Living with the Dead
Page 106

"Like yours?"
"I'd like the chance to make my case, Hope." He handed Hope a card with a phone number. "A pressure-free pitch.
What you're doing for the council is great, but I think you can do more." His eyes met hers. "I think you might need to do more."
 
Karl and Hope stood on their hotel room balcony. She leaned against the railing, watching the line of cars below, a parade of lights slow-marching to the beat of overamped music and horn blasts. Two motorcycles weaved through the traffic, leaving glowing trails like lightning bugs.
"I have a decision to make, Karl. A tough one."
"I know."
"I'm not sure that the council is where I belong anymore."
"I know."
Hope crossed her arms, still leaning against the railing, face averted, fists balled where he couldn't see them.
"Karl... ?"
"Hmm?"
"About us..."
She felt him tense, a jolt of chaos escaping before he reined it in.
She turned around. "Karl, I need..." Her throat closed there, refusing to let the next words out, only letting her reverse and repeat. "I need... I need..."
He took a slow step toward her, struggling to keep those chaos vibes in check, hands lifting as if he wanted to stop whatever she was going to say. A foot from her, he halted, hands going into his pockets.
"Hope... whatever..." A surge of chaos, then he blurted, "We'll work it out."
"I-I hope so."
A rush of breath. "All right then. Tell me what you need."
"You." Hope's voice was barely audible even in the silence. "I need you. Too much."
 
He put his arms out and she moved into them, his hands going to her back, her cheek against his chest, and that was easier, so much easier, resting there, listening to his heart, where she could feel his response but didn't have to see it.
Cowardly, maybe. But it was the only way she'd get through this.
"I need to go back to the council and explain what happened. Then I need to make some hard decisions and..." A deep breath. "You can't fix this for me, Karl. And if you're here, you'll want to. I know you try not to, but you do, and I let you, and I don't think either of us is happy about it."
He went quiet and she braced for him to argue, to say he'd give her space, and she knew he'd try, maybe succeed, but she wouldn't. Even if she managed not to ask his advice, she'd take her decisions to him, watch his face and monitor his chaos vibes. If they didn't support her choice, she'd change it.
She trusted Karl more than she trusted herself. That had to change. Time to grow up. But it was one thing to hint she needed time alone. Another to insist. She didn't think she could do that.
"There's a job in Australia," he said finally. "I wasn't going to do it, because it would take more than my usual two weeks and I certainly don't need the money, but..."
She pulled back to look at him. "How long are we talking?"
"Six weeks at least. Probably closer to two months."
"Two months?"
"If you need more – "
"No, I was just thinking... two months. That's... long. But, yes. I might not like it..."
"But you need it." He put his hands on her hips and turned her around, backing to rest against the railing. "I can't stop wanting to help, and by 'help,' I really mean guide, and by 'guide' I mean protect. That has nothing to do with you and whether you can take care of yourself. It's about me and what I want, which is to make life easier for you, because I know it isn't easy and it's only getting harder, and I'm scrambling madly to smooth those rough edges before you get hurt."
"I'm going to get hurt, Karl."
His hands tightened on her hips, as if the very idea was a threat to fight and defeat. After a moment, he said, "I know."
"I need to know I'll be okay, Karl. That I can do this on my own. That as much as I appreciate your help, I don't need it."
They were quiet for a minute.
"Two months..." she whispered.
"And then I'll be back. You know that."
"I think that's part of it. Yes, I know you'll be back, and yet..."
"You don't quite trust it. You can't help thinking that I'll meet some glamorous Aussie at the opera house, seduce her for her jewels and decide this 'life mate' business isn't what I want after all." He looked down at her. "I know we don't discuss my past and I'm glad of it. But my past means I know exactly what else is out there, what I'm 'missing,' and I don't miss it at all."
"But don't you... get tired of it? My endless angst, my issues..."
"And don't you get tired of mine? Overly protective. Overly territorial. Ambivalent about the Pack. And forget the werewolf issues – I'm a jewel thief. I have enough money, so why don't I settle down, get a nice office job so you don't have to lie to your friends and family – "
Hope cut him off with a kiss. "I understood from the start that's what you are, what you need to be. I bought the whole package."
"As did I." He shifted her aside. "Wait here."
He went inside. A minute later, he returned.
"Put out your hand."
She smiled. "Do I have to close my eyes?"
"Of course."
She did. Something small and cold dropped into her palm. She opened her eyes to see what looked like a figure-eight charm. When she held it by the ring, though, the eight lay on its side. The symbol for infinity.
"I considered a ring, but feared that might be pushing my luck. A more abstractly symbolic gesture seemed appropriate. I'd have hung it on your charm bracelet, but I don't know where you've put it."
"Some thief you are."
"I could take a look..."
She caught his sleeve, closed her hand around the charm and lifted her arms to his neck.
 
He caught her wrist. "There's an inscription."
She found it. Three words, repeated on the front and back. No matter what.
"Yes," Karl said. "Quite possibly the least poetic inscription ever written."
"No it's..." She clasped the charm. "It's perfect."