Dreamfever
Page 48

 Karen Marie Moning

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“Those aren’t just people fecking, Dani. Those are hard-core.”
“So?” she sneered over her shoulder. “What were you a few days ago?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“So you gonna tell me what it was like? Being Pri-ya was all poetry and roses?”
There had been moments that had felt startlingly like that. Not with the Unseelie Princes. But later with Barrons. I crammed that thought into the padlocked box in my head where I keep all those things I can’t deal with. Soon I was going to have to sink the thing in concrete to keep it shut. “I’m not telling you not to watch people having sex, although I wish you’d wait a few years. I’m telling you to make better choices. Watch the soft-core stuff, the ones that show sex as something good.”
“Mac,” she said flatly, “get a grip. The world sucks. Ain’t no good left in it.”
“There’s good everywhere. You just have to look for it.” I nearly choked on my words. I sounded just like my daddy and was surprised I still believed what I’d said, after all I’d been through. Looked like the rainbow wasn’t entirely black.
She whirled on me, cheeks flushed, eyes furious. “Really? What? Name some of those good things for me, will you? Why don’t you tell me about ‘em? I got a great idea. Let’s make a list. Let’s write down all the wonderful things in the world. ‘Cause I been looking really hard lately, and I ain’t been seeing a fecking one!” Her hands were fisted and she was shaking.
It had taken me until I was twenty-two to be carved by tragedy. How old was Dani when its razor-sharp teeth drew first blood? She’d told me her mother was killed by the Fae six years ago, which would have made her seven at the time. Had she watched it happen? Was that how long she’d been with Rowena? What had the ruthless old woman been doing to her all that time? “What happened to you, Dani?” I said softly.
“You think you have the right to just ask me that? Like I’m gonna peel myself open and let you poke around inside me? Like you can pour me out like some little teapot, ‘cause you’re dangling me by my handle?”
“I’m not dangling you by any handle, Dani.”
“You’re trying to! Trying to force me to spill my secrets! Dump ‘em all over the place so once you know ‘em you can throw me away like a piece of trash, same as the Unseelie Princes did to you! Like some stupid fecking stupid fecker that shouldn’t have even been fecking born!”
I was stunned by the intensity of her reaction, baffled by the direction our conversation had taken. “I’m not trying to pry into you, and I would never throw you away. I care about you, you prickly little pain-in-the-butt porcupine. So buck up and deal with it. I worry about what you’ll become. Enough to fight with you about it. And I’m telling you, choose better movies, eat your vegetables, floss, and treat yourself with respect, because if you don’t, nobody else will. I care!”
“You wouldn’t if you knew me!”
“I do know you.”
“Leave me alone!”
“Can’t,” I said flatly. “You and me. We’re like sisters. Now get a grip on the teen angst and let’s get moving. I need you tonight, and we’ve got a lot to do.” It had always worked whenever Daddy did it to me: made me do something, to keep my mind off wallowing in whatever emotion I felt like I was going to die from at the moment.
She stared at me, eyes narrowed, lips drawn in a snarl, and I got the impression she was on the verge of freeze-framing out. I wondered how my parents had survived me. I wondered what she was really so upset about. I wasn’t stupid. There was subtext here. I just couldn’t figure out what it was. I was about to begin tapping a foot when she finally turned around and began walking.
I followed her in silence, giving her the chance to cool off.
The fabric of her long black leather coat eventually relaxed and creased between her shoulder blades. She took a few deep breaths, then said, “Sisters forgive each other a lot, don’t they, Mac? I mean, more than most people?”
I thought of Alina and how she’d fallen for the worst villain in this epic mess, even inadvertently helped him gain power. Of how she’d waited until it was too late to call me. Recently I’d begun to realize my sister had made some hedgy decisions. Like not telling me what was going on as soon as she learned about it and trying to handle it all herself without asking for help. Strength wasn’t about being able to do everything alone. Strength was knowing when to ask for help and not being too proud to do it. Alina hadn’t called in all the reinforcements she could, and she should have. I wouldn’t make the same mistake. Still, regardless of anything she’d done or failed to do, it didn’t change how much I loved her, and it never would. Nothing could.
“Like fighting over what movies to watch,” Dani clarified, when I didn’t answer immediately.
I was about to reply when she muttered, “I thought you’d think I was cool for watching ‘em.”
I rolled my eyes. “I already think you’re cool. And, honey, sisters forgive each other everything.”
“Really, truly everything?”
“Everything.”
As we walked out of the electronics store, I caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror above the door.
It was bleak.
My Dublin no longer existed.
Smashed, broken were the brilliant neon signs that had illuminated the buildings with a kaleidoscope of colors. Long gone were the colorful, diverse people that had filled the streets with boisterous camaraderie and endless craic. Wrecked were the façades of the hundreds of pubs of Temple Bar. The quaint streetlamps were twisted pretzels of metal, and no music spilled from open windows or doors. It was silent. Too silent. All animal life was gone, down to the crickets in the soil. Not one motor hummed. There were no heat pumps kicking on and off. You don’t realize how much white noise the world makes until it suddenly stops, making it sound like prehistoric times.