Page 39 of The Labyrinth
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Marionstood at the window sipping coffee while looking over Central Park.It was hard to imagine how much her world had changed in the week since she first stepped off the plane.After everything she discovered, everything she learned, how could she go back?She didn’t want to return to her previous life.She had this premonition that if she went back, it would strangle her to death.
“You’re not coming with me, are you?”
Marion startled and turned around.Peter held his suitcase in hand and glared at her.In that moment, she knew their friendship was over.
“No.”
He took a step closer.“How can you want to be with those monsters?”
“They aren’t monsters.You’re marginalizing an entire species.”
Peter held up his hand.“Just stop.It’s clear you like being their bitch in heat.”
Rage poured through her, and before she could second-guess herself, she marched up to him and slapped him across the face.
“How dare you say that!”she snapped.“I came here to find you.Save you.And this is how you repay me?Calling me names?Fuck you.”
She turned away, not wanting to look at him any longer.
“See what they turned us into?”he yelled.
“Theynever turned me into anything,” she hissed.“But you’re turning me angry.I’m not going home with you, Peter.I’ll come home if or when I want.”
“Come on, Marion.Don’t be like this.We’re human, they aren’t.”
“Yeah, you’re not selling this very well.”She sighed.“Go home, Peter.And if I were you, I wouldn’t say anything about what you witnessed here because you never know where shifters might be.”
He paled.“I never want to think about this place ever again.As far as I’m concerned, this has been a drug-induced fantasy.I hope you come to your senses soon.”
She watched him leave, slamming the front door.Deacon walked from the kitchen holding a cup of coffee.He stared at her but didn’t say anything as he sipped his drink.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to leave as well?”she asked, holding her breath.Afraid of what he would answer.
“Do you want to stay?”
She huffed.“Another non-answer, but maybe that is your answer.”
“Touché,” he said.“Tell me, what do you want out of life?”
This was remarkably like the line of thinking she’d just had.
“I don’t...”the words died.She sighed.“I can tell you what I don’t want.I don’t want life in the country.I don’t want to be where the streets close up at five and everyone goes to church on Sunday.I don’t want to grow old there, where the dating pool usually includes a family member.”
He winced.“Knowing is half the battle.How about this.You accompany me to the fight tonight, and tomorrow we can sit down and figure everything out.”
“Oh.Um, sure.Is there a dress code?”
“Wear whatever makes you comfortable.”
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