Chapter seventeen
showman or scoundrel?
I finished in the bathroom and scanned the apartment for Darragh.
“Darragh?”
“I’m in here,” he called from my bedroom. I found Darragh, examining three dresses he’d laid on my bed. If it were anyone but him who rummaged through my closet, I might be annoyed.
“Looking for something to wear?” I asked.
“I already know what I’m wearing. I’m trying to decide which of these matches.”
“Where are we going?”
“I wanted tonight to be a surprise but, I think we’ve had enough stress today.” Without looking at me, Darragh handed over two tickets. I flipped them over— Alexander Hamilton : A musical about the life of Alexander Hamilton .
“How?!” I gripped Darragh’s arm. “How did you get these?!”
“Don’t ask.” He pointed to a black dress. “That one. ”
“What are you gonna wear?” I looked around the room.
“You’ll see.” Darragh left, but then he peeked back in. “We’re leaving at seven.”
With my hair curled and make-up done, I slid into the dress Darragh had selected. I picked out a pair of black heels from the bottom of my closet. Though rattier than I’d have liked—scuffed from years of wear—they were the only pair I had. They’d have to do. I bent over and adjusted my bra before heading to the living room.
“I’m good to go.”
Darragh stood to greet me, and my breath caught. He wore a well-fitted, black suit. He’d pulled his hair behind his ears and tied it in a tidy knot at the nape of his neck. I shook my head and tried my best to stop staring.
“Do I look okay?” I asked.
Darragh didn’t answer. He closed his mouth and blinked. “Sorry—what did you say?”
I smiled. “I asked if I looked okay.”
Darragh’s gaze travelled down my body and back up, where it rested on my lips. “Yes,” he murmured. Desire flickered on Darragh’s face, a hungry, insatiable thing. When his eyes met mine, I didn’t shy away. To my surprise, I thought that if an opportunity presented itself, I might forget the musical altogether…
Darragh cleared his throat and pointed to the door. “We should go.”
***
Alexander Hamilton posters dangled from the antique lampposts that lined the dimly lit road. Marlowe’s face smiled down on us, beckoning me to the theatre. “I can’t believe I get to see James. Sterling . Marlowe in person.” My steps were quick, laced with excitement. It was Darragh’s turn to keep up with me .
“I’ve heard he’s quite the showman,” Darragh grumbled.
“He’s so handsome,” I swooned. “Hold on a sec.” I took a picture of the theatre marquee ahead—careful to get the poster of Marlowe in the shot.
Darragh tried and failed to conceal his disgust. “He’s twice your age.”
I shrugged unapologetically. “Wait.” I grabbed Darragh’s wrist. “You’re going to wait until the end, right?”
Darragh glanced at my hand, wrapped around his wrist. “Hm?”
“You’re going to let him finish the show, right?”
Darragh pulled away and said, “We’ll see.” He eased through a group of people, who’d stopped to pose with a poster of Marlowe. I shoved through the people, several of whom no longer admired Marlowe; their eyes trailed Darragh instead.
“Darragh. I literally do not care what this man did. I need to see the show.”
Darragh nodded politely at a group of women and whispered, “He fathered countless children into a world where their only prospect is loneliness and death.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I nodded. “After the show.”
“I have to go back to Hiraeth tonight. This is my only shot.”
I stopped like I’d hit an invisible wall. “You’re going back tonight ?”
Darragh nodded once, sharply.
“Why?”
“I have somewhere I need to be.”
“Where?”
“What concern is it to you?” Darragh asked. “You’re back on Earth, where you wanted to be.” Darragh continued walking. “You knew I only lingered to get Marlowe. I can’t stay.”
“I know. I just… I wish you told me sooner.” My excitement dulled. I stared at the pavement while I wa lked.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t.
***
We took our seats near the fire exit. Uninterested in chatting with Darragh, I flipped through the program. Marlowe’s headshot was first in the list of cast members, his dark hair cropped short. Marlowe’s charming smile was arresting, and…familiar? I’d never noticed it before. The warmth of his eyes… The theatre plunged into darkness. The curtain swept away, and the music that I knew note for note and word for word washed over the theatre.
The crowd drew a collective breath when Marlowe took the stage as Alexander Hamilton. Cheers and hoots erupted from theatregoers when he sang his first line. The more I saw Marlowe move and speak, the more I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that I recognized him. I told myself it was all the movies I’d seen, but deep down, I knew that wasn’t right. I pushed the thought from my mind, determined to enjoy every moment.
***
The curtains fell for intermission, and I excused myself to use the bathroom. Returning to a sour looking Darragh, I asked, “Do you like it so far?”
“Yes. He’s quite the talented fiend.”
“He’s so good.” I fanned myself with the program. “He looks great, and you know, I think he has the best voice I’ve ever heard in person.”
“It’ll be a shame if I have to kill him.”
“Wha—”
The curtains drew for the second half of the show.
***
I wiped away a steady stream of tears and leapt to my feet. Sniffling, I clapped as the performers bowed. Marlowe left the stage, and the final curtain fell. “Wow,” I said. I turned to Darragh and found his seat was empty. All around me, people stood and shuffled out, but he wasn’t one of them. Dread pitted my stomach. I followed the crowd, all the while looking for Darragh. My shoulders relaxed when I spotted him leaning on a pillar in the lobby. Arms crossed over his chest, Darragh wore such a foul look, I wondered if I might slip out unnoticed with the crowd.
But then he saw me and perked up.
Damn .
I joined Darragh. The front of his shirt was untucked, and his tie askew.
“What happened?”
Darragh’s hair was no longer tied at the nape of his neck. Loose strands hung wildly around his face. “Come with me,” he growled.
Oh no .
“What did you do?”
We approached a door that read private , Darragh looked over his shoulder and ushered me through. We hurried down a hallway and paused before a door labelled, Marlowe .
“Avoid his gaze. If you must meet his eyes, do not linger.” Darragh looked both ways before we snuck inside.
“Oh no.” In the middle of the room, thoroughly tied to a chair, sat Marlowe. Just as disheveled as Darragh, strands of hair jutted from Marlowe’s founding father pony. He still wore his Alexander Hamilton costume, with an additional gag shoved in his mouth. I gestured to the bonds. “I see you did it the old-fashioned way.”
“The last time I used magic to bind him, he weaseled out of it.” Darragh stood before Marlowe. “Seerinth Martell, alias James Sterling Marlowe, once again, you have violated Hiraeth’s cloud-walking law, and you’ve demonstrated a refusal to return. I’ve been given the order to bring you back, dead or alive.”
Marlowe’s unamused eyes stared back at Darragh.
Darragh removed the gag.
Marlowe allowed for a pregnant pause before he said, “You know it’s pronounced Sir-inth , actually.” He squinted and smirked. “Sir, for short.”
Darragh gritted his teeth and leaned in. “Will you go willingly? Or do you choose the alternative?” Marlowe rolled his eyes and Darragh continued. “Please. Choose the alternative.”
Marlowe threw his head back and cried, “Why can’t you see what I’m trying to do here? Why can’t you see the benefit of uniting our worlds? Their world and ours, science and magic!”
“Magic doesn’t belong here!” Darragh snapped. “Your children, your line. Innocent people are dying.”
A flame travelled around Darragh’s hand.
Marlowe shook his head. “You kill wantonly and condemn me, when my only crime is creating life!”
“You create life and can’t be bothered to take any responsibility for it!” Darragh shouted.
Marlowe stuck up his nose and looked away. “You know you prefer it here too.” Whether that was true, Darragh didn’t waver. Marlowe continued. “If I can’t stay here”—his eyes flicked toward me, then back to Darragh—“then you can’t either.” Marlowe stared at Darragh, waiting for him to say something he might argue with. Darragh didn’t oblige. “Surely you can see the benefit of uniting our worlds!”
Darragh slammed his hands on either side of the chair. Both Marlowe and I flinched. “Will it be death, then?”
“They worship me here. Did you see that crowd? That was magic.” Marlowe stuck out his chin. “I’m not going back.” I nearly chuckled. The way Marlowe argued with Darragh reminded me of—
Hold on. I scrutinized Marlowe’s thick black hair and brows. Dark chocolatey eyes…
Oh.
Oh no.
“An unfortunate choice, but death it is,” Darragh snarled. The flame in his hand pulsed brighter.
“Wait!” I shouted.
“What?” Darragh rounded on me.
“Take him back.” I eased between Darragh and Marlowe. “For Bowyn.”
Surprise flitted over Darragh’s face before he shouted, “Bowyn wants him dead more than I do!”
“No one wants this.” I rubbed Darragh’s arms. “No one wants their father tied down and executed.”
Behind me, Marlowe spoke up. “She’s right, you know.” I gave him a curt look over my shoulder.
“Please.” My eyes searched Darragh’s face, begging him to change his mind. “Just take him back.”
Darragh opened his mouth to disagree—a knock sounded on the door. A feminine voice called, “Jamie? Are you in there? Are you ready for dinner?”
Darragh pushed me aside and put his face in front of Marlowe’s. “Tell whoever that is to leave.” Marlowe simply stuck up his nose and looked away. Darragh slammed his hands on the arms of the chair. “Diva!” Darragh cleared his throat, and in a voice that imitated Marlowe he said, “I’m not quite ready yet…darling?”
“I’m coming in,” the voice called. A key entered the lock and Darragh pounced on the door.
“Excuse me, my love,” Marlowe whispered. Without thinking, I glanced at him. Marlowe had the same dark eyes as Bowyn. Fixed on me now, an intoxicating warmth flooded my body. It reminded me of the day I’d met Bowyn…but Marlowe’s power was euphoric . Next to Marlowe, Bowyn was a clumsy little boy. My sore feet and anxious tummy forgotten, happiness and pleasure swept through my chest.
I was weightless, and I wanted more.
Darragh sounded far away and unimportant while shouting for the unknown person to meet him later. Marlowe and I were someplace else, somewhere wonderful. I couldn’t resist as Marlowe compelled me to kneel before him.
Why was he tied up? I loosened the knots.
“Nell?! What are you—” Darragh shouted just as Marlowe’s warm, brawny arms wrapped around me. Cold metal pressed against my throat. Across the room, Darragh looked frantic.
So what?
No longer interested in Darragh, I could only think about Marlowe’s arms. “You’re going to help me get out of here, my love,” Marlowe whispered. “You’d die for me, right?”
I nodded drunkenly. “Anything for you.”
“Move away from the door!” Marlowe shouted. Darragh loomed, unmoving. “Move, or I kill her, and you can watch her bleed to death.”
Kill me?
No, Marlowe wouldn’t do that. He loved me, and I loved him.
Darragh actually opened the door for Marlowe. In a low voice, Darragh murmured, “If you so much as scratch her, I will bring you to the brink of death and keep you there, alive and suffering, for as long as I live.”
“Leave me be, and neither of us will have to hurt anyone.” Marlowe pushed me into the hall. He shoved through a side door labelled EXIT and ran. Like a puppy, I plodded after him. We rounded the side of a building and Marlowe spun me to face him. I recoiled, suddenly sober.
“Where’s Darragh?” I wriggled, but Marlowe held fast.
“I’m sure he’ll be right behind you.” Marlowe peered around the corner. “I’m going to do you a great favour, my love.”
“What are you gonna—”
That now-familiar warmth cascaded over me. Marlowe took off, and I trailed him. The lamplight lit our way behind the theatre, where the balconies overlooked the lake. Marlowe left the safety of the light and headed toward the dark water. Pausing at the edge, he pulled an intricate, gilded mirror from his jacket. Marlowe admired his reflection, then reached for me.
“Come, my love.”
My heart fluttered as I took Marlowe’s hand. He stepped into the water, and I stepped in after him. My heel stuck in the mud, and I cried out, unable to follow. Marlowe waded back, he lifted me and carried me like a bride into the lake.
I murmured, “You’re so strong,” and twirled his low pony between my fingers.
Marlowe lowered me into the water and said, “Take a deep breath.”
I hate the water, yet I did nothing to resist as Marlowe eased my head under. In my mind, Marlowe’s voice whispered, “You’re quite beautiful, love.” With one hand, he held the gilded mirror in front of me. “Gaze upon your reflection.” A quick flash of silver glinted in Marlowe’s eyes. Slowly, my infatuation ebbed.
I couldn’t breathe.
Marlowe held me down as I struggled to escape. I hammered his arm, but he didn’t budge. My lungs screamed for air—water splashed and swirled as I kicked Marlowe’s legs. What could I do?! My oxygen starved brain didn’t have any answers. My chest was fire, and my lungs were going to explode. Darkness seeped into my vision as Marlowe’s voice shouted, “Look!” He forced the mirror closer.
I saw my panic reflected in the glass.
I was going to die.