The Mortal Heart

Hunting yawned. “Does that mean you aren’t coming?”

“Get out.” Macon pointed at the door. “I’m ashamed to share your blood.”

“But you do, whether you like it or not.” Hunting’s eyes narrowed. “And Silas is tired of waiting for you to come around.” They rarely referred to Silas as their father, maybe because he never acted like one.

Hunting glanced at the door and laughed. “Only a pathetic excuse for an Incubus would think I’d use the door.”

“I don’t care how you go, as long as you leave.”

“It’s funny,” Hunting said, looking his brother in the eye. “After all of Silas’ lectures about how I shouldn’t date a Mortal girl, you fall for one.”

Macon froze.

How does he know about Jane already?

Before Macon had a chance to ask him, Hunting dematerialized—disappearing into thin air, as if he’d never been there at all.

Macon dropped into his empty armchair, where his brother had been sitting only a moment ago. His head ached—along with his heart.

I’ll give it one week. Just to see what could’ve been—who I could’ve been. A glimpse of the life I’ll never know.

That’s not too much to ask, is it?

Macon already knew the answer, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.





IV. Confessions


“Wake up. It’s almost noon. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all week.” Marian walked into Lila’s room before she was fully awake. Marian was brushing her teeth, still wearing her silk kimono.

“Maybe I met someone,” Lila said, her head still under the pillow. “And my whole life has changed in the last six days”—her words were muffled—“and you were too busy working and going to class to notice.”

“Maybe you met someone?” Marian almost choked on her toothbrush. “You?”

Lila sat up on her futon. “He’s just helping me with a project. A prayer book or spell book or something. It’s not clear yet.”

“You mean, like, Salem stuff? Witch trials?” A strange expression passed over Marian’s face. “For your ABS paper?”

“Exactly. He solved the translation problem I’ve been stuck on for a week. He’s an intellectual genius, and different from anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“Intellectual genius? Hello? I’m right here.” Marian pretended to pout. “Okay, fine. What project, which hypothetical someone, and when can I administer the appropriate best friend interrogation?”

Lila smiled. “The Lux. And you’ll meet him. Today, in fact. For lunch. Plenty of time to give your approval before our first kiss, which sadly has yet to happen.” She flopped back on the futon with a groan.

Marian held up her toothbrush, laughing. “So if you aren’t kissing, what are the two of you doing? Just going over old documents together?”

Lila covered her eyes, embarrassed. “Sometimes our shoulders touch.”

“What time is lunch? I have a shift at two.”

“Crap.” Lila sat up again, checking her mother-of-pearl watch. “Crap. Crap. Crap. I said we’d meet him in twenty minutes.” She was out of bed in a flash, which meant something she wasn’t ready to admit.

This was serious.





Lila Jane saw Macon across the crowded tables at Q Shack, which was crawling with Duke students. She and Marian were already at a table, and she elbowed her best friend, who had her back to the door. “He’s here. Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Marian said, giving her a strange look. “But if you want to talk about who’s nervous—”

“It’s just that he’s so—him. And you’re so you. And I want you both to like each other so much.”

Marian smiled, grabbing Lila Jane by the arm. “Relax. If you like him, I’m going to like him.”

“Promise?” Lila Jane reached around Marian’s neck and squeezed her in a best-friends-forever sort of way.

“Promise,” Marian said. “With the small caveat that if you choke me to death, I won’t get to meet him at all.”

Lila Jane smiled and relaxed just as Macon made it to the table. “There you are,” he said, taking off his coat. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find the place. I’m afraid I don’t actually get out all that—”

Marian looked up at Macon towering over them, and he abruptly stopped talking and taking off his coat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, then turned to Lila Jane without waiting for his answer. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“No.” He took a step back. “Of course not.”

“Wait—you know each other?” Lila Jane pushed back her chair, scraping the floor. She shook her head. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Yes, please do,” Marian said, her eyes fixed on Macon.

“I can explain,” Macon said. “It’s nothing. Harmless. A flirtation.”

“A what?” Lila Jane looked like he’d slapped her. “What are you saying?”