Lyssa raised her brow. Eddie stared at Roland with a look in his eyes that was heartbreakingly vulnerable.
Long Nu backed away. “You’ve made an odd decision today, Roland. Not entirely practical. Or wise.” She gave Lyssa a long hard look. “Your father was equally foolish.”
She started forward, but Eddie held her back. “Go to hell. He loved us.”
“Love is rarely enough,” replied the old dragon.
Without another word, she turned and walked down the corridor. The elevator opened for her, she stepped forward. . and in moments was gone.
Lyssa let out a shaky breath and collapsed into the nearest chair. Eddie sat beside her, with a wildness in his eyes that felt too familiar.
Roland bowed his head, rubbing his neck.
“Both of you,” he said gruffly. “Tell me everything.”
Eddie found Lyssa on the roof of the old building, watching the city come alive in light.
A fire burned in the copper pit, and her feet were propped up on a wooden bench. She held a bottle of water in her left hand, and her right — ungloved, exposed — hung loose off the arm of her chair.
The wind was sweet. Eddie took a moment, watching her, soaking in the miracle all over again.
I hope I never screw it up.
He ventured close. Lyssa did not turn around but she set down her water. “I smell pizza.”
“There’s an Italian restaurant downstairs. Roland has them on speed dial.” Eddie sat beside her, sliding a box across the small table between them. “Meat. A lot of it.”
Lyssa’s mouth quirked, but she looked away at the city. “This has been a strange couple days.”
He stared at his hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Estefan.”
She sighed. “If you had. . I would have run like hell. I wasn’t ready to hear that news. You were right.”
“Still,” he said. “It bothered me, keeping that from you.”
“I called his wife.” Lyssa glanced at him, and tears glittered in her eyes. “Josie was glad to hear from me, I think. But she didn’t know who killed her husband.”
“Did you tell her?”
“I told her. . I took care of it. That it was a shape-shifter thing. And she believed me.” She rubbed her eyes “I don’t want to be a good liar about things like that.”
Eddie stared at the city, then the burning fire. Without quite realizing what he was doing, he found himself reaching out — sticking his hand into the flames.
He felt nothing. Just a tickle. Movement of air over his skin.
“What Long Nu said,” he murmured, “about children.”
Lyssa tensed. “I want them. I didn’t before. . but I do now.”
She sounded defensive, but Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. “I do, too.”
“With me?”
“Of course. Who else?”
She smiled, but it was tremulous. “You looked at me as if I were an idiot for asking. I like that.”
“Good.”
“But I had to ask. This has all been so fast. We didn’t. . talk about that.”
“No, we didn’t. Like I told you, though. . I like surprises.”
“I like you,” she said, and all that good heat spread through him like the sun was blooming in his bones.
Eddie pulled his hand from the fire and reached for her. Lyssa met him halfway, and he could see in her eyes the weight of the day bearing down on her. This was his home, not hers. She had been wrenched across the country, away from what she was used to — forced to deal with people she hated, people who were grieving — just as she was grieving.
He hauled her into his lap, holding her tight in his arms. The sky was darker, the city brighter. Her hair smelled like woodsmoke and something sweetly indefinable. . maybe his shampoo.
She buried her face in his neck, and her body slowly began to relax. His did, too, and after a short, very comfortable, time. . he began to drift off.
Until his cell phone rang.
Lyssa flinched. Eddie briefly considered not answering until he looked at the screen.
“Mom,” he answered.
“Matthew Swint,” she said, and dread splashed him cold. “He was here.”
“I’m coming,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eddie’s mother was a short, slender woman with an elfin face and long dark hair streaked with silver. She wore jeans and a white blouse with chunky turquoise jewelry — but the bright clean colors only seemed to enhance the sadness in her eyes.
Especially, thought Eddie, when she looked at him.
She met them at the door and seemed only a little surprised to find that he had brought someone with him. Lyssa was calm and polite, and her smile was warm. But she walked to the windows as Eddie spoke to his mother, and he knew her good eyes were scanning the shadows outside the house for any unwelcome observers.
Roland still had some clothes that had belonged to an old girlfriend, a woman Eddie knew well. Soria was shorter than Lyssa, but her style was the same: long-sleeved flowing blouses and equally long skirts. A silken scarf embroidered with turquoise beads covered her throat, but she’d kept the cream-colored knit gloves Serena had given her in New York. It didn’t look all that odd, put together.
“Where is he?” asked Eddie.
“I don’t know,” said his mother, rubbing a shaking hand through her hair. “I happened to look out the kitchen window, and he was in the backyard, staring at the house. I called you as soon as it happened.”
Fear and loathing touched her eyes. “He was thinner, and his skin sagged. He looked. . sick.”
Eddie felt sick. “We’ll find him.”
“No, you stay away from him.”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“You have to.” His mother’s voice broke. “Edward—”
“No.”
“I can’t lose you.”
“You should have thought—” Eddie stopped, but too late. His mother stared at him, no doubt hearing the rest of that sentence in her head.
You should have thought of that.
All the color drained from her face. He looked away, shame rolling off him like a bitter cloud.
“Mom,” he said, softly. “Keep the doors locked. Call Grandma and tell her to do the same.”
She didn’t say a word.
Outside, Eddie strode down the front walk, past the rental car, and down the street. His hands were in his hair, partially covering his face. Every inch of him was strained and rigid.
Lyssa followed, allowing him his silence — until even he couldn’t take it anymore.
“I hate him,” Eddie snapped. “Come on. There’s a park nearby.”
A small park, filled with trees and a several wide paths. It was empty except for two joggers in black pants and sweatshirts who ran past them with a large golden retriever. The dog shied from Lyssa with a whimper.
They found a bench and sat down. It all seemed too normal, far away from the disgusting horror of the previous night.
But not sufficiently far away from the horror of his childhood, years and years in the past.
“I’ll never be able to talk with her about this,” he said. “It’ll kill her. It might kill me.”
Lyssa leaned against him. “Some things can’t be talked about. Anyone who says differently has never lived through a truly horrible event.”
“And saying the words doesn’t heal anything unless you’re saying them to the right person, at the right time.” Eddie bowed his head, kneading his brow. “You were the right person, the right time. My mom. . isn’t.”
“If you told her that you forgive her—”
“I don’t,” he interrupted, then softened his voice. “One day, maybe. Not yet.”