“Now you take the rest of your children home.” She smiled wanly. “Sylvester and I will … we’ll make our peace. We’ll do what we can for the children staying here, and for Quentin’s lady love. There must be a way around what Father did to her. Spells can always be broken.”
“All right,” I said, nodding. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Are you sure?” Her smile faded. “My father knows your name, and you’ve chosen Death for your driver. I’m sure she’s a sweet death, and one who wears your face most prettily, but she’s Death all the same. I’m sorry to be part of the reason that she’s here, but if you come back, it will be a miracle.”
“I’ll be back.”
“As you say.” She looked down, watching the blood trickling down her fingers. “You should go. The day is waning.”
I knew a dismissal when I heard one. I bowed and turned toward the door, shivering despite the warmth in the hall. Nothing was what it was supposed to be; I wasn’t sure I even knew who Luna was anymore. I certainly didn’t know who I was, and now I was going to die. The week just kept getting better.
I stepped back into the mortal world, closing my eyes as the door swung shut behind me, trying to reorient myself. The shock of transition is always there when we move between worlds; just another little consequence of being what we are.
For some reason I wasn’t surprised when I heard a familiar voice behind me, sounding amazed and a little frightened. It had been that kind of week. “That wasn’t you, was it?” I opened my eyes and turned to face Connor. He stared. “I saw your car, and you were with it, but you looked right through me. I thought you were mad, but you’re not, are you? That wasn’t you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Oh, there was a clever lie.
“Of course not. Toby.”
“Why are you calling me that?” My voice sounded childish and shrill, even to my own ears.
He shook his head, walking toward me. “Did you think losing a few years would fool me?”
“I sort of hoped,” I said, shoulders sagging.
“Wrong answer. I knew you when you were a kid, remember? You tried to drown me in your mom’s garden pond and got angry when I wouldn’t die. I used to spend hours watching you chase pixies in the hedge maze. I know you, October Daye, and you can’t hide from me.” He paused. “I’m sorry you feel like you need to. I don’t understand why.”
“I don’t,” I said, reeling. I don’t need anyone to know me that well. “This wasn’t voluntary—the Luidaeg did it to me.”
His eyes widened at the Luidaeg’s name, and he asked, “Why?”
“She said she needed to.” If he wanted the details, he could damn well drag them out of me. I didn’t feel like sharing.
“I see.” He looked at me for a moment, deciding not to press the issue. Smart boy. “So who’s the clone with the car?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “That’s May.”
“She looks just like you.”
“We’re sort of related.”
“I didn’t think you had a sister.”
“She’s not my sister.”
“So who is she?”
“My Fetch.”
The world stopped as Connor stared at me, shock and terror warring for dominance of his face. Finally, voice barely audible, he said, “What?”
“She’s my Fetch. She showed up just after you called this morning.”
He swallowed hard before asking, “Is that why you didn’t eat anything at breakfast?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“You could have said something.”
“I was in denial.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“Sorry. Next time Death decides to show up at my door, you’ll be the first to know.”
He dropped to his knees with a barking sigh. I stepped forward to meet him, and we clung to each other like we could stop the end of the world, me on my tiptoes and Connor kneeling. Spike leaned against me, chirping as Connor buried his face in my hair and shuddered.
“Don’t die,” he whispered. “Please, don’t die …”
Funny—I shared the sentiment. I didn’t say anything, but I held him and let him hold me. Maybe it wouldn’t change anything, but it could help, for a little while.
We let go of each other after a long while. Connor stood, asking, “Where are you going?”
“I have to get the rest of the kids home.”
“I’m coming with you.”
I paused, thinking about arguing, and then shrugged. If I was going to die and he wanted to be there, I wouldn’t stop him. “Fine. I do have one question, though.”
“What?”
“Do you want to drive?”
NINETEEN
MAY MOVED TO THE BACKSEAT with surprisingly good grace, pausing to stage whisper, “He’s cuter than I remembered!” Connor heard her and turned beet red; May winked at him, grin broadening as I glared. If she hadn’t been my personal incarnation of death, I’d have smacked her. As it was, I was strongly tempted.
Connor eyed May, saying, “Toby—”
“I know, Connor.” I climbed into the car, fastening my seat belt. Spike jumped up onto the dashboard and chirped, thorns rattling.
“Okay,” Connor said, settling in the driver’s seat and reaching up to adjust the rearview mirror. He paused before turning to look, disbelieving, into the back seat. “Uh, Toby? When did your car get this big?”
Only the kids I’d originally gone to save were left—Jessica, Andrew, and the children from Tybalt’s Court. Most were sleeping, but Raj and Jessica were awake, eyeing him balefully.
“The Luidaeg did it,” I said. “We needed the extra seats.”
“Uh, yeah, I can see that. Where did you—”
May poked her head back into the front, still grinning. “Look, big guy, I don’t mean to stress you out or anything, but you know we’re running on a time limit, right? We should probably make these drop-offs while Toby’s here to help.” In a weird way, she was saying what I would’ve said in her place. The faster we got the kids home, the sooner they’d be out of the walking blast radius that I’d become.
Connor stiffened and turned his attention to the wheel, pulling out of the parking lot without another word. May withdrew to the backseat, fastening her belt, and there was silence. I didn’t mind it; if no one else was talking, I didn’t have to. There was nothing for me to say.
We were halfway to San Francisco when I raised my head, blinking away tears, to find us at the base of the Bay Bridge. Connor was staring at the road, hands white-knuckled on the wheel. Maybe he hadn’t noticed my crying. Yeah, and maybe I’m the Queen of Faerie. I wiped my cheeks with vicious swipes of my hand, scowling. Damn it. I hate crying almost as much as I hate bleeding. They’re both signs of weakness, and I can’t afford either one.
I caught a glimpse of the rearview mirror as I lowered my hand. There were half a dozen motorcycles on the freeway behind us, weaving in and out of traffic, never quite letting us out of their sight. That wouldn’t have bothered me—there are lots of motorcycle gangs in the Bay Area—but they were following us. And that wasn’t possible. When we left the Luidaeg, she cast a don’t-look-here spell on the car. She’s Maeve’s daughter. We should have been so hard to see that we could be in an accident without anyone noticing, and we were being followed.
