A Little Night Magic Page 0,72
to slow my thudding heart, and with great effort, pushed myself up to sitting.
"You forget the part where I saved your life? Least you can do is listen when I say you need rest."
"I want to know what happened," I said. "To Holly."
He gave me a dark look. "You know all you need to know."
"What was she like?"
"Lie back down. You look like you're gonna vomit again, and I don't want a mess on my floor."
"I just want to know what she was like," I said. "Was she pretty? Was she kind? Was she smart? Funny?"
Just the effort of sitting up was making me dizzy, but the idea of lying down and going to sleep without learning everything there was to know about my sister from the man who had loved her seemed unthinkable.
Cain leaned forward, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. "We'll talk when you're stronger. But for now, you need to rest. Okay?"
"Okay." I leaned back, slowly, onto the couch and my body trembled a bit with the effort. My eyes filled with tears, and I didn't bother to blink them back. A father I'd never known about was missing, probably dead; a sister I'd never known about was definitely dead; and the friend I'd thought could help me make sense out of it all had betrayed me.
Cain shifted in his seat, but I didn't look at him, just closed my eyes and let the tears flow. Screw him if he didn't like it.
I heard him get up a moment later, and when I looked up, he was holding a roll of toilet paper out to me.
"Thanks." I took it from him, ripped off a length, and blew my nose. He sat down in the recliner and kicked the legs out again. I cried for as long as I needed to, and he didn't say a word. After a while, the grief dried up, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. I snuggled into the soft pillow.
"Happy Larry really is a sleazebag," I said, sniffling.
"Yeah," he said quietly, leaning his head back on the chair and closing his eyes. "He is."
* * *
I don't know how long I slept, but it was almost dark when I opened my eyes again. I could feel the thump-thump from the music downstairs in the bar, but I couldn't hear clearly enough to tell what song it was exactly, which said some impressive things about the construction of the building, considering the apartment was right on top of the bar. I stretched for a moment, rolled on my side, and looked around.
Cain was gone, but Tobias was there, asleep in the orange easy chair, his hands clasped lightly over his stomach. I didn't make any noise, just watched him, but apparently the heat of my stare was enough to wake him. He opened his eyes and watched me for a long while, unmoving.
"How are you doing?" he said finally.
I sniffed. "It smells bad in here."
"That's probably me."
"I don't think so." I reached up to my neck, where something was tucked around my throat, into my sweatshirt. I pulled it out, holding it away from me with my two fingers.
A damp gym sock that had been filled with some kind of weird paste.
"Oh, right," Tobias said. "That's a poultice, for your throat. Cain sent me all the way out to Buffalo to get the mullein. I don't even know what the hell else he put in there."
"These people and gym socks, I swear. Smells like a mix of baby butt paste and dead muskrat." I tossed it across the room and lay back down. "Where is Cain?"
"Outside, having a smoke." Tobias kept his eyes on me, and even in the dark, I could see the intensity in his expression as he watched me. "How are you feeling?"
I took a moment to check myself. I wasn't cold anymore. My throat was still a bit raw, but definitely improved. My muscles felt weak and sore, but other than that ...
"I think I might survive."
Tobias cleared his throat. "For a while there, we weren't sure you would."
"Oh." I swallowed. "Sorry."
His every muscle seemed taut with tension, making him look like an animal on alert for an attack. "Wanna tell me what the hell happened?"
I looked at him, surprised by the sudden ice in his tone. "You know what happened."
He got up from the chair and went to the window, staring out of it as he spoke. "I know that I asked you to stay home and wait for me,