Faefever Page 0,88
life, while I munched a power bar.
Home was a gazillion miles away.
Halloween was ten days away.
Soon, the sidhe-seers would be doing their thing at the abbey. Barrons and the MacKeltars would be doing theirs, in Scotland. I hadn’t yet decided where I would be. Barrons had asked me to accompany him, no doubt to OOP-detect the MacKeltar estate while we were there. I was considering crashing the abbey. I wanted to be somewhere, doing my part, whatever that might be, even if my part was only keeping Barrons and the MacKeltars from killing each other. Christian had phoned yesterday to tell me things were moving ahead, but if they survived the ritual, they might not survive each other.
Come All Hallows’ Eve, the walls would stand or fall.
Weirdly, I’d begun looking forward to Halloween, because at least my waiting would be over. Limbo would end. I’d know what I had to deal with. I’d know exactly how good or bad things were going to be. I’d know if I could be relieved—a year would buy me plenty of time to figure out what to do—or if I should be terrified. Either way, I’d have concretes.
I had no concretes where the Book (beast!) was concerned. I didn’t know how to get it or what to do with it.
I had no concretes where Barrons or V’lane were concerned. I didn’t trust either of them.
Making matters worse, each time I glanced out the window, or stepped outside, I had to battle the intense biological imperative to slay monsters. Or eat them.
Rhino-boys were everywhere, looking absurd in city employee uniforms, stumpy arms and legs popping buttons and straining seams. I felt a constant mild nausea from their presence. Reluctant to turn my “volume” down again, I’d begun taking Pepcid with my morning coffee. I’d even tried switching to decaf to calm my nerves. That had been a monumental mistake. I needed my caffeine. I made it one day.
Something had to give. I was a jumpy, broody, temperamental mess.
I can’t tell you how many times over those endless, angsty days, I decided to trust Barrons.
Then tossed him out in favor of V’lane.
I made my cases painstakingly, with lengthy lists of pros and cons neatly tabulated in my journal in three columns, tallying their “good” actions, “bad” actions, and those of “indeterminate nature.” The latter was by far the longest column for them both.
One day I even persuaded myself to throw in the towel, give Rowena my spear, and join up with the sidhe-seers. There was not only safety in numbers; I could pass off the crushing responsibility of decision-making, and hand it over to the Grand Mistress. If the world subsequently went to hell in a handbasket, at least I was off the hook. That was the Mac I knew. I never wanted to be in charge. I wanted to be taken care of. How had I gotten myself stuck in this mess where I was supposed to take care of everyone else?
Fortunately by the time Rowena returned my call, I was even grumpier, she was her usual pissy self, we’d swiftly gotten into one of our standoffs, and I’d come to my senses, pretending I’d only called to make sure she’d gotten the Orb, since she hadn’t been there when I’d dropped it by. If you called expecting thanks, you’ll be getting none from me, she’d snapped and hung up, reminding me of all the many reasons I couldn’t stand her.
Each day, I made one more slash mark on my calendar, and October 31 marched closer.
I remembered past Halloweens, the friends, the parties, the fun, and wondered what it would bring this year.
Tricks? Or treats?
Oh, yeah, something had to give.
At noon on Wednesday, I was at a spa in St. Maarten, getting a massage—V’lane’s latest gift from whatever Human Dating Manual he was reading. Was it any wonder I was rapidly losing any sense of reality? Monsters and mayhem and massages, oh my.
When it was over, I dressed and was escorted to a private dining room in the hotel where V’lane met me on a terrace overlooking the ocean. He pulled back a chair and seated me before a table drenched with linen, fine crystal, and finer food. Mac 1.0 would have felt many things: flattered, flirtatious, in her element. I felt hungry. I picked up a knife, stabbed a strawberry, and ate it off the blade. I might have used my spear but, as usual, it vanished the moment he appeared. I felt more