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.“Who sent you?”“No one.Nobody.Well, Terric.”“Fuck him.Did he tell you to take me back to him? Like a dog to beg for Bartholomew’s favor?”“What? No.He was worried—”“Turn around and leave, Allie.And when you and Terric and Bartholomew all get together to decide just how to put me down, tell them I will be more than happy to show them just how good of a Death magic user I really am.”Okay, something about this conversation had gone terribly wrong.Between the head wound and the emotional shock of knowing Maeve had been Closed, Victor had been Closed, Violet was in danger, and Davy and Shame might both be dying, I just could not track why Shame was so angry at me.He thinks you’re working for Bartholomew, Dad said, being helpful again.He thinks you’re here to haul him in to Bartholomew.Which probably means he is not on speaking terms with Bartholomew, or that he is not doing what Bartholomew wants him to be doing.“Shame, listen.I don’t give a damn what Bartholomew wants.I don’t think I like him and I’m damn sure I don’t like how he’s running the Authority right now.I came here to see if you’re okay, to see if your mom’s okay.And to get a bandage for my head.”I walked over to the nearest chair and sat down because my legs were starting to shake.Yes, my back was toward the door, but right now I wasn’t going to be much good in a fight if a fight came through that door.Right now I needed an aspirin.Or maybe just a nice skip down Unconsciousness Lane.Shame walked out of the shadows and into the room.Boy was too damn thin.The black peacoat Terric had loaned him looked too big on him, and his cheekbones cut a hard line, his cheeks hollowed into shadows.His eyes were green, rimmed by black.He moved like he wasn’t in pain—I couldn’t tell whether that was true—but even that small acknowledgment of health made me feel better.“What did you do to your head?” he asked.“I was Hounding a Veiled and I passed out and hit my head on the sidewalk.” I felt like I’d said that story so many times that the reality of that statement didn’t even bother me anymore.“That’s not like you.” He had stopped across the table, and rested his hands, in black fingerless gloves, on top of the chair back.He wasn’t coming closer to me.He wasn’t sitting down.Shame was being cautious.Distrustful.Well, he was always those things.He was just being more so than usual.“Magic isn’t working right for me, Shame,” I said.“Every time I use it, I get sick.Or pass out.”He studied me a second.“Have you seen Bartholomew?”“Just that once when he had Melissa work those Truth spells.Well, and today in the meeting where he reassigned the Authority Voice positions.”“Did he now? How efficient of him.” Shame smiled.I’d never see so much hatred.I suddenly wondered if maybe I should be doing a little judicious mistrusting myself.Shame was not acting like Shame.“Do tell,” he said sweetly.“Sit down,” I said.“I’m tired of looking up at you.The lights are killing me.”“Did you really hit your head?”I held up my bloody hand.“Yes.”“For Christ’s sake, Allie, why didn’t you say you were bleeding?”“Oh, I don’t know.Maybe because I hit my head?”That got a tight smile out of him.“You take any meds?”“No.Jack gave me this.” I put the bloody cloth on the table.“I swear, if this room doesn’t stop spinning, I’m going to puke.”I pressed my right hand—then thought better of it since it was hot and painful and pressed my left hand against my forehead.At least my left hand was cool.I shifted so that my fingers were over my eyes.And just sat there for a minute, eyes closed, no magic to see, no spinning room to see, no dying angry Shame to see.“Here, love,” Shame said from right next to me.“A drink will do you good.”“Can’t.”“It’s water.”I opened my eyes, squinted against the light.Shame sat in the chair next to me.I hadn’t even heard him move.Had I fallen asleep? “I don’t remember you moving,” I said.“You hit your head.Mum’s on the way.I was being a dick.Now you’re all caught up.Here’s the water.Here’s the pain pills.Shut up and take both.”I took the water, sipped.Cool, clean.I felt like I hadn’t drunk anything in days.Shame dropped the pain pills, two, in my hand.I did what I always did when I was hurting and someone gave me medicine.I took a good hard look at it.“Codeine,” Shame said.“I thought about giving you the ones Dr.Fisher usually prescribes for magical injuries, but you hit your head—even the most unmag-ical idiot can do that—and you told me magic was making you sick.” He leaned back in his chair.“Those are straight up chemicals with no magical contamination.”I hadn’t even thought about that.If magic was making me sick and I took a pill laced with magic, I wasn’t going to be doing myself much good.“At least one of us is still thinking,” I mumbled.Shame just gave me a catlike stare through half-lidded eyes.I took the pills and drank the rest of the water.“Room still spinning?” he asked.“Not so much.”“That’s good.So Terric told you to come get me?”“Find you.He was worried.Angry.And he couldn’t get away.”Shame’s hands clenched into fists.It was the only outward indication that what I said bothered him.Still was looking at me with catlike boredom.“Why couldn’t Terric get away?” he asked.“Because everyone was congratulating him.” I gave Shame a steady gaze.“Bartholomew named him the Voice of Faith magic, Shame.He took Victor’s position.”The wave of anger that rolled off Shame was palpable.And with my screwed-up vision, it was also visible.A white-hot wave, like the shock ahead of a blast.The crystal, the magic coming into him, all snuffed out under the force of his anger.“He didn’t want it,” I said.“You know that.”“Do I?”I glared at him.“Yes.You do.Be angry at him for something else, Shame.Terric didn’t tell Bartholomew to give him Victor’s job.He was just as mad about it as you are.”He blinked, slowly, and the anger went down a notch, that white-hot wave thinning, though it was not gone.“So he’s celebrating now.”“No.He’s pretty much trapped by a crowd of well-wishers, and then he and the other Voices have to go to a meeting with Bartholomew.They’re probably there now.”“Who are the other Voices? Who did Wray set up in our places?” he asked.The door across the room opened, and I heard the three-step rhythm of Maeve walking in with her cane.She still hadn’t recovered from the magical battle in St.Johns during the wild magic storm.Hells, none of us had recovered since then.And some of us had gotten worse.“Allie,” Maeve said.“It’s good to see you.Hayden says you hit your head?”“Fell,” I said.Magic made Maeve look taller and filled her with a silver-green light that reminded me of frost on spring blooms.It certainly made her look stronger than her current physical condition.I wasn’t sure what to say to her now that I knew she’d been Closed.I was usually the person in the room with missing memories.It was odd to wonder how much of me she remembered, how much of the things we had done together, been through together she would know.“Mum,” Shame mumbled.“Want a seat?”“I’ve got it.” She tugged on one of the empty chairs and dragged it over next to mine.“So, I hear you’ve had a hard time of it lately,” she said [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]