Mother’s tone was sharp. “We do not negotiate with fairies!”
Bitterroot grinned. “And yet here we are.” Then, before anyone could call him more crude names, he slapped his hands together and addressed Nero. “Hurry up and choose. The authorities will be here soon, and I wish to be gone by then.”
“Choose?” Nero frowned at the fae prince. “Choose who pays my debt? It’s me—”
“No,” Bitterroot said with a heavy sigh. “Choose which timeline you wish to exist in.”
This time it was Pauly who asked the obvious question. “Come again?”
“Did you think time travel was easy? You have created two timelines that exist simultaneously. In one timeline, your pack dies, you recruit Josh and have many nights of sweet passion. In this timeline, you kill the demon and they survive. You may choose to be in this timeline with them.” He gestured to the pack. “Or you can be in the one where Josh plays with your diddle all the ding-dong day.” He didn’t even look at Josh as his face hardened. “You cannot be in both. So choose.”
“Wait!” Josh gasped. “You can’t mean that both timelines exist. I thought I’d be erased. I thought….”
“Is it my fault that you never studied string theory? Yes, both timelines exist in parallel dimensions.”
Well, hell. Josh grimaced as he played through scenarios in his head. He still would have done the exact same thing, but it would have been nice to know his options. Meanwhile, Bitterroot was still talking, his voice as pompous as it was condescending.
“What will you pick, Nero? Your pack, which you have worked so hard to save? Or your boyfriend?”
Josh shook his head. “We’re not—”
“The hell we aren’t,” Nero growled.
“Goddammit!” Mother abruptly interrupted. “You went and fell in love in a timeline where we don’t exist. We didn’t get to see it!” She sounded like that was the most horrible part of it all. The others murmured their agreement. But there were also a few sly smiles, and Cream gave Josh a surreptitious thumbs-up.
Meanwhile, Nero was staring at his team with his heart in his eyes. The agony in him was palpable—or maybe Josh was feeling his own—so he cut in with the obvious answer. It would hurt too much to hear Nero say it aloud.
“He picks them,” Josh said. Hadn’t Nero said that this very morning? That they were first. That theycame first. “I’m going to be off in Fairyland, so stay with them. There’s no point in us both being miserable.”
Bitterroot sniffed audibly. “Some people do enjoy being in my employ.”
Mother snorted. “Only the masochists and the mentally ill.”
“I take exception to that,” Bitterroot countered.
“I’m sure you do,” she agreed.
And that was a whole lot of banter that Josh knew indicated ahistorybetween these two. Unfortunately he had no time to delve into that, especially as Nero grabbed Mother’s hand.
“You were always my favorite,” he said, interrupting what was probably another witty comeback. And then he looked at the others in turn. “Just like you. And you. And you.”
“Aw, fuck,” Pauly said. “He really is in love.”
“You’re alive,” Nero continued, “and that’s all I ever wanted. Even if it’s in a different parallel dimension from me.”
“Shit,” Coffee murmured.
“It’s been an honor and a privilege. I—” His words choked off as he stared at his team. Then he squared his shoulders and turned to Bitterroot. “I pick Josh’s timeline.”
It took a moment for Josh to understand what was happening, and even longer for the reality to penetrate. There were two timelines, and Nero had picked the one with Josh in it. Not his pack, not the dead demon, but the one where his pack died and Josh came in to save the day. “What?” he gasped. “No!” He took an abrupt step forward. “Don’t be stupid. I’ll be in Fairyland, and your pack means everything to you. You said so.”
Nero turned to him with a shrug. “Turns out you mean more.”
“But I’ll be inFairyland.”
“What if I’m with you?” He eyed Bitterroot. “What do you think? Two of us is better than one. We make a good team. We’ll both serve the sentence at half the time.”
“No!” Josh said. Well, that’s what he tried to say, but his throat had closed down. Nero had chosen him over his pack, and the magnitude of that cut off every sound, every breath, and every thought except gratitude.
