When I reached the third floor, I left the stairwell. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep up this pace. I followed the hallway and found a waiting area. Trying to catch my breath, I leaned against the wall. I’d lost her. I could play hide and seek for the rest of the week and never find her. I had two choices: keep chasing after Sissy, or let the big guys handle it. The thought crossed my mind that I should go back to Jeremiah’s room, but I decided against it. There was a small chance that Sissy would end up back there, anyway. Maybe I should wait her out.
I felt selfish for not going back with Jeremiah, but seeing him in that vegetative state was more than I could handle.
No, I can’t go back.
I’d have to wait her out.
Soft amber light glowed from lamps that illuminated the waiting room’s sofas. I fell onto one of the seats, and the weight of the past few weeks crashed with me.
I felt alone.
I shouldn’t. I had friends, family. But still I felt as if I were the only person in the world trying to save my godson.
Bill Clinton told me not to feel that way, but pushing those kinds of thoughts out of my head wasn’t always easy.
I’d failed Jeremiah. I’d lost Sissy. Maybe I should throw in the towel and call it quits.
Tears welled up in my eyes. I grabbed a tissue off one of the tables and blotted my eyes. I hated crying. It made me feel pitiful and weak, but at the moment, I didn’t know what else to do.
Some tough and powerful practitioner I’ve become.
I felt grateful that no one was here to see me—especially one person in particular.
Al told me to pull it together.
After a few minutes of self-pity, I listened. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. A phone book sat on a table, and I grabbed it. This could accomplish two things: keep my mind occupied, and search for the elusive Mr. Green.
My heart sank as I searched the listings. Two-and-a-half pages of Green. I counted ninety-two in the Houston metro area. Finding Mr. Green was almost as hard as finding Sissy.
How long would it take me to call them all? What would I say? That I’d met him in a fairy world dreamland?
Sure. I would definitely get tossed in the psych ward—a place I’d spent time in before, but never as an actual resident.
I scanned through the listing of Greens, hoping the powers of the universe would illuminate the right one. No such thing happened. I was on my own.
“Found you.”
I looked up to see the Skullsplitter himself. He had some nerve.
“Got tired of sticking your thumbs up your posterior while teenage girls escaped you?”
He sat down across from me. “You’re angry.”
“What gave it away?”
“You’re cute when you’re angry.”
I gripped the phone book so tight my knuckles turned white. Nothing ever turned out how it should. Maybe I shouldn’t let him get under my skin—he had risked life and limb for me after all—but right now, all I wanted was to clout him with the phone book. If we hadn’t been wasting time at that stupid museum, I could have found Sissy sooner. I could have been there for Jeremiah sooner.
“They’ll find her,” he said.
“Will they? This isn’t Faythander. Humans aren’t used to tracking like you are. They don’t have magic to help them; they don’t have elven technology. She could hide out in a place like this for weeks.”
“Why do you concern yourself with her? She isn’t your offspring.”
“Someone has to take responsibility for her.”
“Why should it be you?”
I stared him down. Was he serious? I guess that’s what distinguished him from the rest of the human race. I’d started to think of him as an equal, but in reality, he was a warrior. Searching for stray kids was beneath him, but maybe I could explain it in a way he would understand.
“Sissy’s mom was my best friend when we were younger. Before she died, I gave her my promise to watch over her kids. I refuse to break my promise to her. I can’t let her down.”
“But you burden yourself too much. If you truly wish to protect the children, you’ll have to learn to let others help you.”
“Kull, I’m not like you. I don’t live in a castle surrounded with family and friends and servants willing to come to my aid at a moment’s notice. I live alone. I never see my family. The dragons have bigger problems. I’m by myself.”
“You aren’t right now.”
Why did he have to sound so sincere?
“And you’ll be married soon. You’ll have two kingdoms to rule. I appreciate your help, but honestly, how long can it last?”
He touched my hand. It was such a small gesture, but the warmth of his skin calmed my thumping heart. I exhaled, and my pent-up frustrations went with it. How did he do that? I would’ve blamed magic, but knew it couldn’t be. This was a power stronger than magic.
“I’m here now.”
Something inside screamed for me to push him away. The more attached I got to him, the harder it would be to let go. But he was right. He was here. No one else was. I cursed myself for being so vulnerable. This was my own fault.
He squeezed my hand and looked into my eyes.
He had gorgeous eyes the crystal-blue color of glacier ice—cold, yet comforting at the same time. I imagined what it would be like to wake up every morning and stare into those eyes, to feel his arms wrapped around me.
“Your hands are cold,” he said.
“They’re fine.”
“They’re trembling.”
“Trembling?” Next I’d have to tell him he was a scoundrel and remind him that I happened to like nice men.
“Your choice of a companion isn’t right for you,” he said.
When did we get on that subject?
“Brent is not my companion. I could say the same thing
