Page 54 of Endless Terrors
So I did. I told him all the small details that only family knew about each other. The small details no one else really cared about, yet somehow, it felt like Laurie did. How my dad was the one who’d given me my sweet tooth, and he used to keep caramel squares in his pockets. How Mom always read her books with a puckered, severe expression, even when she was reading something light and fun. Laurie listened to all of it, asking questions now and then, his expression attentive and open.
The feeling I had was reminiscent of a day I’d had with Collith once, before everything fell apart. Like the two of us were at the edge of change, and something beautiful was on the horizon, or something painful. With Collith, it had been the latter.
But this was different, I reminded myself as Laurie took plates out of the cupboard, steam rising from the pan on the stove. Whatever secrets he was keeping didn’t matter. Whatever came of this dinner didn’t matter.
In a few short hours, I’d be trading places with Damon.
Thinking about the spell dimmed my mood, and I couldn’t ignore the storm clouds hovering over us anymore. I stood near the table now, my hand resting on the back of a chair. “What is this, Laurie?” I asked finally.
It was the question I’d been wanting to ask all night.
Our food was ready—the aroma in the air was making my mouth water—and two tall candles flickered on the table, which I’d just finished setting. Walking over with two plates, Laurie set them down and pulled out the chair I was touching. “This is a ceasefire. A pause,” he answered.
“Wow, you really don’t think I’ll be coming back,” I joked, sitting at the head of the table.
Laurie settled in the chair to my left and took a sip from his wine glass. He set it back down and began to slice into his steak. Once again, he kept his focus on the task in front of him instead of looking at me.
“It’s true, I think your plan is sloppy and dangerous,” he said. His voice had tightened again. “I think magic isn’t as predictable as you’re acting like it is. And I also think none of that matters, because even if you weren’t doing this spell, you would’ve taken the Dark Prince’s deal.
“But then I think about the conversation you overheard in that revolting little motel. I have my faults, but I’m not my brother. I won’t put you in a cage … no matter how much I may want to.”
Even now, Laurie didn’t look at me. It wasn’t because he was ashamed, though. As my gaze lingered on him, it felt like a light switched on in my head.
“You’re still angry with me,” I realized. That was what I’d been picking up on since he got here, but I hadn’t recognized it because Laurie didn’t get mad. Not toward me, at least. “Why? Because of the martyr thing?”
Laurie put his silverware down. His eyes met mine, and they flashed as he said, “Yes, because of the ‘martyr thing.’ You’re giving up, Fortuna. Where’s the stunning creature I used to know? Where’s the firecracker?”
My defenses rose. I held my fork tighter; I hadn’t even touched the food yet. “You’re one to talk. You went into Creiddylad’s tomb without knowing if you’d come out,” I pointed out.
“That was different.” Laurie shook his head and started eating again.
I scoffed. “Oh, yeah? How do you figure?”
Laurie’s palm slammed down on the table with a thunderous thwack, and the entire thing shook. “Because it was me making the sacrifice!”
His voice echoed through the room. The candles quivered. I sat ramrod-straight, glaring at him. I could feel my nostrils flaring in response to the swell of power between us. The Nightmare in me, rising to the faerie in him. Logically, I knew Laurie would never hurt me. Didn’t I?
“I think about it, you know,” he murmured, probably seeing the question in my eyes. He unclenched his hand and plucked his wine glass off the table, swirling it calmly. He took a drink and went on, “I weigh the pros and cons of locking you away. You’d hate me for a while, of course, but you change your mind about people. I’ve seen it. Not to mention the fact that Nightmares have a long life expectancy, and most minds can’t hold grudges for centuries. You’d probably forgive me eventually. And I’d have plenty of time to wear you down.”
His thoughtful tone sent a breath of ice through my veins. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
Slowly, Laurie set the wine glass back down. His eyes burned into mine. “I believe that, sometimes, you mistake us for men, Fortuna. You forget what we truly are. You think like a human, and you live with their limitations.”
Now it was my turn to shake my head. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Don’t you?” he said, watching me intently.
It felt like everything went still. I was having trouble breathing again, but this time, it wasn’t because I was afraid.
“I came tonight because you love me,” Laurie said, ignoring how I physically reacted to this. He said it so casually, as though he were speaking a fact. “I wasn’t certain before, but these past few days confirmed it. Months ago, when I faced an eternity without you or my throne, I let fear dictate my choice. I’m here to clear the air, because the thought of you going to your death without knowing the truth is unbearable. And the truth is this.
“Things have changed. I’ve changed. If you survive this, I want to be with you in any capacity you’re willing to give me. I don’t need all of you, and I’m not asking for it—I just want a small piece.”
I sat there, frozen, my eyes so wide that I knew I probably looked like a deer in headlights. Was he expecting an answer right now? “What made things change?” I managed, trying to buy myself some time.
Laurie opened his mouth to reply at the same moment someone knocked on the door.
“I got it,” I said to Laurie, practically leaping up from the table. He just reached for the wine bottle.
