Page 4 of Taming the Beast (Fairy Tales of New York)

“I’m taking a sabbatical.” And she was explaining this why? She wasn’t here for a catch-up or, heaven forbid, a trip down memory lane. She was here for Zel.

“So to what do I owe this pleasure?” said Seb, pulling her back on track.

“Zelda’s having a slumber party.”

His eyebrows rose. “Is she? She didn’t mention it.”

“We – her friends – are throwing it for her. It was a surprise. Are you going to put in an appearance?”

“Am I supposed to?”

Well, no, technically he wasn’t, but apparently Zel had invited him to dinner, an invitation he’d baldly declined. “She would appreciate it if you did.”

And wasn’t that the understatement of the century? Zel would kill for even a millisecond of her brother’s attention, would have done for years now, and still he withheld it. Deliberately, or simply out of habit, Mercy didn’t know, but either way it had cut far too deep for far too long.

“Given the way our last conversation went,” said Seb dryly, “I very much doubt that.”

Hmm. “You could always apologize.”

“I have nothing to apologize for.”

And Zel did? Mercy felt her indignation spike and then plummet because actually Seb might have a point there. By simply not showing up to that gala at which she was supposed to be representing the Madison family, maybe Zel did have something to apologize for, but still, that was over three weeks ago, and compared with his behavior towards his sister over the years and this evening in particular that misdemeanor was trifling. Trifling. Today’s New Word of the Day, and a good one. “Don’t you think it would be at least polite to come and say hello?”

“I’ve been busy,” said Seb, his jaw tightening a fraction.

“Of course you have.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“From what she’s said, it sounds like you always come up with some excuse to avoid her. Work. Travel. Pencils to sharpen. It’s a wonder she still cares.”

“I’ve never asked her to,” he said. “And I’d rather she didn’t.”

“She does nevertheless. She’s never stopped.”

“More fool her.”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Mercy a bit hotly. “But you’re all the family she has and apparently lousy family is better than none.”

Seb’s jaw clenched at that, the something in his eyes flickered again, and for the briefest of moments she wondered if she’d pushed him too far. If maybe she’d hurt him. But no. She hadn’t. She couldn’t. No one could. He was like granite: hard, unfeeling and utterly unassailable.

“If my company is so abhorrent,” he said so flatly that she thought she must have imagined the flare of emotion, “then why are you at my door?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I don’t do talking.”

“I’m well aware of that,” said Mercy, determinedly ignoring the memories of exactly how far he’d go to avoid it. “However, this time you have no choice.”

He sighed with what sounded like exasperation. “Oh, go away, Mercedes.”

What? Oh no. Not a

chance. She wasn’t going anywhere. So she pulled her shoulders back and tilted her head in challenge. “Are you really so afraid of what I have to say?”

“Of course not.”

“Then prove it.”

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