“You can?” Beka looked startled, confused, and hopeful, all at once.
He took one more moment to look at her, so beautiful, so treacherous. Thank goodness he hadn’t let her get any closer to his heart.
“Yes,” he said. “I can make myself disappear out of your life.”
He turned and walked away, stomping across the bus to the door and slamming it open with a shuddering crash. He turned around long enough to see one shimmering tear glide over pale skin to hang, quivering like a frightened faun, before falling in slow motion to the half-empty bed.
“And I expect you to stay away from me, my father, and the boat,” he said. “Whatever the hell you’re really up to, I want nothing to do with it. Or you.”
He should have known better, he told himself as he got into his Jeep, feeling shocked and betrayed by the magnitude of the secrets she’d been keeping from him, just when he thought he was coming to know the real Beka. All the things he’d been sure were lies were true. And the one thing he’d been sure was true was a lie.
If life was a fairy tale, his was never going to have a happy ending.
*
BEKA GOT DRESSED methodically and folded the futon back into a couch. The air inside the bus smelled like passion and heat and exertion; her skin still held the scent of Marcus. Every time she moved she could feel the pleasant ache of unaccustomed activity between her legs and in the heaviness of her breasts. It should have been glorious. Instead, it was hell. Finally, she just gave up and sat on the floor in the kitchen, hugging her legs and letting the tears seep into her already sodden tee shirt.
She should have known better. There was a reason that Baba Yagas didn’t allow themselves to get close to Humans. But Barbara had managed to make it work, and so for one brief moment, Beka had convinced herself she could do it too. She really should have known better.
Heaving clumping steps and a deep woof heralded the return of Chewie before he slid the door open and ambled inside. She brushed away tears and tried to look normal.
“Heya, Beka,” Chewie said, “I saw the sailor’s car was gone so I figured it was safe to come back.” He gave a doggy smirk. “Did you have a nice afternoon?”
Then he took a closer look, sniffed the air, and wandered into the kitchen where she was sitting next to the surfboard she hadn’t bothered to whisk back into its storage space.
“Okay, I’m confused,” he said. “Either you’ve taken up indoor surfing, or you’ve come up with some kinky new way to have sex. Which is it?”
“Neither.” Beka sniffed. “I was proving to Marcus that I could do magic. I tried telling him about being a Baba Yaga, and he didn’t believe me, so I brought the board in, and then turned a pillow into a bird.”
Chewie peered at her red eyes. “Either the sex really sucked, or telling him you’re magical didn’t go over well.”
Beka sniffed again, another couple of errant tears escaping and plopping onto the floor like a mini rainstorm. “The sex didn’t suck.”
“Ah.” Chewie sank down next to her, his giant head resting on her feet in a gesture of furry solidarity. “So he wasn’t thrilled and excited to discover that he was living in a fairy tale.”
“Not exactly,” Beka said with a sigh. “More like pissed off and freaked out. He obviously felt like I’d been lying to him by not telling him all along.”
Chewie growled. “Well, that’s just stupid. It’s not like you can go around telling everyone you’re a powerful witch out of Russian legend.”
“I know, I know,” Beka said. “I’m not saying his reaction was fair. But maybe I should have told him before we made love and not after. Or before he told me that he was serious about me.” She scrubbed at her eyes with her hands, tired of crying, but not sure how to stop. “Was being the operative word, I’m afraid.”
“Are you serious about him?” Chewie asked, lifting his head to stare into her face.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. He told me to stay away from him. It’s over. I just need to concentrate on doing my job and get on with my life. I’m sure Kesh will be happy to console me.”
Chewie growled again, louder this time. “Stick to chocolate; it might be safer.” He perked up. “Hey, at least you finally got laid. That’s something.”
“Oh, shut up,” Beka said, but she gave a watery laugh nonetheless, and rested her head against the cabinet behind her. The weight of the dragon leaning against her was comforting; almost enough to make her forget about her burning eyes and the relentless fatigue that made her bones feel like they were filled with lead.
The sound of a brisk knock on the half-open door made her stand up so fast, her head swam, and she had to grab the counter to keep from passing out.