The way everything had smelled like unwashed body and liquor.
And the way she had told Sloane to do whatever she wanted.
Albie gave her a sad look. “It would mean we have shitty parents,” he said, “which, to be honest, I pretty much already knew.”
“No, that’s not how it went.” Sloane was laughing through each word. “Bert took me aside and he was like, ‘You don’t seem to work well with people watching you.’ ”
“And then he told you to be the rogue assassin!” Albie exclaimed. “I’m telling you, that’s how it went.”
“How could you tell me how it went—you weren’t even there! Plus, I never assassinated anyone.”
“I’m telling you, you were a much more badass Chosen One than I was,” Albie said. “I was like . . . cannon fodder. Like what Bert said to me—‘You’re a good man in a storm, Albie. Matt’s lucky to have you.’ To die in his place so he can go on to save the world, you mean.”
Sloane shook her head. “You know that’s not what he meant.”
Albie shrugged.
“You motherfuckers.” Esther stalked over to them. Sloane hadn’t seen her come in. She wore a faux-fur coat that puffed up around her face like an old-fashioned ruff. Behind her were Ines and, brushing snow off his shoulders by the door, Matt. “Next time you’re going to bail, you better tell us first. I was talking to some woman about her trip to Florence for twenty minutes.”
She dropped her clutch on the bar, signaled the bartender, and ordered a small fleet of gin and tonics.
“Hey there,” Matt said, putting his hand on Sloane’s shoulder. His fingers were cold. “This is a weird way to celebrate our engagement.”
“Oh, boy. Fun’s over,” Sloane said to Albie.
“Shh,” Albie said. “He can hear you.”
“Geez. Tell me how you really feel, Sloane,” Matt said stiffly.
“I feel like I wish I hadn’t worn these spandex undergarments,” Sloane said. “Sit down, have a drink.”
“Why are your feet wrapped in napkins?” Esther asked her.
“If Albie had his way, my entire body would be wrapped in napkins,” Sloane said. “Nap wraps. Wrapkins.”
Matt was looking at her in a way she didn’t like. Like she was a car that had broken down on the side of the road and he was looking under the hood to see what the problem was. Like there was something wrong inside her that he could make right. And maybe that was the entire problem with them—he didn’t see her; he saw who she could be with a few adjustments, and all she wanted was to stay busted and be left alone.
“You know,” she said, propping her cheek on her hand, “I like being this way, actually.”
“What, drunk? Yeah, lots of people do, Slo,” Matt replied. His hand was still on her shoulder, but it was warm now, from her skin.
“Not drunk,” she said. “The way I am all the time. I am that way all the way through. No marshmallow center. Anybody else’ll tell you.”
Albie was nodding along. “Maybe like . . . a lemon-juice center. Or a licorice center.”
“Maybe other people don’t know you like I do,” Matt said gently.
“Except this is me, telling you,” Sloane said, her voice suddenly firmer. “The Dark One sucked out all my insides. I know it. Everyone knows it. Except you.”
“Sloane . . .”
“I’m going home,” she said. She peeled the napkins off her feet and put them on the bar. She stumbled outside, holding her shoes by the straps. Matt followed and hailed them a taxi. He didn’t try to talk to her, and he didn’t even object when Sloane cracked the window open and stuck her head out as they cruised down Lake Shore Drive. By the time they got home, her nose and cheeks were numb.
TOP SECRET
AGENCY FOR THE RESEARCH AND INVESTIGATION OF THE SUPRANORMAL
MEMORANDUM FOR: COMPTROLLER
ATTENTION: FINANCE DIVISION
SUBJECT: PROJECT RINGER, SUBPROJECT 5
Under the authority granted in the memorandum dated 4 March 2008 from the director of Central Intelligence to ARIS on the subject AR/CO-2 Project Ringer, subproject 5, code name Deep Dive has been approved, and $763,000.00 of the overall Project Ringer funds have been allocated to cover the subproject’s expenses.
Charlotte Krauss
Director of Artifact Research
ARIS
TOP SECRET
7
THE FUMES FROM MATT’S old diesel BMW combined with the hangover were making Sloane a little sick, so she leaned her temple against the cool window. Esther had left earlier that morning. They had dropped her off at the airport on the way, with a promise to fly out to California and visit her soon.