Chimes at Midnight

“See, the fact that you admit to wanting to do that, but didn’t actually try it? That’s why we’re here, having this conversation. I love you, Tybalt. I don’t want to leave you.”


“Then what, little fish, would you have me do?” He took a breath before raising his hand to my cheek. “In this matter, I am yours to command.”

“I need you to go find my mother,” I said, putting my hand over his and holding it against my face. “The Luidaeg offered to try, but I know you did it once before, when you weren’t sure I was really myself. I know you can. And if we don’t find a hope chest, she may be our only option.”

“You told the Luidaeg . . .”

“Yeah, well.” I allowed myself a tight smile. “If Mom tries to turn me all the way human, you’ll have your fingers around her throat before I can start screaming. She’s not stupid. She’d never have lived this long if she were stupid. So please? Will you do this for me?”

“I am . . . not comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone.”

Judging by the tightness of his tone, that was the understatement of the year. I loved him even more in that moment. What I was asking him to do was as necessary as it was unfair. The fact that he was even willing to consider it was a testimony to how much he wanted this to work—and how much he wanted to save me.

But if I gave in, if I played the damsel in distress and let him stay with me, I wouldn’t be me anymore. I couldn’t do that.

“I know,” I said. “I’m not too happy sending you away. But Danny will be with me. You know, the mountain that walks like a man. And Quentin will be there. And we’re heading for Goldengreen, which means the armies of the Undersea will be there to back me up if anything goes wrong.”

“And should something happen, I won’t be there to stop it.”

“I know. But that also means you won’t be fighting to protect me when I don’t want to be protected. We have to find a balance between what I am and what I’m supposed to be, and that means I need you to do this, Tybalt. Please. For me.”

“For you, and against my better judgment,” he said, and leaned in, and kissed me.

I didn’t pull away. There are kisses shared in passion, and kisses shared in anger. Some are sweet, and others are bitter. This one was sad, and frightened, and it tasted like tears—his and mine, although I hadn’t seen him shed any. He took his hand away from my face, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. I went willingly. There was no telling how many kisses we had left, and it would have been cruel to both of us to try to turn this one aside.

My human senses meant the taste of pennyroyal and musk was almost completely absent. In a way, that was nice, because it meant I could focus purely on the physical: his chest pressed against mine, his skin hot under my hands, and his heart, beating rapidly enough that I could feel his pulse through my entire body.

The kiss lasted less than a minute. It felt like it lasted forever, and when he pulled away, I found myself feeling strangely lost. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to tell him I had changed my mind; he couldn’t go, not now, not when there was no telling what would happen next. Maybe I would die, and I’d do it without kissing him ever again.

There is always a last kiss. Sometimes we’re just lucky enough to know when we may have had it.

“I love you,” I said. This time, I was the one who put my hand against his cheek; this time, he was the one who covered my fingers with his own. “Now, please, go find my mother. Give me another way of getting out of this.”

“I love you, too, October. There is no other reason I would allow anyone to ask something so cruelly unfair of me.”

He stepped backward, leaving my hand to hang in the air as he turned and dove into the nearest patch of shadow. I stayed frozen for a few more seconds, blinking back tears. Then I lowered my hand and walked toward the door.

I had work to do. And I didn’t know how much time I’d have to do it.





EIGHTEEN