Rosemary and Rue

He was standing behind me.

I squawked in surprise, barely managing to stop myself before I walked straight into his chest. He crossed his arms, one corner of his mouth slanting upward in a smile.

“Really?” he said. “What’s my prize? And why, my dear October, are you gowned so fetchingly? You don’t need to make yourself beautiful for me, you know; you’ll never win my heart. Although you’re welcome to keep trying, if you insist. Next time? Try wearing a corset.”

He kept smiling as I fought to get my breath back, and grinned when I snapped, “Oberon’s fucking balls, Tybalt, give me some warning next time!”

“Why? It’s more fun this way.”

I blinked, the urge to slap the smile off his face fading. He wouldn’t be teasing me if he wasn’t interested in what I was doing there, and as long as he stayed interested, he’d listen. Cats are like that. “Well, hello to you, too. Took you long enough to get here.”

“I was busy.” He frowned, mood turning on a dime. “What are you doing here? The sun’s about to be up, you know. I didn’t think we were going to be making this a habit.”

“Actually I was looking for you.”

“You were looking for me?” Now he looked outright disbelieving. “Have you finally lost your mind, or is this some sort of joke that I’m simply not getting?”

“Neither,” I said. “I need to ask you for a favor.”

“A favor? You’re not serious.” He took another look at my expression, and his eyes widened, pupils contracting. “You are serious. When did you start deciding to ask me for favors? Have I missed something?”

“You want to know why?”

“Since I don’t generally ask questions I don’t want to have answered, yes, that would be pleasant.”

I opened my mouth to reply, and stopped, almost stumbling into him as the pressure of the sun increased, signaling the final approach of dawn. He sighed.

“Ah, the pleasure of your company at dawn. How could I ever have wished to forgo it?” We were already so close together that he didn’t have to move to put his arms around my waist; he just did it, advising mildly, “You may want to hold your breath.”

“Wha—” I asked, too surprised to pull away.

“Suit yourself,” he said, and fell backward, dragging me with him into the shadows still lingering at the mouth of the alley.

It had been cold before, but that was a natural cold, the chill of the early morning in a coastal city. This was freezing, the sort of cold that runs all the way down into your bones. My eyes were open, and all I could see was blackness, the sort of endless dark that children swear waits for them beneath the bed and in the closet. I gasped, and felt the back of my throat burn as the cold seared it.

At first, the only source of warmth was Tybalt, who had me tight against him, arms still locked around my waist. Then I felt the hope chest again, heating my skin through the plastic I had wrapped around it. I didn’t throw the warmth away this time; I clung to it, struggling against the urge to take another breath. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew that fighting Tybalt wouldn’t get me out of the darkness. It would strand me there.

Just as I was sure I’d die if I didn’t breathe, Tybalt moved, pushing me forward, away from him, back into the blazing brightness of the morning. I stumbled, going down on one knee on the damp pavement of the alley as I took in huge, blessedly warm gasps of air. Once I was sure I wasn’t dead, I raised my head and stared at him, feeling ice crystals melting in my hair.

“What the hell . . . ?”