Page 12 of Taming the Beast (Fairy Tales of New York)

For some reason Mercy felt a flicker of apprehension. “What?”

“Seb said that he came to see me just after I went into rehab to see how I was doing. Apparently I told him he was too late and to fuck off.” Zelda frowned and bit her lip. “I don’t remember it. I was in a bit of a state at the time. But it sounds plausible.”

“Could he be making it up?” asked Dawn.

Zelda shook her head. “He knew too much about the center. Details. He was there. The thing is,” she said, looking a bit bemused, “how did he know where I was? I mean, that information never appeared in the press.”

Ah.

Mercy felt her heart lurch and her cheeks heat and looked down at her drink because the conversation was now heading into dangerous territory and maybe if she didn’t draw attention to herself everyone might just skip over it.

“Did you ask him?” asked Faith.

Zelda nodded. “He was vague. Said he’d been told.”

“Who by?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Maybe he had his finger on the pulse more than any of us realized,” said Dawn.

“I don’t think so. It sounded like a visit on impulse, which is unlike Seb.”

Silence fell then for a few heavy, awkward moments, and Mercy was just considering a timely trip to the bathroom when Zelda suddenly turned her gaze on her.

“You’re the only one who knew where I went, Mercy,” she said, fixing those piercing blue eyes that had looked out of many a billboard on her. “You found it. You researched it. You helped me get there.”

Mercy’s mouth went dry and to her appall she could feel the burn in her cheeks spread across her whole face. “Dawn knew,” she pointed out, just about resisting the urge to press her cold glass against her forehead. “I told her.”

“Only quite a while after,” said Dawn.

“Oh, yes,” she muttered. “That’s right.”

“Why have you gone red?” asked Faith, peering at her way too closely for her liking.

“I haven’t gone red,” said Mercy, doing a Seb and going for denial because actually maybe there was something to be said for it.

“Yes, you have,” said Faith. “You’re as red as a beet.”

Mercy blinked as if uncomprehending. “Beet?” she said slowly. “What is this ‘beet’?”

“Nice try, Mercs. Problem is, your vocabulary is better than mine, Miss Piddle Canoodle Shebang.”

“I think you’re hiding something,” said the annoyingly perceptive Dawn.

“You’re wrong,” said Mercy firmly, wishing like hell she was a better liar.

“No, she isn’t,” said Zelda slowly, her eyes widening with dawning realization. “You spoke to Seb, didn’t you?”

Mercy swallowed, her heart thumping. “You know I did.”

“No, before the night of my slumber party, I mean.”

Dropping her hand Mercy squirmed on the banquette and opened her mouth to deny it again, but she knew her friends, knew they weren’t going to let it go, and anyway, maybe it was time she came clean and faced the consequences. “OK, fine,” she said with a little huff. “Yes. I did.”

“When?”

“Five years ago. You’d just gone into rehab. I know we’d agreed to keep it a secret but I thought he ought to know how bad things had gotten. I wanted to make him see.”

---