An Artificial Night

“Right again.”


“Okay.” He put his thumb back into his mouth. The discussion was finished: as long as May knew she wasn’t his aunt, he didn’t care whose face she wore. Sometimes I envy kids for the way they dismiss the things that don’t matter. They still get bogged down in details, but at least they’re different details.

Keeping my voice low, I said, “Jessica, this is my cousin May. She’s here to give us a ride home.” I don’t normally lie to kids, but somehow, I didn’t think telling them their rescuer was doomed to die soon was exactly going to help. “You want to go home, don’t you?” Jessica sniffled and nodded, clutching me more tightly. “That’s my good girl.”

The Luidaeg was leaning in the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed over her breasts. She was clearly doing a slow burn, almost radiating anger.

Letting go of Jessica, I straightened, saying, “Luidaeg?”

“Yes?”

“I need to get the kids home. But my car . . .”

“You want me to cast an expansion spell on that junk heap you insist on pretending is a car? Blood and thorn, Toby, when you decide to go into debt, you don’t screw around.” She snapped her fingers. “It’s done, and yes, it comes with a don’t-look-here to keep your idiotic ass out of sight. Now get the hell out.”

“Luidaeg . . .” I wanted to thank her, but it wasn’t allowed. Why aren’t things ever simple?

She smiled bitterly. “Just get out. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I’ll get everyone out of here,” said May with sudden, aggressive cheerfulness. Maybe she was smarter than I thought. She started gathering children out of the corners, herding them toward the door.

“Raj, Quentin, get Katie and Helen and go with May,” I said, keeping my eyes on the Luidaeg. They didn’t argue. Raj slid back to human form, and the kitchen was filled with scuffling, hisses, and whines for several minutes as they led the assembled children and cat-form Cait Sidhe into the hall. Spike got a running start, leaping first to the counter and then into my arms. I clutched it, glad for the contact. Spike hadn’t changed. I needed that.

When the kitchen was empty I said, “Luidaeg, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” The color bled out of her eyes as she looked at me, leaving them white and angry. The lines of her face had sharpened, becoming alien. She was losing her grip on her human shape, and that was a little scary. What had I said that upset her that much? “Why would you think anything was wrong, October Daye, daughter of Amandine? I swore I’d see you dead. It just looks like I was right.”

Oh, oak and ash, I hadn’t warned her about May. “Luidaeg, I—”

“Is that why you were willing to come to me? Because you already expected to die?” Her voice was rising. “I never took you for a coward. Now get out of my house.”

“Luidaeg—”

“Get out!” Her hands were curling into claws. I’m not stupid. I didn’t want to leave while the Luidaeg was mad at me—dangerous though she can be, I consider her a friend—but I also didn’t want her to kill me for pushing my luck. Keeping Spike clutched against my chest, I turned and ran into the hall, then out the door.

The sunlight was an almost physical shock. I stumbled, and the doorknob hit me in the side as the door slammed behind me. Spike jumped out of my arms, running to where it wouldn’t be hit if I fell. Then an arm slid under mine and Raj was there, holding me up.

“Clumsy half-blood,” he said, scornfully.

I smiled, hoping it would hide my panic. “Just pissing off the Luidaeg. No big.”