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He was silent as we took the turn, both of us going foot-over-foot to zoom past a couple dressed up as Raggedy A
"Oh." The speakers were thundering out loud, fast rock, and I glanced at the clock.
"She wants a trophy husband, and apparently I'm not moving fast enough," he said, with only the faintest hint of bitterness in his voice. "Not to mention she forgot I wasn't working for money to impress people but to go back for my master's. I thought I loved her." Again he shrugged, leaving his shoulders hunched slightly. "Maybe I loved the idea of having her beside me. The same things weren't important to us anymore, and it just…died."
I was glad his expression held more regret than anger. "And what's important to you?" I asked.
Marshal thought while we maneuvered around Darth Vader, who was struggling to keep from hitting the wall with his helmet blocking his vision. "Success at work. Having fun doing it. Caring for someone and supporting their interests because you like to see them happy. Having them care about and support yours simply because they want to see you happy."
There was a commotion behind us, and the "ass buster" light at the DJ pit started to spin. Darth had gone down, taking three people with him. I was silent as my thoughts drifted from Marshal's goals to mine, and then to Ivy. God, I hoped she was all right. It seemed so cold to be out enjoying myself when she was trying to find out who had killed Kisten. But it wasn't as if I could go into a den of vamps and demand information. Like I said, she did the vamps, I did the demons.
"Hey," Marshal said, giving me a tentative punch on my arm. "You weren't supposed to go all serious." I smiled up at him, and he added, "You want something to drink?"
I glanced at the clock yet again. "Sure. Sounds good."
Together we angled ourselves past the trio of traditionally dressed witches complete with black hats, arm in arm as they tried to do the cancan. We took the step up together onto the carpeted rest area, and I took a fast breath as my momentum cycled down to nothing in two seconds flat. The air suddenly felt warmer, and the music louder. It was only when I stopped that I realized how fast we'd been going. Again, sort of like my life.
I tucked my hair behind my ear when Marshal leaned in so I could hear him better. "What do you want?" he asked, his eyes on the line.
Besides to know what the hell is going on? "How about a slushie?" I suggested. "Something green."
"Something green," he repeated. "You got it. Why don't you grab a table?"
I nodded, and he moved to the line, settling in with his attention on the glowing menu. Looking at the clock, I felt like Cinderella. We had lots of time, but I honestly didn't know how vampires did this. Most public places had emergency sun shelters that they charged you beaucoup bucks for. Sacred ground was a little more difficult to come by.
I slid into the hard plastic booth seat with my back to the rink. The minute my mother had said Marshal wasn't going to last was the minute I'd started getting interested. God, I was stupid. I saw what I was doing, and I still couldn't stop it! But I really was starting to like Marshal, and that worried me. I mean, neither of us was looking for a relationship, but that's what made it dangerous. Both our guards were down. That, like me, he enjoyed some excitement in his life wasn't exactly a good thing, 'cause I could give him that dressed in leather and trailing vampire incense. But it was because of that very mind-set that he hadn't given me any grief about the new marks on my neck or the fact that a demon was gu
My dates with Nick had always centered around talking or watching movies. Kisten had been more extravagant, with di
I sighed, slumping in the hard plastic. I could be with a guy without thinking about a relationship. I did it all the time. There was Ford, and Gle
I shifted my skates back and forth, my feet feeling as heavy as my mood now that I wasn't moving. I could see the front door from where I was, and the skate counter. Someone was arguing with the attendant, Chad, and I turned to watch.
Chad had been ma
One of the men arguing with him was obnoxiously tall, his silhouette, clear against the bright, late-afternoon sky, visible past the glass doors. The other one was shorter but held himself with a stiff formality. My amusement that they were trying to bully Chad faded as I recognized the tall one. Damn it, there couldn't be two such vile, tall people in the world, even on Halloween. That was Jonathan, which would make the other guy Trent Kalamack.
I glanced at Marshal, and seeing that the line hadn't moved, I got up and shifted closer.
Yup, it was Trent, dressed in a suit and tie that looked way out of place with the threadbare carpet and linoleum counters. The thought of a Pandora charm came to me, and I dismissed it. I wouldn't owe him anything.
"I don't care if you're the prime minister of my girlfriend's ass," Chad said, pointing a Brimstone-stained fingernail at Jon. "You're not getting past the gate unless you have skates. See the sign?"
I couldn't see the sign from where I sat, but I'd seen it in the past. The thing was three feet by five and took up the entire wall behind him, lettered in red and outlined in black.
"This is outrageous," Jon said, his voice dripping disgust. "We simply want to talk to someone for five minutes."
Chad leaned back and took a swig of his beer. "Like I haven't heard that before."
Trent's jaw clenched. "Two pairs of nines," he said, clearly avoiding touching anything.
Jon turned, surprise on his angular, hawklike features. "Sir?"
"Just pay him," Trent said as Chad gave Jon a shit-eating grin and dropped two ugly pairs of skates on the counter.
Looking like he'd rather lick asphalt, the tall man pulled a long wallet from an i
My sarcastic smile went a