Page 81 of Never Say Die
“If you could go back to being how you were, would you?” Aiden asked. He tongued at the roof of his mouth, searching for explanations. “I mean, before the ritual. Before?—”
Shay faced forward. “Before I died? I don’t know. I doubt that’s on the table.”
“If itwason the table?”
Footsteps, birdcall, and muddy splashes filled the air. Shay pushed his hand through his hair, veins arcing against his forearm, thumb bony and big compared to his wrist. “Whatever happened to me isn’t a gift. I’d never want it for you—for anyone—but I don’t know if I could go back. If I could live with what I’ve done and not bethis.”
Minutes came and went, five then ten then twenty, until Kelly said, “Just up ahead, all right? Church behavior, boys.”
The house sat alone on an island, white walled and windowed, with a pillared porch attached to a boat dock. Marbled sunlight crossed a pearl roof, angled toward sheet moss and knobby branches, and a barefooted figure draped in black chiffon leaned against the balcony banister. She traded her wine glass from one hand to the other, perched like a hawk, watching, waiting. Aiden’s boots sank into the marshy ground, all grass and weeds, no path to be followed. Insects startled into the air, fluttering away from spider lilies and wild onion.
“Good to see you, Maeve,” Kelly said, and bowed her head.
Aiden adjusted his sunglasses. Maeve, huh? Crystal studs gleamed on her walnut skin, punched through wide nostrils and pillowed in her Cupid’s bow. She brought the glass to her mouth and sipped, staining her mouth dark red.
“I’ll meet you in the parlor,” Maeve said. She had a strong,deep voice, and spoke with a creole accent. From below, her midnight box braids appeared frayed, but as she turned, he noticed flowers threaded through her hair. Long-stemmed lavender and fluffy cattail.
Kelly kicked her shoes off next to the doormat, granting Aiden and Shay another wary glance. “Shoes, here. Watch your mouthandhis,” she said, specifically to Shay, and shrugged toward Aiden. “She doesn’t take kindly to rudeness.”
“Fuck you,” Aiden snapped.
Kelly arched a brow, pinning Shay with another hard look. Once again, her accent surfaced, stretching vowels like taffy. “Keep him in line, Shay. Like I said, I value my life. I encourage you to do the same.” She glanced at Aiden. “You’re ‘bout as behaved as a mean possum, but even possums have survival instincts. Listen to ‘em.”
Shay rested his palm on Aiden’s tailbone. Lips dusted the shell of his ear. “We need this. Be good,” he whispered, and nudged him forward.
Opaque gray paneling darkened the room, offset by natural light pouring through square windows. Neatly arranged bookshelves framed a leather sofa and a glass-topped table set with three empty goblets and two half-filled decanters. The living space led to a naked kitchen, bare enough to make Aiden pause. Consider. Go still like a deer on the killing end of a rifle. His eyes lingered on the used decanter, smeared from a recent pour.
Oh, he thought.Oh, no.
“Manners,” Kelly whispered, and lifted a brow.See?Her eyes said.I told you.
Maeve stepped off the staircase. She’d traded her robe for a knitted cardigan, mustard pencil pants, and a cream-colored blouse. This close, Aiden noticed the barely-there lines around her upturned eyes, the hand-rolled cigarette tucked behind her ear, and thought she could’ve been their mother or their sister.Older or younger, depending on the light. She watched Shay closely but angled her mouth toward Kelly.
“Miss Crawford, fix the beverages, won’t you?” Maeve said. She stood as tall as Shay and extended her empty hand. Her smile pushed dimples into steep cheeks. “I’m Maeve King.” She circled her glass, stirring crimson liquid. “Go on, now. I won’t bite you.”
Shay’s nostrils flared. Black pulsed across his eyes. “That’s…” He swallowed, glancing from her wine glass to the table. Kelly tilted the decanter and syrupy liquid licked the glass. Aiden remembered Laura’s body, cracked open and spreading. Shay stepped backward, guarding Aiden. “All right, let’s skip the niceties. Explain. Now. Like,rightnow.”
“You’re my guest, Shay. Take what I’m offering,” Maeve said, patiently. She held the glass out to him. “My psychic tells me we’re alike, me and you, but I’d like to know for certain. Now, I’d prefer to leave your lover alive, but hear me, child, I will bleed him into a barrel if you choose to be difficult. On ice, he’ll keep ‘til Thanksgiving. I’ll enjoy him with olives. A cheese plate, maybe.”
Aiden said, “Shay,” likedon’t, but it was too late.
Shay bared his fangs. Dark webbing bled from his black eyes. Claws sprouted, cuticles pushed away by curved talons. “Lady, I might be new, but I’ll still eat you. We’re done here, okay? We’re leaving.”
Maeve set both glasses on the table and shooed Kelly, gesturing to Aiden with a flick of her wrist. “Occupy him,” she said, and lunged. Maeve King moved like Shay had in the desert. More finesse, less desperation. Her palm surrounded Shay’s throat. Jaws split, revealing paper-white fangs—two up top, four below. Her fierce, obsidian eyes narrowed, and she made an awful, guttural sound, bellowing at him in an unknown,inhuman language. Tires, screeching. Grizzlies, roaring. Vipers, hissing.
“Like wolves, honey,” Kelly whispered, and gripped Aiden’s elbow, tugging him toward her. “Establishing dominance.”
“You knew,” Aiden seethed, unable to tear his eyes away from Maeve, who bent Shay toward the floor, one hand fisted in his shirt, the other gripping his neck. “How manybusinesspartners do you have?”
“It’s complicated,” she said, and then, kindly, “Maeve, please.”
Maeve growled. “I’ve carried this burden for as long as you’ve been alive. Respect your elders.” She shut her mouth with aclickinches from Shay’s cheek.
“Respect is earned, bitch. Threatening to barrel-age my boyfriend isn’t getting you anywhere.” Shay searched her face, bracing on the floor with one palm, the other raised, claws pressed to her wrinkled blouse. “What…burden?What are we?”
Maeve quirked her head. Her smile stretched into a grin and she let him go. Shay caught himself on his hands and pushed to his feet, casting a careful glance at Aiden. She passed Shay a wine glass. Black faded from her chestnut eyes, and she gestured to the place beside her on the sofa. “Sit. Tell me how you came to be,” she said. She pointed to the other decanter and pushed a glass toward Kelly. “Cabernet, dear. Straight from Tuscany.”
Shay sat. Cleared his throat and tilted the glass against his mouth. Instantly, black flooded his eyes again. He winced, drawing fast, hungry breaths, and drained every last drop. Maeve caught a dribble at the corner of his lips, collecting the wine—blood, whatever—with her finger. She sucked the digit clean, and Aiden, immediately, didn’t like her.
