Chapter sixteen
home is where my cat is
“ N ell, wake up. You’re home.”
Reluctant to give up the peace of sleep, I groaned and blinked awake. Outside my apartment, Darragh held me in his arms. “How’d we get here?” I asked. Darragh set me down. He held up Senan’s orb in response.
“Why don’t I remember?”
“Tea.”
I recalled the tea with Senan and Darragh. I’d laughed and enjoyed myself, until suddenly, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. “Don’t do that again.”
“The journey is difficult. I thought this might be easier—”
“I don’t like it.”
“I won’t do it again,” Darragh promised.
Snowflakes drifted from the sky, and I looked longingly at my warm apartment. “ What happens now?”
“We part ways.”
It was obvious that Darragh and I would part ways. But I’d been so focused on getting home, I hadn’t really thought about it. Now, faced with the reality that I might never see Darragh again, my stomach tugged—horrified by the very thought.
“It’s freezing,” I started. “Why don’t you stay with me while you’re here?”
Darragh’s eyes darted to my apartment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’ll be safe.” I smiled and nodded at the stairs.
Darragh returned the smile, but shook his head. “Goodbye, Nell.” I bit my tongue as Darragh made his way down the alley. I trudged up the stairs and closed the door behind me. I looked over my messy kitchen. This is what I wanted, right? To be safe and comfortable in my home. I kicked off my shoes and leaned on the table. Silence stoked the tension in my belly. The apartment was different, somehow changed while I was gone.
The space didn’t feel safe, or comfortable at all.
It felt empty.
My mind wandered to Darragh, lumbering away in the snow. The longer I waited, the farther his feet carried him away from me.
No.
This couldn’t be the end.
I yanked the door open. “Darragh—”
Darragh stood on the other side, hand raised, prepared to knock.
***
In my living room, a table and lamp lay on the carpet. “Someone was here,” I said, stepping around glass fragments.
Darragh, who was fixated on the tiles by the door, pulled his gaze away and said, “How can you tell?” He looked around the untidy kitchen, over the dishes, which had sat in the sink for so many days now.
The rest of my apartment was undisturbed. I checked cabinets and closets, but nothing was missing. “They didn’t take anything.” I pointed at the lamp and the table. “It’s just this.”
“At least they didn’t take anything.” Darragh stooped to clean up the glass. It was odd, how quickly he dismissed an intruder. If I was alone, I might have been more concerned. A buzzing sounded in the kitchen. I followed it and snatched my phone from a pile of discarded papers on the counter. “Oof.” I clutched it to my breast. “I missed you.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Darragh said, “but I let everyone know you’d be gone for a bit.”
I checked my texts. One to Morgan: “ Have to leave for an emergency, will let you know when I’m back.” And Darragh had sent the same one to Sasha, with an extra line asking him to check in on Watney .
“I see there weren’t many people to tell.”
Darragh dumped glass shards in the trash. “I don’t think even Bowyn would know I disappeared until the food stopped showing up.”
A wall of texts awaited me in Sasha’s chat.
“Are you okay?”
“What’s going on?”
“I took your smelly cat to my place. Your place was a mess. Glass everywhere.”
“IF YOU’RE ALIVE YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE!!!”
“NELL???? Should I be worried?”
Crap.
“ I’m so sorry,” I texted back. “My phone died and I forgot the charger. I’m home now. Can you drop Watney off otw to the café in the morning? ” Dots arose as Sasha typed, but I set my phone down. Across the apartment, Darragh pressed his forehead against the window, examining the fire escape.
“What are you doing?” I joined him .
“This is the only one?” Darragh pointed at the escape.
“What?”
“Is this the only fire escape in the building?”
I looked at it, seeing it for the first time. “I don’t know. I guess?”
Darragh offered a grim nod and turned away.
“Would you like something to eat?” Thankfully, Darragh replied that he would not. I’m sure any food in the fridge was long rotten. Standing awkwardly in my living room, Darragh possessed a jumpy irritation. He glanced at the couch, as if he were deciding whether to sit down or flee. Hoping to encourage the former, I sat and waved for him to join me. “What will you do now that you’re here?”
“There’s someone in town I need to escort back to Hiraeth.” Darragh sat on the edge of the couch. “I’d nearly had him before I—we had to leave.”
“Would I know him?”
“He goes by Marlowe here. James Marlowe.”
My jaw dropped. “James Marlowe? As in Sexiest Person Alive ? That Marlowe?”
Darragh sneered and looked like he might disagree. He paused, considering. “If I weren’t convinced of his backstabbing treachery, I might think him handsome.”
It had to be him. Marlowe, a famous actor, was in town for a show. Sasha gushed about him non-stop, but even his father, Regé, an actor in the local theatre circuit, couldn’t get us tickets. My first real crush, I’d had pictures of James Marlowe plastered over the walls of my childhood bedroom. Even thinking about him brought a fluttery smile to my lips. Darragh didn’t have to read my mind to know how I felt. He crossed his arms and frowned.
Changing the subject, I said, “I’m not really tired yet. Do you want to watch a movie before bed?”
“Sure. I’ve read about movies.”
“Yeah, they’re…well, they’re kind of like your memories , but fake.” I knelt in front of the shelf beside the TV.
“What sort of movies do you like?” Darragh asked.
“Uh,” my mind emptied. I looked at the shelves to remind myself of a single movie I liked. Army of Darkness, Aliens, Tremors (one through seven), Ever After . “I don’t know. I like scary things and fairy tales.”
Darragh sat more comfortably on the couch. “What’s a fairy tale?”
“A magical story with a happy ending.”
“What if there’s magic, but no happy ending?”
“That would be a tragedy, and I wouldn’t be interested.”
I chose one my favourites, Ever After . Sometimes when I had trouble sleeping, I put it on. I selected it now for that very reason, but once it started, I quickly learned I wouldn’t sleep anytime soon.
Darragh watched.
The.
Entire.
Thing.
I also learned I couldn’t talk. Every time I spoke, Darragh asked if we could go back a few seconds in case he missed something. I side eyed him as the movie finished, savouring the way he grinned and wiped a sneaky tear away.
“Did you like it?”
Darragh smiled and nodded bashfully. “Can we watch it again?” I laughed, then realized he was serious. The clock on the stove read 3:38 a.m. I thought about how comfortable my bed would be right about now.
I hit play.
** *
My phone buzzed. Reaching out of bed, I slapped around until I found it. I hadn’t missed waking up this way.
Morgan’s text read, “ Sasha said you’re back. Hope you’re okay. Are you free this morning ?”
“I’ll be there,” I replied.
I dragged myself to the shower. Once cleaned up, I left the bathroom—
“I fixed your plant.” Darragh stood on the other side of the door, clutching the plant I’d left to die in my windowsill. The leaves were a shade of green I’d never seen before.
“Nice. How’d you do that?”
“Water. Sunlight. A scrap of attention.”
“Sometimes the scraps add up, and plants die.” I walked around Darragh to the kitchen. Darragh hugged the plant against his chest and followed. He placed it beside him on the counter, watching me closely while I made coffee.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.
“Oh! That’s Sasha!” I covered my mouth and looked at Darragh. How could I explain him to Sasha?
Darragh read my fearful expression, and he pushed away from the counter. “I’ll be in the bathroom.”
I waited for him to leave before I opened the door. “Hey—”
“I’m so late. Mum’s gonna kill me!” Sasha shoved Watney’s carrier into my arms. Running back down the stairs, he asked, “You comin’ in today?”
“I’ll be there for nine!” I called.
“Good!” Sasha pointed at me while he ran. “You have a lot of explaining to do!”
Isn’t that the truth .
Watney ran straight to Darragh as he exited the bathroom. Darragh obliged, stooping to give him scritches. The coffee wasn’t done brewing. I leaned on the counter, waiting impatiently. Darragh continued to pet Watney, who rolled onto his back, belly displayed for pets. A question I’d meant to ask Darragh a long time ago came to mind.
“How come, on Hiraeth, the magic didn’t always work on me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when Ruatha tried to kill us in the wood, she kept you completely immobile, but I could still move. I threw dirt at her. It was her shock that saved us. And Bowyn had trouble using his magic on me too, remember? When he tried to compel me, I said no.”
“Well,” Darragh started, “you feel different.”
“What?” That wasn’t the response I expected. “Do I feel bad ?”
“Wha—no!” Darragh backtracked. “You just feel…different.” I crossed my arms and he continued. “As far as I know, you’re the only human who’s travelled from Earth to Hiraeth. Hiraethians don’t know what to do with you.” He gave Watney one last belly rub and stood. I poured coffee and slid a mug over the counter. Watney brushed Darragh’s leg and screamed.
“Okay!” Darragh whisper-shouted and picked him up. Cradling Watney, Darragh said, “Say Watney bolted for an open door, and you needed to catch him. You know he’s furry, you know roughly how much he weighs, you know how to avoid claws…but what if you picked him up, and he was slippery? He looks like a cat, and you should be able to pick him up like any other cat. But you can’t. He just slips through your fingers. There’s something about him that’s different, and you don’t really know how to compensate for it.” Darragh set Watney down and took a large gulp of scalding coffee. Unphased, he continued. “That’s what it’s like to use magic on you, on people from your world. You just don’t feel the same. It’s quite difficult.”
“You don’t seem to have a problem,” I said.
Darragh set his empty mug on the counter. “I’ve spent a lot of time on Earth. I know how you feel.”
“Like a slippery pussycat?” I blew on my coffee, sipping it.
“Yes.” He nodded solemnly.
“Noted.”
***
Before I left for work, I pulled Darragh into my bedroom.
Not for that. Calm down.
Wall-to-wall bookshelves lined the room. Kicking laundry aside, I pointed and said, “Help yourself while I’m gone.”
Childlike wonder entered Darragh’s eyes. “You have a library?”
“Well, I don’t really lend them out. But I suppose I can make an exception for you. Just don’t dog-ear my pages,” I teased. Darragh dragged his hands across the spines. He pulled books out and stacked them in his arms.
“I’m going to work.”
Unwilling to pry his eyes from the books, Darragh offered a vague wave. I’d have done the same.
On the way to work, I rehearsed my story for Sasha. Super personal family emergency. Maybe he’d be so happy to have me back, he wouldn’t ask too many questions? The door jingled as I entered Rousseau’s.
“Where have you been?” Sasha screeched. I grimaced and half-smiled at the customers scattered about the café.
“Family emergency.” I skirted Sasha and tossed my stuff in the back. He followed me so closely, I smelled his perfume.
“Bullshit,” he snapped. “You don’t have any family.”
“Rude.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I needed to help a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends either. What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” I shouted. “Nothing is going on!”
Sasha shrunk away, stunned.
“I’m sorry,” I said, regretting my outburst. “When I can say more, I promise I’ll tell you, okay?” I wrapped an apron around my waist.
“Nell,” Sasha prodded. “I come to your place, and you’re gone and there’s glass everywhere. Honestly it looked like a break-in. And with all this magic shit going around—”
“You didn’t call the cops though, right?” I asked.
Sasha gave me a stern, sanity-questioning look. “So they could nail me for robbing you? No, ma’am. I got my ass out of there.” My shoulders relaxed. Sasha rubbed my arm and said, “You’re not in any trouble, right?”
Am I?
“No. I’m not in any trouble,” I reassured.
“’kay.” Sasha calmed a bit. “I just…I worry about you.”
“I know.”
We spent the better part of the morning in silence. Sasha pouted around the shop, pissy I wouldn’t tell him where I’d been. But come the mid-morning lull, his pouting could only last so long. “Did you see what happened to that poor homeless girl?”
Something tugged at my memory. Did I? I furrowed my brows, trying to remember if I had. A quiet part of my brain supplied the name, “Kristina?”
“Yeah, her!” Sasha jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “She was attacked out back.”
My hand slipped on the frother and milk exploded everywhere. The memory of Turner shoving Kristina exploded in my mind. Grief cleaved my chest as I remembered her tiny, lifeless body laying on the ground. I rubbed my chest and caught my breath. “Do the police know what happened?”
“Nah, I bet it was one of those people though.” Sasha raised his hands and did lazy air quotes. “ People with magical abilities or whatever we’re calling them now.”
I steadied myself on the counter. “When, uh, when did that happen?”
Sasha traced his lips and thought. “Actually, you know what? Just before you left. I wanted to talk about it the next morning, but you weren’t here.” I cleaned up milk in a haze while Sasha carried on. “And you know what else is weird? I haven’t seen that bitch Turner since then either. I was looking out for him after I promised I’d take his orders, and nothing.”
I killed him.
Waves of grief and guilt coursed through me. I did my best not to cry right there behind the counter. Sasha gave me a funny look and I put on a shaky smile.
“That’s good!” I said, with far too much emphasis.
Sasha put a hand on his hip and glared. “Why are you being so weird?”
“You know what? I’m not feeling good. I’ll have to grab some drugs when I run upstairs for lunch.”
Sasha pursed his lips. “Mhm. Sure.”
***
I tossed my bag on the counter, careful to avoid the plates filled with food. I’m not sure where Darragh found food, but I didn’t complain. Lying on the couch reading, Darragh peeked around the cover of his book. “She exploded like the fourth of July.” He squinted at the page. “Is that a metaphor?”
I stopped what I was doing to look at Darragh. His curls hung in wet ringlets around his face, fresh out of the shower. “What are you reading?” He waved the cover in my direction. A romance novel even I hadn’t been able to stomach. “Uh. Yeah, it’s a metaphor.”
Please don’t ask me what it means .
“What does it mean?”
“I’m not sure. Google it and tell me.” I tossed my phone over. Darragh clicked around and paused. His cheeks turned pink, and he pulled the book up to cover his face.
“What did you discover?”
“You know what I discovered,” he grumbled.
I fiddled with a scrap of paper on the counter. “Can I ask you something?” Darragh closed the book around his thumb. “What happened to Turner’s…” I lowered my voice. “What happened to Turner’s body?”
“Nell, I told you. I took care of it.”
“And what about Kristina’s body?” I snapped. “You just…” My breath hitched, and I paused to collect myself. “You just left her in that shitty alley until the police found her?”
Darragh’s eyes widened, and he mouthed, ‘ Body ?’
“Yeah! I remember now! Why didn’t you tell me she was there?”
Darragh swung his legs over the side of the couch. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“A walk? I have to go back to work!” I shouted. “I have to go back to work and pretend like I can live with the consequences of my actions!” I jammed my knuckles beneath my eyes, hoping to stop the tears in their tracks. “A little girl is dead. And I killed a man.”
Darragh stood and said, “Nell—”
A knock sounded on the apartment door. It swung open and Sasha peeked in. “Nell, don’t worry about—”
Sasha saw Darragh and froze. Sasha looked at me. And back at Darragh. A smile spread across his face. “Nelli, I just wanted to let you know that Mum’s come in, and if you’re not feeling well , you don’t need to come back for the afternoon.”
“Sasha,” I started.
“You and I have a lot to talk about,” Sasha said. His eyes darted to Darragh and back. As he closed the door he said, “Feel better soon.”
Darragh spoke up. “He thinks we’re having sex.”
“Yeah, got it. Thanks man,” I snapped. “He thinks I’m a liar now too.”
Darragh grabbed a slice of cucumber from a plate and nibbled it. He shrugged and said, “Little lies are necessary here and there.”
***
“Excuse me,” an orderly dressed in blue scrubs pushed a cart around me in the hospital reception.
“What are we doing here?” I asked Darragh.
Darragh lowered his voice. “Showing you the consequences of your actions.” Turning to the nurse behind the desk, Darragh leaned over and smiled. “Hello—”
“One second,” the nurse, whose name tag read, ELLEN STRODE, R.N., interrupted. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Darragh. Ellen abruptly stopped typing, turned, and smiled broadly. “How can I help you, my dear?”
“Hi, my cousin came in a few nights ago. Kristina Byers. Can you tell me where she is?”
I grabbed Darragh’s arm.
She’s okay ?
Darragh smiled.
Nurse Ellen typed and frowned. “Oh yeah, the poor thing. She’s on the fourth floor, room 406. She hasn’t had anyone in yet. It’s nice you’ve come to see her.” Nurse Ellen handed us a clipboard. “Sign-in and you can head up.”
Darragh held the pen exactly like someone who’d never held a pen before. I took it and wrote my name down. In a clumsy, childlike script, Darragh tried his best to do the same.
In room 406, Kristina lay in a bed, her head wrapped in a bandage. I stood awkwardly, but Darragh was natural. He touched Kristina’s arm and whispered her name. Kristina’s eyes opened and she tensed. She didn’t recognize Darragh, though she smiled weakly.
“Sorry to wake you,” Darragh whispered and pointed at me. “Someone wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Kristina followed Darragh’s finger to me, where I stood by the door. Her eyes lit and she pushed herself up. “You saved me from that man,” she whispered. A nurse walked by the room and Kristina quieted. When the nurse had gone, Kristina asked, “Are you…are you like me?”
Darragh glanced over his shoulder, and then raised his palm. A tiny flame kindled to life. Kristina’s eyes widened and shot to me.
I smiled and sat in the chair next to the bed. “We are.”
“Thank you for helping me.” Kristina started to cry, and I did my best not to follow suit. “Most people look the other way—pretend they don’t see me.” Kristina fiddled with the corner of her blanket. “Most people would have kept walking.”
Kristina met my eyes when she said, “I’m happy you didn’t keep walking.”
***
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked Darragh on our walk home. He side-eyed my tear-stained face.
“You didn’t remember. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“I’d rather know the truth, even if it upsets me.”
Darragh scratched his nose. “Nell, I—”
I clutched Darragh’s arm and pointed. “Look!” A rotund, Bernese puppy walked by us on a leash. I watched him waddle out of sight before I said, “I’m so sorry, what were you saying?”
Darragh’s irises danced as they examined my face. He smiled and said, “Nothing.”