Tyler stood there in a small crowd of rippling mirages, checking his watch, glancing back toward the booth as he waited for their round of drinks. When the tray was ready, he took one more look over his shoulder.
Then he unscrewed a silver flask, holding it close to his chest, and splashed clear liquid into one of the glasses.
The bar shimmered and disappeared. They were standing out on the boulevard under a buzzing streetlamp. A rental van pulled up to the curb and the side door rattled open. Strong hands dragged a motionless body into the back.
Rime turned on Seelie, eyes blazing, fists clenched. “What did you do to me?”
“Lethe-water,” Seelie said. “One drop and you forget. Three, and you sleep forever.”
The street was gone. Rime’s sleeping body was barely visible through a gap in some broken masonry. A wheelbarrow rolled up on the other side. Gloved hands slapped a brick down and spread fresh grout over the top.
“Oh, this all happened…three or four hours ago,” Seelie told him. “You’re dreaming. Admittedly, I’m pretty new at all this dream-witch stuff, but I’m a quick learner. Nell said I should leave you trapped in a nightmare, but I said no. I’m not cruel, like you are. And like I said, my rule tonight is that everyone gets a happy ending. That’s the dream I wove for you. Your happy ending, where you get to win. You get your revenge, and you get to do the only thing you love. Killing. And when it starts all over again, you won’t remember this part. You’ll never even know we beat you. You’ll never know that none of this is real.”
“What do you mean,” Rime whispered, his voice tinged with dread, “starts all over?”
Seelie held up her hand. She pressed her thumb against her middle finger.
“No,” Rime said as it dawned on him. “No, please no. Mercy!”
The brass-ringed tray in Tyler’s hands came down hard on the table, meeting it with a leaden snap.
“Peace talks,” he said as he passed out the drinks, “go better with booze. Or soda, in Seelie’s case. Drink up.”
80.
A hot breeze ruffled Nell’s hair as she waited on the steps outside the Brooklyn Standard, pacing, watching the crowds. Finally, the door swung open and Tyler stepped out, squinting up at the sun like he hadn’t seen it in a week.
“Verdict?” she said.
“Bill said he wants you back at your desk first thing in the morning.”
He didn’t seem entirely happy.
“But,” she said.
“But the investors are still antsy, and they get the final say. The pedo not only recanted his story, he admitted Harrelson put him up to it. The same day he went on TV, your dumbass ex-boyfriend deposited five hundred bucks on the guy’s prison commissary account using his personal credit card, so he’s in a lot of trouble right now.”
“And they’re antsy, why?”
“You know how these things work.”
“Lies on the front page, retractions in the back?”
“People heard you blew a story and a man died,” Tyler said. “And most of those people didn’t hear that none of it was true. On the bright side, you’re not fired. Official word is you’re back when your suspension is up. They just want things to cool down before you start making bylines again. C’mon, I gotta catch my train.”
“Where are you off to?”
He hesitated, his gaze sliding away from her, almost guilty. Then he showed her a business card. Dr. Justin Liu, it read, Post-Traumatic Stress Therapy.
“Oh, hon.” She threw her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’ll give it a shot. That’s all I promise.”
They walked together.
“So, I’m on unpaid vacation for another week and a half,” she said.
“There are worse fates. Take up a hobby. Learn to knit.”
“I don’t want to knit. I want to work. Hey, you remember when we talked about writing a piece on the problems at the Housing Authority?”
“Vaguely,” he said.
“Well? What are you doing tomorrow?”
Tyler laughed. “What part of ‘unpaid’ are you not registering? It’ll keep until you get back.”
They came to the subway station steps. He stopped at the top, off to one side of the iron rail, turning to face her.
“This is what I do,” Nell said. “And I want to get back to work. With you, partner.”
He reached out. He took her hand.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s meet for lunch. Bundle up whatever notes you’ve got, we’ll talk about an angle.”
“Yes. And…do you mind paying for lunch?”
Tyler grinned. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I see how this