“Make Robin do it. That annoying little gobshite is desperate to have a purpose, and he’d be grateful for anything to get him away from Puck. That blasted fairy turned his bow into a banana.”
I smiled despite myself. Heathcliff growled. “It’s not funny. He also transformed my favorite Scotch into sour milk, and despite all my best threats he’s yet to return it to its former, more delicious state.”
With Robin installed as Fiona’s lookout, we headed outside to catch a rideshare. As we crossed over the green toward our driver, I noticed a group of people gathered at the edge of the churchyard, their heads bent together as they whispered furtively. I glanced at Heathcliff. “Who’s that?”
“Dorothy Ingram and the members of DIABLO. I wonder what they’re planning.”
“More interruptions to the festival, no doubt.” I directed Oscar to climb in the backseat of the Uber. When the driver saw my dog, he slammed the door. “No animals in the car.”
“He’s a service animal, and you’re legally obligated to—”
“NO ANIMALS.” The driver tore off, wheels spinning.
This frustration happened often enough that I was considering forcing Morrie to get his license so we could have our own car. Most of the rideshare drivers didn’t know the laws around service animals, and they didn’t want dog hair in their cars. There were a couple of local drivers who knew me and would happily welcome Oscar on board, but with the app you couldn’t always guarantee who you got. Just another super fun example of something that should be straightforward being made more difficult for a blind person not because of their vision but because of society.
Needless to say, I was in a mood by the time we got a driver who’d accept Oscar to drop us off at Quoth’s school. As we exited the car, I heard the excited whinny of another dog. Silhouetted against the headlights of a taxi was a woman with a guide dog of her own. I rushed over to catch her.
“Marjorie, hi. It’s Allan’s friend, Mina Wilde, and my new guide dog, Oscar.”
“Oscar? Oh, Mina, I’m so happy you have your dog now.” We spent a couple of minutes introducing the dogs and letting them sniff each other, then I asked Marjorie if she could point me toward the studio where Quoth was working.
Her face twisted in concern. “Allan’s not here. I’ve only just left my office and I checked the studios before I locked up.”
“Does he have his own key? He’s been working late in the studio a lot recently, pulling all-nighters to prepare for the exhibition.”
She shook her head. “That’s not possible. We don’t give out keys to students, and we don’t allow them in the studios after 8PM – it’s a health and safety thing. He might have rented a private studio space – some of the students do that if they need a big area to work on their pieces after hours.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.” I watched her hop into her taxi and drive off, my heart thundering in my chest. Quoth had told me he’d been in the art studio every night, but he wasn’t here. He’dneverbeen here.
What is Quoth doing?
Chapter Seventeen
Quoth didn’t come home again that night. I sent him several texts, asking him to wake me up when he got home so we could talk. But I didn’t sleep. Part of it was I didn’t want to have another of Dracula’s dreams, but the Count’s presence pressed in on me from all sides anyway, reminding me that on the other side of the street lurked a man who could hurt anyone I loved.
But as I watched the glow-in-the-dark stars and birds on Quoth’s ceiling, letting the lights dance colored squiggles across my vision, I drove myself crazy trying to rationalize Quoth’s lies. He’d never lied to me before, notever. I didn’t even know he was capable of lying.
But he was. And he did.
And it hurt. It hurt more than a wound not made by a knife or a weapon should ever hurt. It hurt like his lie was flaying my skin. It made me doubt every beautiful moment we shared, every kiss he’d placed so reverently on my lips, every sad and lovely word he’d spoken to me.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn’t even care where he was – it wasn’t important anymore. I thought we had something special. I thought we were birds of a feather. But if he could lie to me about this, then I…I didn’t know what to believe.
When Quoth finally fluttered through the window, the first dappled rays of sunlight danced through the trees. I bolted upright, my fists curled with suppressed emotion. “Where were you?”
He hopped onto the bed and transformed into his human form. I flicked the light on – I wanted to see his face when I confronted him. He gazed up at me through a curtain of shimmering hair. His fire-ringed eyes appeared sunken, bloodshot. He needed sleep.
Well, tough. I needed answers.
Quoth went to take my hand, but I jerked away. “I went to the school to see you tonight, but it was locked up. I spoke to Marjorie in the parking lot. She said you haven’t been working late at school. They don’t allow students on campus after 8PM. So where have you been going all these nights?”
Quoth’s eyes fluttered closed. He pressed his lips together, and his features sank into an expression of such sadness and regret that I almost melted right there. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m beyond sorry. I want an explanation. Wherewereyou? Is it another girl? Another…family? You wouldn’t have lied like this unless…” I didn’t realize until the words were out of my mouth how much I feared them.
He shook his head. “No, no, I would never cheat on you, not with a human or a bird. Professor Sang rented a place so I could put in the extra hours to get the pieces finished. I didn’t tell you because…I was embarrassed that I let him pay for it, I guess. I knew you’d think it was weird and I didn’t want to ask you for money for it when the shop was struggling—”
“Youshouldhave asked. We would have found a way. Not to mention dangerous, saying you’re at school when you’re actually somewhere else. What if tonight was an emergency and I tried to find you but you weren’t there? And itisweird, this professor paying for your studio space like that. If you needed a place to work after hours, why couldn’t you do it at home? At least then I’d know where you were and I wouldn’t worry about you.”
