Page 92 of Throwing Shade
Knowing I’d had mazel, destiny, was bad enough, but to know the future? There was too great a chance of it shaping my life, and not for the better. How easy would it be to become obsessed with knowing what would happen, rather than fully living?
“It was all for nothing anyway.” Emmett tossed the book on the floor. “I’m not the perfect golem and the BatKian wants me destroyed.”
“I’m not going to let that happen,” I said, squeezing his shoulder.
He jerked away. “Right.”
I let the sting wash over me. For all of the golem’s raunchy comments, he had the emotional maturity of a young child, and it wasn’t fair to expect more grown-up behavior from him, even if his actions hurt.
“Just a few more questions,” I said. “Was Jude being with a dybbuk the entirety of your answer or was there more to it?”
“That was it.”
“And then Zev said what?”
“He was with this other vamp, who said, ‘I told you.’ Ugly fucker.”
“When was this?” I said.
“Right before sunrise yesterday.”
“Can you use your magic again? If we don’t find her—”
“I won’t get my leg fixed. Yeah, I know.” He looked around. “Can I get a drink?”
This was about more than his leg, but once again, he didn’t have the capacity to confront the hard stuff.
“Later. Where’s Jude? Is there a second dybbuk that we have to find?” The faster we found her, the faster I could look her in the eyes and see if my best friend was a stranger.
Emmett made a face like he was taking a shit, then threw his hands up. “Nothing. See?”
I got up, putting books back on the shelves so I didn’t smack the intractable jerk. This entire section contained non-fiction titles. I reshelved a hardcover book about Einstein and quantum physics, deciding to change the topic and circle back.
“So what was that whole mazel business?” I said. “What did you mean that I was the first domino?”
Emmett scrubbed a hand over his face, smearing his makeup even more. “I’m not trained to decipher what I say.” Sadly, neither was I. “Can we stop with the catalog of my failures?”
“You answered Zev’s question, so you aren’t a failure.” I smoothed out a couple bent pages in a book about wealth and income disparity.
The golem rubbed the stump of his leg. “BatKian had asked me about forty others first that I couldn’t answer, so draw your own conclusions.”
“That must have been scary.”
“No shit.”
Emmett’s magic had worked with me when he was drunk and with the vampire when he was scared. Both were instances when he wasn’t stuck in his head about how badly he sucked.
“You know what?” I said. “A drink sounds good. Let me see what I can rustle up.” I left the room, catching up with Laurent in the kitchen, who was filling a bucket with water, staring hollowly at the billowing steam. His feet were bare and he’d put his shirt on inside out.
I shut off the tap, because the bucket was overflowing. “Did you… is Rupert…?”
Laurent blinked dazedly, then poured some of the water out. “The Lonestars are coming later to retrieve the body.”
I placed my hand on his sleeve. “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”
“No.” He picked up the bucket and a mop that leaned against the counter. “How’s it going with the golem?”
“Not great.” I sighed and went through my hypothesis of Emmett needing to be drunk or angry or scared to be able to tap into his divination powers.
