Chapter 16

Alex wasn't quite sure what to do with the fact that everyone was staring at her. Okay, fine—she was dressed up like Morticia Addams updated her wardrobe. To the 1940s. She understood why people were gawking a bit at the two of them.

But she tried her best to pretend they were all staring at Izael, instead. She would be right with them if things had panned out differently. Hell, she found herself staring, and they were sleeping together. It was damn hard not to appreciate the view, however. His tall frame with the perfectly tailored and eccentric suit that looked like someone dropped acid before reading through an old Sears catalogue. He was all shades of black and teal to go with his hair. At least his eyes weren't glowing, though they were still slitted like a snake's.

At least everyone would assume they were contacts.

He walked into the place like he owned it, holding her hand and pulling her along behind him. Like a fish in water, he was perfectly in his element. Gods, he was beautiful. But just like the animal he shared so many traits with, he was also clearly dangerous. Marked in bright colors and flashy designs to warn predators that he was deadly.

And to attract mates.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she let him pull her toward the bar. And for the next few hours, they drank, they laughed, they danced—they had fun. More fun than she could remember having in a very, very long time.

She was happy.

Really, honestly happy.

When was the last time that had been true? When she was a kid? A college student full of hopes and dreams? Sure, she had moments of happiness. Of contentment. Times where it didn't all feel pointless and empty. But not like this. This was different. This was deeper.

She was sitting at their booth by the back wall, tucked under Izael's arm and resting against his side as she nursed her drink—something called a Remember the Maine. Izael kept ordering things from the bartender that made the poor man pull out his phone to search for the recipes.

It was then that Izael put in front of her an ultimatum. "Fourth drink or sing."

Letting out a breath, she looked up to the stage. The band was doing well that night—she knew from experience there wasn't a lot of work available in Boston doing what they did, and especially not in the "vintage jazz" scene. They all seemed to be having a blast. It did look like fun. It almost made her miss her college years.

Almost.

A fourth drink was dangerous. She was already fluffy after three, and a fourth at that point would put her way too close to being drunk for her comfort level. It just wasn't something she enjoyed.

"You did promise me." Izael kissed her temple.

"Yeah, but I got out of that one, remember?"

"Fine. But you didn't keep to the spirit of the agreement."

Chuckling, she glanced up at him. "And since when do fae care about the spirit of a contract? You're all about technicalities and loopholes."

"I care when it suits me to care. And right now, it suits me." Smiling playfully at her, he nudged her in the ribs. "Go on, songbird. I want to finally hear you sing. We won't have another chance."

That was a fair point. And it sent her mood smashing through the floor into the basement. But she picked it up, dusted it off, and put it back on the first floor. Tonight wasn't about their impending doom. Tonight was about having fun.

Tonight was about them.

Whatever they were.

She still wasn't sure. And honestly, she probably didn't have the time to figure it out. With a shrug, she scooted away from Izael and off the upholstered bench of the booth. "Fine, fine. I'll sing. I'm not sure they'll be too thrilled about a rando coming up and asking to take the mic."

"I already paid them off. They're expecting you." There was that shit-eating grin again.

"Of course, you did. Why am I surprised?" Picking up a piece of popcorn from the bowl the waitress had brought them, she tossed it at him.

Deflecting it easily, he laughed. "No clue. It's more fun if you are, though."

She supposed that was also fair. "All right, then. Well. Here's hoping the crowd doesn't boo me off the stage."

"I am positive they won't." He stretched out his arms on either side of him, draping them over the back of the booth, making himself comfortable. He looked straight out of a twisted nightmare of a mobster movie. A sexy, twisted, nightmare mobster movie. With monsters. That ate people.

And had two?—

Anyway. She turned her back on him and walked to the stage. It was funny—she had gone into performing for a living. That was what she had told herself she wanted to do for the rest of her life. But her nerves were on high alert. It was probably because she really had no business being here. This wasn't her stage, her gig, her band. She was an interloper.

There was no turning back now.

That about sums things up, doesn't it? That really was the whole-ass vibe of the past few weeks of her life. No turning back. She'd started this, and now she had to see it through.

Shit.

Just…shit.

She only had herself to blame for getting herself into this mess. Well, half of it was her fault, anyway. The other half she'd put squarely on the snake. Walking up to the stage, she smiled at the drummer as they finished their song. "My boyfriend thinks this was a cute idea, sorry."

The drummer laughed. "Don't sweat it. He paid us more than we make in a month."

"Well, then, I won't feel too bad about it if I suck." She climbed onto the stage, smiling and greeting the other musicians in turn. She was pretty sure she wasn't going to bomb. But anything was possible.

The lead singer handed off the mic. Taking a breath, she let it out, and turned to the rest of the band. "How about No Good Man inB??" It was a slower piece, and that was what she was in the mood for. And besides, it was just snarky enough to make the whole situation a bit more amusing.

"You got it, boss," the man playing the stand-up bass replied. She thought he might have said his name was Ryan, but she was shit with names on a good day, and she probably had less than twenty-four hours to live.

Her mind was elsewhere.

They started up, and she rested her hands on the mic stand. Shutting her eyes, she let herself feel the music. Let herself hear the world around her.

All the music of the world around her seemed to merge into the song the band was playing. Every note was perfect—every note was in tune. It felt like she was placing her hands on the keys of a piano, but not pressing down. The potential was there—it'd be so simple.

Play a chord, and the man two tables over by the wall would become a chihuahua and pee on the floor.

Play a different one, and the woman who was desperately flirting with the bartender would turn into a cactus.

I shouldn't have this kind of power.

I really, really shouldn't.

As the lead-in to the music finished, she began to sing. She just let the song take her, her fingers resting atop those proverbial keys. She didn't press any of the keys, but that wasn't to say she wasn't tempted.

It'd be so easy. Just slam her hands down, and the whole room would look like the rainforest portion of a zoo. All the human lives would change instruments. Animals, plants—everything they weren't meant to be.

The lyrics left her effortlessly as she sang the tune about a man who had done her wrong. All the while, the temptation was there. At some point, she had closed her eyes, though she wasn't sure when, sinking fully into the music.

When the song ended, she blinked her eyes open. Everyone was watching her, mouths agape. Was she that bad?

Izael was the first person to break the silence, the first clap of his hands shattering the veil. Everyone in the room jolted, startled out of their daze, and began to applaud along with him.

"Damn, lady—" The pianist laughed. "You want a job?"

Chuckling, she smiled shyly at him and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Sorry, I'm moving out of state soon." On the River Styx, but he didn't need to know that. "Thanks, though."

"Come sing with us anytime." The man shook his head. "No offense, Bill, but damn. And she's also prettier than you."

Bill, apparently the name of their normal lead singer, looked just as stunned. He huffed a laugh. "Yeah, yeah."

Walking off the stage, she waved at them. "Thanks, guys. Have a good night." Everyone was staring at her. She headed back to the booth where Izael was waiting, his teal eyes locked on her as she approached.

It took everything in her not to scamper out of the proverbial limelight as she sat on the bench and let out the breath she had apparently been holding. "There. Happy?"

Izael grabbed her wrist and pulled her over to him so abruptly she squeaked in surprise. He pulled her almost entirely into his lap, muffling her protest with his lips. He kissed her fiercely, the suddenness of it making her head spin.

When he finally let her breathe, he placed his palm to her cheek and stroked her skin gently with the pad of his thumb. "I thought I could not ever love you more. I was deeply mistaken."

She met his gaze, her eyes flicking between his. There was no deviousness in him, no wicked, illicit joy. Just love. Love…and awe. Of her. Of how he felt.

It caught her like a butterfly in a net.

"What?" He furrowed his brow. "Do I have lipstick on me now?" Turning his head to the side, he wiped his mouth with his hand and checked it for her crimson lipstick.

It made her laugh quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "No, you're fine. I'm just overwhelmed. That was trippy."

"I can imagine. You've never taken over that number of people before."

"What do you mean, taken over?"

"You had them all. You were conducting an orchestra. Even if you didn't screw with their physical forms, you were forcing them all to play their music your way. You hypnotized them. You could have commanded them to do anything you wanted. Riot. Murder. Chaos." He growled. "Gods. That's so damn hot."

"I'm gonna pretend that's not disturbing." Reaching for his drink, she took a gulp of it.

"Which part?"

"Both."

He snickered. "Come on. Let's go home. I have a desperate need to do terrible things to you." Izael let go of her, if clearly reluctantly, so they could both scoot out of the bench to leave the club.

The blast of cold air that hit her when they stepped out into the night air felt amazing. She hadn't realized how hot it was in there until it changed. Shutting her eyes, she took a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

The stars were barely visible through all the light pollution. Just a few stray bright dots in a sky stained with the orange hue of city lights. It had no right to be as beautiful as it was. And it was going to be her last time seeing it.

Her last time on Earth.

Taking his hand, she led him down the street. "Let's go for a walk."

"Where?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm…just not ready to leave yet."

It looked like he was going to argue for a moment, but seeing the look on her face, his expression smoothed, and he stayed quiet. He just gently squeezed her hand as they walked along the city street in silence.

Cars occasionally drove by, but Boston was a pretty sleepy city, all things considered. It was still only around eleven, but the traffic was already thinning out. That was what happened when last call was at midnight, maybe one in the morning if the bar was being particularly frisky. Or was particularly dive-y. Either way.

The city stank, as all cities did. It smelled of garbage, exhaust, hints of leaky gas pipes and standing water. The pavement was stained with years of she-really-didn't-want-to-know-what. All the trees she could see were put there on purpose, their existence to try to add scenery to the bricks and concrete somehow laughable.

A rat skittered around a corner into an alley.

Boston was gross.

She was going to miss it.

For the four hours I'm alive after we leave.

They walked until they reached a small neighborhood park. It was really just a patch of grass between buildings where dogs could do their business and children could play on the multi-colored metal structures. Walking up to the swing set, she sat down on one of the curved rubber pieces. Izael sat in the one next to her before idly kicking and swinging back and forth.

No one was around, save for the stray person likely walking home, their heads lowered, hands shoved in their pockets.

"I don't want to die." It was an obvious statement, but she felt like she needed to make it anyway. "I don't want to do this."

"I know. Neither do I." He leaned his head against the rubber-coated chain. She remembered the days when the chain was just steel, and if you got pinched, well that was on you. "But the other option is war. And you said no to that already."

"Yeah. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it." She started rocking back and forth as well, her feet not leaving the ground. Why was that so comforting? It didn't really matter. Probably something that called back to being a baby.

Should she text someone? Say goodbye? She was just going to go missing. Her friends—the ones she had, anyway—would eventually notice. Her family wouldn't give a shit. They checked in with her maybe once a year if they remembered.

"No one's going to miss me." It was another statement that she felt compelled to say. "I have no job. My few friends are mostly digital now—they'll notice eventually, but they won't ever know what happened. My family doesn't give a fuck."

"What happened between you and them?"

She shrugged. "Honestly? Nothing. That's the worst part. No big blowup, no big trauma—it's not like my dad touched me or my mom beat me or anything. I was just clearly not a kid they wanted to have. Both in general and me specifically. They were both distant all through my childhood. When I moved away to go to college for music, they saw it as a perfect opportunity to totally write me off. Said that if that was my decision, they'd have no part in it. I was on my own." After a pause, she laughed quietly. "It wasn't that much of a loss."

"You don't care?"

"I do. I mean, of course I do. I see people with families and I'm jealous. But—like—you and Anfar. You aren't close."

"No. We certainly are not."

"And your mother?"

"Wants nothing to do with me, either." Izael sneered. "I was kicked out of that world. They begged Anfar to take me away."

"You know it's messed up when the people that are probably going to miss me the most are Puck, Bayodan, and Cruinn." She snorted. "Okay, and Pumpkin. He'll miss me. I think. But he's also a cat."

"He'll miss you. The rest? Who knows." Letting out a hum, it was clear something just occurred to him. "I don't think anyone will miss me. If anything, I think they'll be relieved." He looked puzzled at that for a moment. "I don't think I like how that makes me feel."

"It's probably not something you've ever cared about before."

"Certainly not. I am ageless. I am the Duke of Bones." Straightening his back, he puffed himself up like a peacock. "I'm not supposed to care."

"Doesn't do much good, does it, what you're supposed to care about or not?" Case in point. She cared about him. And that's something she really shouldn't have let herself do.

"Seems so."

Silence stretched on for a few more minutes as they sat there, watching the city with its occasional cars and pedestrians. It was a sad and lonely existence, even surrounded by people. It was fascinating how sometimes being in a crowd was more isolating than not. The buildings around them were filled with people living their lives. Watching TV, sleeping, reading a book, playing videogames—going about their own dramas and their own events.

And none of them knew Alex and Izael even existed. They would come and go from this moment. Nobody would care.

She took Izael's hand and squeezed it.

Nobody would care.

But they had each other. They cared.

He squeezed her hand in return.

Shutting her eyes, she nodded. It was time to go. Standing, she pulled him to his feet and hugged him.

Kissing the top of her head, he held her gently. "I'm still fucking you stupid," he murmured into her hair. "I refuse to die horny."

That got her to snort in laughter. Reaching up, she caressed his cheek, tracing the line of his cheekbone that could cut glass. "No wonder you've lived so long."

Grinning, he scooped her up in his arms. "Finally, you understand."

Wrapping her arms around behind his neck, the world fell away as he took them to Tir n'Aill.

For the last time.