In response, Quoth flicked the ledger open and pointed to his total for the weekend. Heathcliff glowered at the number. “You put the decimal point in the wrong place.”
“I didn’t. That’s how many books you can sell at Christmas time if you’re not the Grinch.” His point made, Quoth transformed into his bird form and perched on the chandelier to stare down at Heathcliff, as if daring him to do better.
While Heathcliff stared at the number in disbelief, I collected my nerve. “Guys, I have something to tell you.”
Quoth immediately fluttered down from the chandelier and settled on my shoulder.Now?He asked inside my head.
I nodded.
“What?” Heathcliff demanded.
“Don’t tell me,” Morrie added. “You’ve decided that next week we’re going to a Jane Austen dance-a-thon. I’ll go out and buy some shin-guards.”
As quickly as I could, I explained about the lights I’d been seeing, and what Dr. Clements said at my appointment. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I wanted to, but I was afraid. Talking about it makes it real. I just wanted more time with you all, having fun, solving murders and shelving books, before the lights went out.”
“You told Quoth,” Morrie said. He looked hurt.
“I did. Because I needed the comfort only he could give.” I looked at all three of them in turn. “This weekend has shown us why this crazy thing we’re doing actually seems to work. We all have strengths. Morrie’s brain works in incredible ways. Heathcliff’s loyalty and passion protect us all. Quoth’s kindness makes us want to be better people. I love you all. I do.” Tears pricked in my eyes. “I know that’s crazy, but I can’t help it. You’ve bloody wormed your way into my heart and you won’t leave.”
“We’ll never leave,” Heathcliff growled. “But you can’t keep stuff like this from us.”
“Agreed. I won’t do that anymore. I promise.” I held my hand over my heart. “If it’s any consolation, I fucking hated every minute of it.”
Heathcliff crushed me against his body. “I hate that I can’t fix this,” his voice rumbled against my ear. “Just take my eyes. I’m only wasting them reading books and labels on whisky bottles.”
“Reading books is never a waste,” I sniffed. “That’s how I fell in love with you the first time.”
“Hey, if she’s having anyone’s eyes, it’s gonna be mine,” Morrie piped up. “Yours are too dark. Blue with her complexion would bemagnificent.”
“She should have mine,” Quoth said quietly. “They work better than your human eyes.”
“I’m not taking anyone’s eyes,” I laughed, even as fresh tears spilled down my face. “But you guys might have to be my eyes sometimes, if you’re okay with that? Things could change quite quickly for me, and I don’t want any of you to be in this if you’re not comfortable with how it’s going to end.”
“Don’t say shit like that,” Heathcliff snarled. “I could sooner forget you than my own existence.” He pressed his lips to mine, crushing out my final doubts in a kiss that sizzled from my lips right through my veins.There he goes, taking my breath away again.
As if to prove his point, Heathcliff reached behind his desk and turned on a red Japanese lantern light I’d left there. “You brighten the place up,” he muttered.
Quoth nuzzled my cheek.I’m always here for you,he promised. I broke from Morrie’s kiss to press my lips against Quoth’s soft feathers.
Morrie stepped up to our little group, his arrogant smirk wavering at the edges. “Don’t make me say it again,” he muttered.
I tapped my foot.
Morrie sighed. “Fine. I love you, Mina Wilde. And I love Sir Grumplestein and that stupid bird, too. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” I wrapped them all against me, holding them close. My men made of flesh and blood and complications, better in every way than their fictional counterparts. I didn’t ever, ever want to let them go.
“Will you stay the night?” Morrie asked, his voice hopeful.
“I’d love to. You have no idea how much. But not tonight,” I sighed. Lydia was kipping on Morrie’s bed, which meant we couldn’t do anything R-rated anyway. In my pocket, my phone vibrated.Again.“There’s something I have to do.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Istepped out of the rideshare, my heart in my throat. Even though I faced down a crazed murderer earlier today, it was this meeting that made my whole body shake with fear.
In front of me stood the flat I grew up in. The broken screen hung on rusty hinges. From the depths of the neighbor’s house, someone yelled obscenities. The other neighbor’s kitchen windows were blacked out with newspaper – a sure sign that inside they were cooking drugs. Old car parts and overflowing bins littered the pavement.
It had been my home once, but it wasn’t anymore.
