yet, as soon as I thought that, I curled my hands into fists and fought against that conclusion. This wasn’t fitting. Nor was it something I deserved. This was a freaking curse. And there had to be a way – just had to be a way – to fight it.
All at once, I opened my eyes. It was in time to see Max staring at me, paying no attention whatsoever to where he drove. For anyone other than a fairy that would have been a seriously bad idea. But Max managed to keep us on the road and out of the ditch despite his break-neck speed.
“Chi,” he began, but he stopped abruptly, clearly having no idea what to say next.
So I got there first. “Max, I know you never want to talk about this, but just this once, answer me. What’s it like losing your memories? How much do you remember? I mean, how come you never forget about me? Or, if you use enough magic, will you forget me?”
Max pressed his lips together in the world’s softest smile. “How could I ever forget you?”
Once upon a time – in fact, not all that long ago – Max had never been anything but defensive and rude towards me. How much he’d changed.
“Why?” I pressed the point, watching him carefully for his reaction.
He only had one hand on the steering wheel, and he took it off as he gripped his chin. Miraculously, the car stayed on the road and didn’t plow into any pedestrians. “Those memories can never leave me. It’s only day-to-day stuff that can be lost by the use of magic.”
I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t. “Isn’t that a little convenient?”
Max swiveled his gaze towards me, obviously trying to judge my expression. “It’s not convenient – it’s just how it is. Plus, my contract with your family could only work if I remembered it and you. I imagine it protects that knowledge, but there’s not that much it can do for the rest of me.”
I nodded. It was a tight move. “How much do you know about that book, anyway?”
“As I’ve already told you – it’s the physical manifestation of the McLane curse,” he said, and the automatic way he spoke sounded as if he were repeating a statement he had rote learned.
I nodded. If Max had been watching me fully, he would have realized it was a forced move. He would also have appreciated that I was staring at him with the intensity of a scientist surveying a specimen.
“Do you have any choice in the matter?” I asked abruptly. “I mean, can you choose to break the contract with the McLanes and go and work for someone else?”
Max had turned from me to face the road, but slowly he returned his full attention to me. “What are you trying to get at?”
The truth, I thought to myself. “I just wondered if you’re like other fairies, that’s all,” I commented quickly. “From what I’ve seen of other fairies – like Dimitri – it seems they have the choice to switch employers whenever they want. It’s been clear from the beginning that you don’t think I’m a match for my grandmother. So I’m just wondering why you chose to stick around?”
He shot me a dark look. Or maybe it wasn’t dark. Maybe it was wounded. “Yeah, maybe to begin with I didn’t think you were a match for your grandmother. But I thought you’d changed?”
I didn’t nod or bother to affirm that statement in any way, I just watched him impassively, always sure to keep an eye on his shadow. “Maybe I have,” I finally conceded, “but I’m more interested in you. Like I said before, do you have any choice in this, Max? Or are you forced to be the McLane bodyguard?”
It was super clear that he hated this line of questioning, and yet, surprisingly, he wasn’t shutting it down with the same efficiency he usually used when he didn’t want to answer something. I watched him grit his teeth with enough tension to crush a bullet into dust. “It doesn’t matter what I want. All that matters is I’m here. And don’t compare me to that bastard, Dimitri – he had no loyalty.”
Max always talked about loyalty, and whenever he did, he would always get the same stiff, righteous look about him.
… The Max from the past had talked about loyalty, too, hadn’t he? Mary McLane had broken his trust, had been disloyal, and she’d paid the price.
“But if you want a real answer,” Max suddenly added, “then… no. I don’t have any choice in the matter.”
Don’t ask me why, but I swore he hadn’t been intending to tell me that. It was a combination of how wide his eyes suddenly flared and how stiff his hands became as they locked on the steering wheel.
I flicked my gaze back to the shadow. Was it just me, or was it weaker for
