Stopping Time, Part 2 - By Melissa Marr Page 0,2

uninjured?”

“I’ll be here.” Irial walked into the doorway of the building where he had his no-longer-secret apartment and stared up at her window. “But you didn’t need me, did you? You’d already got yourself to safety.”

“If I call the police now…”

Gently, Irial told her, “There’s no one for them to collect, love.”

“Sometimes, I sleep better knowing you…and Niall…” She faltered.

“Love you from a safe distance,” he finished.

“Yes.”

“And we always will. Whatever distance—however far or near you want us—that’s where we will both be as long as we live.” Irial paused, knowing the time was wrong, but not knowing if she’d ever call him again. “Niall will be here tonight. Let him comfort you. Let yourself comfort him.”

Gabriel stood scowling.

Irial held up a hand for silence. “I need to go deal with things. Think about seeing Niall?”

He glanced up at the window where Leslie now stood watching him. When her emotions were this raw, she drew upon their residual connection like a starving thing. He shivered at the feelings roiling inside of her. He couldn’t drink them, not now that she’d cut apart their bond, but he could still feel them.

“I…” Leslie started, but she couldn’t say the words. She put her hand on the window as if to touch him through the glass and distance.

“I know.” Irial disconnected and then silently added, I love you too, Shadow Girl.

Then he slid the phone into his pocket and stepped up to Gabriel. “Well?”

Extending his arm so Irial could only see part of the orders, Gabriel gestured to the street in front of them. “Walk.”

Once they reached the sidewalk café, Irial waited until Gabriel left before taking a seat across the table from his king. When it was just the two of them, he asked, “Shall we try to enjoy lunch? Or do you want to try to reprimand me for the error of my ways?”

The look Niall gave him was assessing. “I’m not sure which of those would please you more.”

Irial shrugged. “Both are tempting.”

“I asked you to stay away from her.” Niall’s possessiveness beat against Irial’s skin like moth wings.

“I have trouble with authority,” Irial said. “She’s safe, though, isn’t she?”

Niall smiled, reluctantly. “She is. From him…”

“Good.”

The waitress had already delivered a drink. Niall’s allure to mortals did result in superb service. Irial glanced up and a waitress appeared. “Another of these.” He pointed at Niall’s glass. “Fresh bread. Cheese tray. No menus just now.”

Once she was gone, he sat back and waited.

Niall stared at him for several breaths before getting to the inevitable issue. “You gave me your vow of fealty.”

“True.” Irial reached out and took Niall’s glass.

When Niall didn’t react, Irial drank from it.

The Dark King still didn’t respond. So, Irial leaned forward, flipped open the front of Niall’s jacket, and retrieved the cigarette case from the inside pocket. To his credit, Niall didn’t flinch when Irial’s fingers grazed Niall’s chest.

Silently, Irial extracted a cigarette, packed it, and held it to his lips.

Niall scowled, but he extended a lighter nonetheless.

Irial took a long drag from the now lit cigarette before speaking. “I’m better at this game, Niall. You can be the intimidating, bad-tempered king to everyone but me. We both know that I wouldn’t raise a hand to stop you if you wanted to take all of your tempers out on me. There’s only one person I’d protect at your expense…and her life span is but a blink of ours.”

“You’re addictive to mortals now.”

“I know,” Irial agreed. “That’s why I won’t touch her. Not ever again.”

“You still love her.”

Irial took another drag on his cigarette. “Yet I did the one thing that would assure that I can’t be with her. I am quite capable of continuing to love someone”—he caught Niall’s gaze—“without touching them. You, of everyone in this world, know that.”

As always, Niall was the first to look away. That subject was forbidden. Niall might understand now why Irial had not stepped in when Niall offered himself over to the court’s abuse centuries ago, but he didn’t forgive—not completely.

Maybe in another twelve centuries.

“She is sad,” Irial said, drawing Niall’s gaze back, “as you are.”

“She doesn’t want…” The words died before Niall could complete the lie. “She says she doesn’t want a relationship with either of us.”

Irial flicked his ash onto the sidewalk. “Sometimes you need to accept what a person—or faery—can offer. Do you think I’d come see her if she didn’t want me to?”

Niall stilled.

“Every week she is at the same place at the same time.” Irial