“Ash, don’t–” Gabe began to say with a frown, but Tess saw her moment and seized it.
“We live under a spell, a curse, I don’t know, but our grandmother put it on us when she died.”
“Tess, don’t,” I said, for the first time this evening, feeling a very real wave of fear begin to build.
“So?” Gabe said.
“The spell, it do
oms Ash to meet characters from whatever book or movie I look at the previous day.”
“Tess, for the love of God! I’ll–” I said.
“So, what?” Gabe looked at me, then Tess, then back again. “Is that what you think I am? Some . . . character? From a book?”
“I was reading the Wild Ryder series the night before you turned up at the shop, figured Ash always had a thing for guys who are a bit rough around the edges. She didn’t like Prince Charming or King Arthur, so. . . .”
“So I’m . . . some Sons of Anarchy Mills and Boons knockoff?”
“Ah . . . Master Gabriel, Mistress Ash—” Natty said.
“Shut up, Natty!”
“I’d love to, seriously. Right now I’m thinking the trip back to town can’t be as bad as this, even if it is night and there’s marauding bands of feral monkeys, but as much as it pains me to point this out, our hearing is obviously much better than yours is,” Natty replied, arms crossed over his chest.
“So?”
“Well, what you think is some private little spat is probably not as private as you think.”
That stopped the three of us cold. Tess, Gabe and I looked around the room. Not sure why, the door was closed; we had no idea who lingered outside in the hallway.
“You have your sister, we can leave tonight and be back in the city, to the portal in about three days,” Natty said.
“We should make a break while we can,” Flea said. “Gabe’s got the bikes in the barn below and a bag full of guns—”
Tess’s eyes came to rest on mine. I saw the flat, empty gaze there and knew that somehow, we had made a very big mistake. “This is a rescue operation, isn’t it?”
“Tess, we just—”
“You came here, assuming that I would screw up, assuming I’d make some huge mistake and need to be bailed out,” Tess’s voice was completely devoid of emotion. She swallowed and then drew herself up tall. “Whatever I’ve done, whatever the prince intends, this is my problem, mine to solve. I wish you’d never come here. I wish you didn’t feel the need to try and take over my life all the time and I especially wish you weren’t my sister. You should leave.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” I said, forcing the words out as tears threatened to choke me. In some ways I knew she was right, but hearing her say this, dressed in some kind of Pride and Prejudice number, surrounded by sentient wolves? It was all just a bit too much.
“Stay, don’t stay, I’m done with this,” she said. “This isn’t about you, Ash, you don’t get to be the white knight here, OK, and if you try, I’ll take you down.”
“What? What are you going to—?”
“I’m done talking. Keep out of my way, or else.”
She flounced off; something made much more effective by the elaborate gown. I had no idea a dress could make that much of a difference. I stood there, looking down at the contrast between the snow-white carpeting and my ratty Converse when Gabe said, “We need to talk.”
I was dragged inside our room and into the adjoining bathroom, though from what Natty was saying, it would make little difference. “So, when were you going to tell me?”
“Gabe, do we have to do this now?”
“Yeah, we do. My girlfriend lies to me about the inter-dimensional doorway in her shop and her trade in selling magical supplies to the galaxy and then I find out she thinks I’m some sort of curse?”
“You’re not a curse–”