Choices
Charlie spewed wine, then quickly apologized. There was no way he would hand over a book of recipes of mass destruction and one recipe for bringing back the dead to a nutcase like Marco Torrelli. He’d made a huge mistake with Dr. St. Augustine when he’d uploaded parts of the deadly manuscript to the St. Augustine Virtual Library in the Fourth World simulated community. He’d nearly lost his career over it, but it had been an honest mistake.
“I don’t have it anymore.”
“Do you know where it is?”
“Lilah does, but she’s not told me. I can’t get it. Any other book but that one.”
“Marco wouldn’t be interested in any other book but those two. He’s been waiting for years for The Lost Teachings to become available.”
“What do you mean, ‘become available’?”
Rune ran her palm over the fabric above the splotch on her thigh, covering the bruise, and then slowly the skin above her knee, then letting the hem fall. “Marco knew from Father that the senator had ‘checked out’ the book from the library for fifty years, and that it was due back this week. Father knew him at University. They were close, but the senator refused to let Father use the book, even once. It had to be checked out to him by some kind of special librarian. Father said he would wait his turn and if his turn didn’t come, then his children’s might. Father waited his whole life. He died without his chance at the book.”
Suddenly, Charlie understood. Everything Marco had planned and had forced Rune to do led up to the meeting in Howth. Marco had sent Rune to befriend Charlie, then to lure Charlie into stealing two minor books so that he would be blackmailed into letting Marco know, via Rune, that Lilah and he were to pick up the book in Howth and take it to a location that only Lilah had been told.
Charlie gritted his teeth. Rune wasn’t the only one who’d been used. All his deepest fears were coming true. He drained the last of the wine and didn’t stop Rune from refilling it.
Wait. I’m still cursed.
Charlie straightened. “I’ll be damned.” And yes, he already was damned.
Rune set the wine bottle on the nightstand and returned to her spot beside him, a little closer this time. “What’s wrong?”
“The book we delivered to the Scholars’ Library wasn’t destroyed.”
“Why would you think that? There’s nothing left but bricks and flakes of paper all over the street.”
“Because. The ‘workings’ of the book are still in effect as long as the book exists. Whatever the reader creates through meditation with it comes into being and remains as long as the book does, unless the reader dies first and then it’s sealed into place.”
If only he could remember everything that was in the brief Dr. St. Augustine had insisted he and Lilah read. None of the book’s history had seemed important at the time, so he’d skimmed over it. He’d been preoccupied with staying clear of Rune’s brother and his threats, which had meant keeping his distance from Rune. Then Marco had threatened to go to Dr. St. Augustine with the truth about how two books had vanished from a secure facility. He’d been in too deep—he’d had to tell Rune about the assignment to Ireland to retrieve The Lost Teachings of Dead Monks, and she’d passed along the details to her brother.
“Don’t ask me how I know, but that book is still intact. Somebody must have removed it from the library between the time Lilah and I left, and your sister-in-law broke in, er, went in.”
He glanced around Rune’s room, next door to his room with Lilah. Two glasses of wine. A half-dressed woman. The real possibility of his employer firing him when she found out he’d been stealing from her. Rune’s bruises. The even realer possibility that Marco Torrelli would do her more harm to punish him for not cooperating. Not one person he could trust to either help him or not hate him if his secrets came out.
Yep, definitely still cursed.
“You’re certain that The Lost Teachings wasn’t destroyed?” Rune topped off his glass, and he let her.
“Certain.”
He didn’t know how much more complicated life could get, but he did know that one snag and it would unravel. Or maybe it already was. He saw little point in trying to impress Lilah any longer. Things were so bad that he couldn’t see her ever loving him if she knew the truth. She held him to much higher standards than Rune did. Bad men just had to breathe, and she wanted them, but not him. He had to be so much more just to get her attention.
Maybe he was fooling himself. He’d worked so hard to catch Lilah. Maybe the months since were simply a letdown effect. Maybe she was more fun to chase. Life hadn’t been bad with Lilah in their four months together since the fiasco with Jakin had ended. It hadn’t been bad at all. The distance between them was his fault, and he didn’t know why except for a secret named Rune.
The hard part was that if he withdrew or erected barriers to Lilah, then Lilah as an empath immediately threw up her shields and at the same time constantly questioned his motive for distance. Every emotion he felt was subject to her reading it and misinterpreting it, or worse—interpreting it correctly when he wanted to keep his secrets hidden. She couldn’t help that she was an empath, but it was exhausting to have to monitor his feelings around her.
With Rune, he monitored nothing. He was himself, shields down, and if he was distant, she didn’t push. She was patient with him and understanding of every feeling he expressed. She didn’t react at all toward the feelings he didn’t express. She was the opposite of Lilah. They were both beautiful and exceptional women, but apples to oranges. Or maybe apples to mangoes.
“Oh, Charlie! That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” Rune threw her arms around him. Her wine carelessly sloshed over the rim and dribbled off her hand. “You really are my hero.” The tears in her eyes were not for her family this time but for him.
Just looking at her melted his resolve. Charlie set down his glass. He took her hand in his and licked away the lost wine, then moved up to her lips. There was no pushing him away or taking control away from him. No holding back. There was only Rune, her mouth receptive and wanting. Never begging, never putting him off, never asking why he was being distant. Just always there for him when he was ready.
He was almost ready. Not even a thread was holding him back.
He couldn’t remember ever feeling as wanted as Rune made him feel. Ever.
Charlie set aside her glass also, never breaking the seal of her delicate, almost vulnerable kisses. He’d wanted Lilah so badly, for so long, but though Lilah loved him, this woman wanted him as more than a placeholder. She put him on a pedestal that Lilah never would. This was what he needed—someone who both wanted and needed him and let him know it with every kiss. He’d never realized until now just how much he’d needed this. Her. Rune.
“Charlie?” she whispered in his ear.
“Mm.” He kissed her more deeply, all the while moving next to her in what he intended to be a smooth transition to ease her luscious body flat onto the bed and crawl on top of her—
“Charlie.”
Ignoring her as she pulled back, Charlie tightened his embrace with one arm and, with the other, dug his fingers into her long hair and pulled her mouth into his. He’d never felt more like a man.
“Charlie!” She shook him off and pushed away from him.
“Wh-what?” He tried to catch his breath, but she was so damned beautiful and grateful and loving that he could take her right here and now.
“Charlie, not yet.”
“Mm, why not?” It came out as a moan.
“The book, Charlie. You said it wasn’t destroyed. Do you know where it is? I need to let Marco know. He’d like to kill something, and I don’t want it to be either of us.”
Charlie tried to move in for another kiss, but she pressed her palm against his chest.
“Aw, does it matter tonight? I want you… so bad.” His voice was low in his throat, and desperate.
“Yes, it matters. Do you know where the book is?”
Shaking his head, he darted in for a kiss on her chin. “No.”
She stood up to escape his grasp. “Then it’s pointless. Marco will kill me. Maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but eventually, he’ll kill me. And you’ll be long gone.”
“That’s not so. I would never leave you.” The words echoed in his ears. She wasn’t Lilah. She was a woman who needed him, who wanted to be with him. He was enough for Rune, but he would never be enough for Lilah.
“If I can’t offer him something to make up for what he lost last night, it won’t matter. I can’t make love to you while thinking of that. Isn’t there someone who would know where the book is?”
Charlie could barely think. He knew exactly what he was doing, but he needed the excuse of the wine.
“Emry.”
“Your coworker?”
“Yes. She might know.” Wait. Had he ever talked to Rune about Emry? He must have. He couldn’t remember.
“Call her.” Rune picked up his phone from the table and handed it to him. She waited for him to press the numbers on the screen before settling beside him. She was warm against his arm and back. She handed him his wine, and he drank too fast.
Four times in a row, Emry’s number went immediately to voicemail, which left Charlie concerned. It was early afternoon in Central Florida and Emry would be out of her graduate class and done with working on her dissertation inside Gate Three, the secure part of the library where books were not too dangerous but in the wrong hands might be unsafe. Medieval poison recipes, failed genetic experiments on homunculi and chimeras, maps to an underworld that were considered false when in fact the entrances had long ago collapsed. Emry should have been working now, even doing twice as much because both he and Lilah were gone and Samantha, their other coworker, wasn’t much use except to appease the nepotism gods of the university library’s director.
“Hey, Em,” he said when the call went to voice mail on the fifth try. His words slurred slightly. “Listen, can you give me a call when you get this? It’s important. Don’t tell… um, anyone. I need to know if you’ve heard anything about the artifact and where it might be. Call me, not—” Glancing sheepishly in Rune’s direction, he dared not invoke Lilah’s name and destroy the mood. “Not anyone else, okay?”
He hung up and dropped the phone onto the table, screen down, and quickly finished his wine. He barely tasted it. Why wouldn’t Emry answer? They weren’t just work buddies but friends. She’d tell him, surely, if The Lost Teachings of Dead Monks was heading to Florida. What if someone had gotten to her?
He didn’t want to worry Rune. He paused to mute his phone.
“If anyone knows anything, it’ll be Emry,” he murmured to Rune, who was softly trailing kisses on the back of his neck. “What she doesn’t know from Dr. St. Augustine, she has other ways.”
“What kind of ways?” Rune murmured in his ear, warm lips brushing his earlobe and making him shiver.
Charlie laughed for the first time in the last two days. “She’s a witch. Trust me, she has ways of finding out stuff.” He’d intentionally kept his distance from Emry over the last month. Every time he was around her, he prayed she couldn’t see his secrets. Empaths and witches just weirded him out.
Rune didn’t even blink at the thought of Emry being a witch. “Could she find out where the book is?”
“Maybe? She found my car keys twice with dowsing rods.” Why hadn’t Emry done the same with the two lesser books he’d stolen? Maybe she had.
“Can she tell me if you’ll leave me or if you’ll love me?”
“I told you I won’t leave you.” Marriage, on the other hand, wasn’t a given. He’d often heard it said that he couldn’t please two masters, but in this case, he couldn’t please two mistresses. He had to make up his mind, but it was as if he were walking around in a fog. He had no idea what to do, but if he was damned already, he might as well be damned with a woman who adored him.
“Promise you won’t leave? I-I have nothing. Marco has control of all my assets. If you leave me, I’ll have nothing, unless my brother chooses to be generous.” She ran one fingernail across her bruise.
“It won’t come to that.”
“You’ll take care of me?” He thought she would sob again. “You’re a good man. I think you’re the only good man I’ve ever known. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
Rune twisted in front of him, hands on his jaws, directing his mouth to hers. She kissed him hungrily, then pulled back to look up at him, eyes half-lidded. He’d never felt so wanted. He felt like that geeky teenaged version of himself being touched for the first time.
“You should be careful,” he teased. “Touching me like that. You may get more than you bargained for.”
“Mm, promise?” She lost her balance and brushed against his erection as she righted herself.
Her touch lit up his body, and it was all he could do to keep from moaning. He wasn’t sure if she’d meant to touch him or not. She had the power to dispense such erotic glances in his direction and yet not seem to understand her power over him at all.
Or maybe it was all bullshit, and he was eating it up because he was so hungry for a woman to admire him this way.
Charlie scooped her into his arms and whisked her backward onto the bed. He fumbled with his belt, one-handed, ripping at it, pushing his jeans down his hips. Sliding one hand up her leg, beyond the slit of her skirt, he touched bare hip and was surprised to find she wore nothing more. He groaned at the thought and shifted his weight onto the bed, between her knees, pushing the skirt higher and hearing it rip under his impatience.
“Oops,” he whispered.
She put her fingers to his lips. “Charlie, Charlie. Wait—”
His hands didn’t stop. He found the warmth between her legs and slipped one finger in deep, wanting to hear her gasp.
“Charlie, Charlie. Wait. Just a second.”
Condom, he thought. She wants a condom.
“I don’t have any protection with—”
“We don’t need it. I promise. The only protection I’ll ever need is your arms around me. Just say I’m yours.” Her whispers had turned eager.
“You’re mine,” he moaned, slipping a second finger inside her. He could barely wait.
“Charlie, I’ve not been with another man in a long, long time. Oh, Charlie, you know I’m not a one-night stand, don’t you? I’m not that kind of girl. I’m the kind who’ll always be devoted to you. Do you know what I’m saying? ‘Cause if you want me tonight and leave tomorrow, then leave now and don’t break my heart. But if you want me, make it forever, and I will give you everything you want in life.”
“You already have.” Respect. Gratitude. Affection. Purpose.
She was saying something he couldn’t understand. Her breaths and words mixed as he teased her with two fingers. “I… give myself to you, Charlie. Body and soul. I’m yours for the taking. Charlie… Charlie… will you give yourself to me?”
He didn’t have to be asked twice.
“Yes!” He pushed off the foot of the bed and into the space between her raised knees, her dress pushed up to her neck, breasts in his face, jeans still snagged on his hips, and plunged into her.
He dreamed. He dreamed she cried out his name. He was sweating, moving inside her, mouth on hers. She took him in, all of him, wrapped her ankles over his calves and pleaded for more, for harder, for deeper, for him, for her hero to make love to her. And when he was spent, he lay in her arms and dreamed some more.
He was somebody’s hero. Hers.
He dreamed that he slept. He dreamed she was beside him long before she left the hollow in the pillow and the warmth next to him cooled as she moved away in the darkness. He dreamed she kissed his fingertips and pressed them against her lips, one at a time. He wondered where Lilah was or why she’d not returned to the room next door. He let the wine take him and pushed all thoughts of Lilah out of his head. He dreamed he was standing in the crossroads still, but he’d finally moved, not forward but to the side, a detour to something or someone else. He’d made a decision, but it was still not too late to undo, even if it meant losing Lilah. He could still turn back or choose a different path, but there wasn’t much time left.
It was the blinking light that finally woke him. Sometime in the last few hours, Rune had come back to bed. When he opened his eyes, she was spooning against him, and he’d flung one arm over her body as though he could protect her from the world. He closed his eyes and relished this feeling—being her protector, her savior, her hero. Being the strong one.
Charlie could still see the blinking light faintly against his eyelids and again opened his eyes. Not moving, he stared over Rune’s head at the phone across the room. He felt groggy and a little sick, the way he always did when he drank too much wine. He gently disentangled himself from Rune and the sheets and sat up. He groaned out loud as he slung his feet over the side of the bed and found the floor.
Rune, in response, murmured something in her sleep and rolled back over, away from the blinking light.
Naked—and how he’d gotten naked, he wasn’t sure—he shuffled toward the phone on the table. His touch deactivated the blinking light, which was replaced by a faint, but steady outline of words.
Eighteen missed calls from Lilah and a slew of texts. Then one last message.
Guilt washed over him. It was already after midnight, according to his phone, and there was no way of slipping back into Lilah’s room or making any excuses for where he’d been all day. They’d never made a commitment to each other, he told himself. Their exclusivity had been more of a convenience. He hadn’t proposed to her yet.
At least Rune still thought he was a good person. Which was a good thing because he didn’t think that at all.
Lilah and Rune wanted very different things from him, and he couldn’t be both. Even if he had tried for the last month or so. He’d brought it on himself with the help of a book known for quickly manifesting the reader’s deepest hopes and fears. If the book hadn’t been destroyed, then maybe there was a snowball’s chance in hell that he could get his hands on it again, and this time, dream of a different future.
He scrolled through the unread messages from Lilah, looking for one from Emry. Nothing. Maybe if he called Emry back now, he could catch her before she went to bed for the evening.
Charlie snagged a bottle of cold water from the minibar and stumbled into the bathroom, where the sound of his voice wouldn’t disturb Rune. Or so Lilah wouldn’t hear him through the room’s thin walls.
The light in the bathroom nearly blinded him. He threw a white towel on the floor and sat down on it with his phone, making sure that the door behind him was securely closed before he leaned against it. He pressed his fingertip to the circle on the screen and, once his identity had been established, the display changed, showing all his messages and phone calls, as well as unheard voicemails. He took a deep breath, a swig of water, and punched in Emry’s number.
“Hello?” Impatience, confusion, frustration.
Charlie knew Emry well enough to read it in her voice. She’d directed it at him enough times when they had been working side-by-side in the library.
“Hello? Charlie, I know it’s you. I’ve got your number and your picture in my phone. You’re staring back at me with a big shit-eating grin.”
On her phone, he assumed. He certainly wasn’t grinning now.
“Dude, say something or I’m gonna hang up.”
“Emry. Thank God, you answered. I need to talk to you.”
“Didn’t you get my voicemail?”
He thumbed back through the messages on the phone. “No, I didn’t.”
She laughed. “I must’ve left a message for someone else. That’s weird.”
“What was the message, Em?”
“Are you okay? I’m picking up all kinds of weirdness off you right now. Like you’re in a tower with a teeny-tiny window that you’re looking out of, and you’ve got this little wooden gate you open and close to peer out. Nobody can get in. Have you popped the question yet?”
Damn it. He hated working with a psychic witch and an empathic girlfriend. He never had a moment’s peace. “Are you spying on me again? Because if you are—”
“Lighten up. No spying required. Drusilla told me.” Emry paused. “I can tell something’s wrong. What are you hiding?”
“What do you mean?”
“You must be half-Daeganean to be holding the kind of shields you are. There’s something you definitely don’t want me, or anyone else, to know. You are hellbent on making sure I don’t see it. That’s a lot of determination for someone who doesn’t practice witchcraft.”
“Do you mind if we skip the small talk, Em? Something bad happened last night. That’s why I called earlier.”
“The explosion? Drusilla told me all about it. Raven was there and saw everything.”
Raven? The librarian?
“That asshole’s alive?”
“Be nice!” Her voice was way too adoring. “Yes, Raven escaped.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve talked to him myself. Anyway, it’s like I told you in my voicemail. The artifact is fine. Raven has to authenticate it and give it to Lilah, if he didn’t already today at Tara.”
Tara? Raven had been with Lilah at Tara? Lilah might have the artifact right now, hidden somewhere only a wall or two away.
“Charlie? I know you’re in trouble.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Are you listening to me? I can’t keep covering for you. Drusilla knows about the two books you took. You know how she feels about people borrowing her books without permission. Just ask Lilah what happened the last time she borrowed one. I’m glad I’m not you!”
A wave of nausea swept over him. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine or the thought of being caught. He hadn’t asked her to cover for him. He dared not say anything or else incriminate himself. Silence was his best bet.
“Drusilla said we’ll talk more about it when you and Lilah get back. I knew it was you because of the chips in the spines and the time of day that the books left the library. There were only three of us signed in at that time, and the other two were Lilah and me. Those two books came up on the black market earlier today. Yesterday, your time. Somebody needed to get rid of them, so they were willing to sell them cheap. I need to know: was that you, Charlie? Did you sell them today?”
He shook his head and then remembered she couldn’t see him, and he was grateful. “No,” he croaked out, “it wasn’t me.”
“It wasn’t you who stole them or wasn’t you who sold them?”
He didn’t answer. He leaned forward and put his forehead on the cold outer rim of the toilet just in case the nausea didn’t stay down. When he could breathe again, he asked, “Does Lilah know?”
“She won’t admit it if she does. At least, not to herself. She believes in you. She thinks you’re the best person who’s ever come into her life. That’s what happens when you have nothing but shitty relationships in your past.”
He dropped the phone to his towel, grabbed the toilet bowl, and retched several times. When he was done, he let the lid drop too hard and leaned back against the wall, water in his eyes from the violence of his panic.
“Charlie? Charlie?” Emry’s voice was still clear, even though he didn’t have her on speakerphone.
He picked up the phone, then just held it to his ear for a few moments before he could speak. “Sorry. I guess my past is catching up with me.”
“Dude, what is wrong with you? I can’t cover for you, but maybe I can help.”
“Nobody can help me now. But thanks for the offer.”
“Did you need money to buy the ring? Was that it? I can’t say Drusilla’s going to understand, but she might be a little more forgiving. It’s not like the books were really important. We got them back cheaply. Maybe she won’t fire you over it if she knows you did it so you’d have the money for the ring.”
“Stop, Emry. Just stop.”
“I don’t understand why you didn’t just ask somebody for the money. I mean, it’s not like I have the money, but I know people who do, and you could’ve borrowed it from them. Lilah isn’t exactly a materialistic person. You could’ve gotten her a ring from a candy machine, and as long as you’re sincere, she would have been happy.”
“Emry, please just stop. I’m caught in a crossroads, and I don’t know which way to go. I gotta make a decision soon.”
“Crossroads? Yes, that’s exactly what I see when I think of you. Stuck in a crossroads. Charlie, you’ve still got time. You know what they say about crossroads, right? There are legends all around them. Crossroads are a between-the-worlds place. Different realities, depending on which path you take.”
“I can’t exactly turn around and go back.”
“It is an option.”
“Not for me.”
“Maybe you’ll let me do a little bit of, um, work for you.”
He knew what she meant. Witchcraft, spells, rituals. She was a High Priestess of the Morrigan, which was just low-level freaky, unlike the Daeganean priesthood which was super-rich and powerful.
“Sure. If you think it will help.”
“I’ll do that tonight then, before I go to bed. Maybe right at midnight. I’ll call on Hecate. She’s the goddess of the crossroads, you know. She’s also a death goddess, like the Morrigan.”
“Oh, great.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. She walks the line between life and death. She’s the goddess of women and childbirth. Maybe a crone version of Artemis, the solitary huntress with her dogs. But Charlie, whatever decision you make in this crossroads, you need to think it through very carefully. I’m picking up vibes of you that tell me you’ve still got time. But not that much time. If you stay in the crossroads for too long, things attach themselves to you. That includes people, and some people get hurt.”
“Thanks, Emry. You’re a good friend. You always have been.”
“Anytime, dude. I’m not judging you. We all make mistakes. Lilah, of all people, will understand that. So what if you’re not as perfect as she thought you were? She’d find out, sooner or later, that you’re human. In any case, when you kneel at her feet on the Cliffs of Moher, know that you have my blessing to ask her to marry you.”
“Thanks, Em,” he murmured. She was still talking when he thumbed the OFF button.
He opened the door but left the light as he stumbled back to the bed where Rune now lay on her stomach, sprawled across all four corners of the bed. He didn’t want to disturb her, so he snagged a spare pillow and put it on the floor next to the bed. Flat on his back, arms to the side, Charlie stared at the ceiling in the faint light of the bathroom glow.
Rune’s brother had lied—yet again—and sold the two books which could so easily be traced back to him. There was no turning back now. He’d slept with Rune, too. No turning back from that either. He was slowly stepping out of the crossroads, deciding a path he didn’t want to take.
He couldn’t keep staying where he was. He had to do something.
For now, he was tired, so tired. He closed his eyes and felt himself falling asleep. The last thing he heard was the sobbing of a woman somewhere far away… on the other side of the wall.
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