I mustered a smile for him. “On the Loop? Not for years. But I look forward to it.”
He nodded. “Good. Speaking of which, have you eaten this evening? There’s no roast duck this time, I’m afraid, but there should be plenty of options in the freezer. Just help yourself.”
“Thanks, Guthrie,” I said, feeling like I had just gained much more of an insight into Rans’ taciturn friend. “I grabbed some fast food at the airport, so I’m good. I’ll make sure to go rummaging in the morning if I need something to tide me over until lunch, though.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he told me. “Oh, and if you don’t feel like fighting the crowds tomorrow evening, the view of the downtown fireworks display is actually pretty good from the roof even though we’re a few miles from the riverfront.”
My body froze as my mind registered the meaning behind the innocent words. I barely noticed it when Guthrie inclined his head briefly to Rans and headed deeper into the apartment. The silence stretched for a long moment as I tried to reorient myself around the reminder of tomorrow’s date.
“You’d lost track of the day, I take it?” Rans asked quietly. “Understandable—given, well, everything.”
“I wasn’t even paying attention,” I managed.
July Fourth. The date my mother had been killed. And I’d forgotten all about it.
FOUR
WHAT AN IDIOT I was. I’d been wandering around in a daze since Ireland. I still had one of the cheap burner phones in my possession, but I hadn’t taken it out of my suitcase in days to look at the display. The battery was probably dead by now, anyway. Even so, the date must have been plastered all over the various airports I’d been through... printed on the boarding passes, lit up on the arrivals and departures displays. I hadn’t noticed. It simply hadn’t registered.
“Twenty years,” I breathed. Tomorrow, it would be two decades exactly since my mother was shot in front of me... and I’d forgotten all about it. Jesus, what kind of a daughter did that make me?
“You’ve had a few other things on your plate, these last few days,” Rans said, still in the same calm voice.
I ran a shaky hand through my curls. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” A new thought hit me. “Dad’s all alone.”
Strong hands closed around my shoulders from behind. Rans’ fingers were cool through the fabric of my blouse. “Zorah. He’s in Dhuinne. There’s no technology. There are no calendars marked with Earthen dates hanging on the walls where he’s being kept. And, anyway, I doubt he’s alone. The cat-sidhe seemed rather attached to him.”
Closing my eyes, I attempted to let that sink in. He was right. If Dad was in any kind of mental condition to understand the anniversary in the first place, he would still have no way of knowing it was tomorrow.
“Okay,” I said. “Yeah. He’ll be all right. At least... as all right as he can be, under the circumstances.”
I had to believe that, even if tears were still burning at the backs of my eyes. I refused to let them fall. I needed to think about something else. Anything else. The deep breath I drew hurt my lungs, but I felt a little better after I let it out. My fingers curled around Rans’ hand on my left shoulder. He squeezed once and let his grip fall away, sliding out from under my touch.
“Can we... talk somewhere private?” I asked, suddenly desperate for distraction. “I have more questions.”
“Of course, luv,” he said. “Let’s drop our luggage in one of the guest rooms, and then I know just the place.”
For some stupid reason, a small jolt ran through me when I recognized the bed where Rans had first touched me and shared his power with my succubus nature. It was as though my emotions were on hair-trigger, ready to explode at the slightest brush. In a daze, I ran my hand over the sky-blue comforter, lying clean and pristine across the soft mattress.
“Guess Guthrie’s cleaning service got the blood out, after all,” I said absently.
“Hmm?” Rans asked, stowing our carryon bags out of the way in a corner.
“This duvet,” I said. “You bled on it when we were here last time.”
He spared the bed a glance, and I wondered what he thought about its unspoken associations. “Did I? That seems shamefully rude of me,” he quipped. “Between the cleaning bill and the artery-munching, it’s a wonder Guthrie keeps letting me come back here.”
With that, he ushered me out of the bedroom and down a hallway. The room at the very end contained exercise equipment. One wall was made almost completely of glass, with a sliding door leading onto a rooftop patio. Beyond, the city lights sparkled, dancing through the distortions caused by the humid evening atmosphere as St. Louis surrendered the day’s heat to the sky. I took it all in, breathing deeply.
The outdoor space was as beautiful as the rest of the place. As far as I could tell, it wrapped all the way around the penthouse suite. Large potted plants had been placed at regular intervals along the length of the concrete wall surrounding the open area. Strategically placed lights illuminated our surroundings without overpowering the spectacular view beyond.
A hot tub bubbled away to my right, and a swim spa lay nearby, its current rippling gently. Iron patio furniture was scattered invitingly around the remaining space, making me wonder how much use the place got, given Guthrie’s apparent tendency to be reclusive.
“I wouldn’t have pegged our host as the type to throw lavish rooftop parties,” I said, glad of the new subject to focus on.
Rans leaned against the low wall at the edge of the building and shrugged. “He’s not exactly a social butterfly, but he is a businessman—and quite a savvy one, at that. He knows how to grease the wheels as needed.”
“How did you two meet, anyway?” I asked, genuinely curious.
He turned around, leaning hipshot on the wall with only empty
