Book II: These Three Remain

Chapter 12: Making Up For Lost Decembers

Hands were grabbing me, pulling me, holding me down. I shrieked and pushed them away. To my surprise, they let go. A soft, deep voice said something I didn't understand. There was static and confusion, and then there were the hands again, touching my shoulders very lightly, taking hold of my hand and stroking my palm. The soft voice spoke again, the words coming towards me as if from underwater. But even though I couldn't understand, I knew the voice was urging me to stay. It was promising me safety. I faded out, then faded back in again. I was shivering with cold, but the hands were still there – warm, hesitant, gentle.

Very slowly, I began to relax. A blanket was spread over me, and a soft pillow was put under my head. I began to stop shivering. Someone was stroking my hair, slowly, gently, still speaking those reassuring nonsensical words. For a moment there was a bright light on my face, and I covered my closed eyes with my hands, wanting darkness. The light faded, and I relaxed even more.

Someone kissed my forehead, softly. I reached around me for the source of the caress and found a solid, warm body, one that was familiar to me. Someone scooped me into his arms, very slowly, very gently, and set me down again in his lap, with the blanket still spread over me. His arms closed around me, warm, gentle, and I burrowed my head against him. There were jagged lines of pain all over me, but in those arms I felt safe and loved. After a while, the nonsense words resolved into speech.

"I'm here, sweetheart," the voice was saying. "It's OK. It's OK now." It was a lovely, rich, sweet voice. It was like honey.

"Don't go," I whispered. My voice was so quiet, it was almost inaudible. "Don't go away this time."

The owner of the voice squeezed me tightly for a moment. "I won't go anywhere," he said. He had heard me, of course. "I promise. And don't you go away, either, OK? For a few minutes, you were sort of... going in and out." There was a deep sigh. "What have they been doing to you, sweetheart? You're so..." He let out a strange, strangled cough, then added, "And your aura is streaked with fluorescent orange."

I didn't answer. I didn't want to think about what they had been doing to me. It was too hard to talk, anyway. I just smiled and let out a happy sort of sigh, despite my pain. Someone was taking care of me. I was so warm... And I could smell pine, and the spicy smell of a familiar cologne.

"Tell me later," the voice said. I could feel the rumble of his chest against me when he spoke. "It doesn't matter, anyway. You're with me now. You're safe. I'll do everything I can to make you feel better." A hand took mine and lifted it to a pair of warm lips. I felt gentle waves of warmth and cold. Gentle waves... like being on a boat... I was soothed and rocked and held. I stayed like that for a long time, until the waves stopped.

And then, things shifted. The pain was mostly gone now, and I could open my eyes, finally. In front of me, a cheerful fire burned in a fireplace, under a mantel decorated with pine boughs. In an enormous window above me, the stars shone. And behind me, Adrian's eyes, bright with love and concern, blazed brighter than stars or fires ever could.

"Hi," I whispered.

"Hi," he said, and smiled.

"Are we dreaming?" I asked. I looked around us more. We were cuddled up in a reclining armchair in a cozy room. The blanket over me was brown velvet on one side and lined with white sherpa wool on the other, and I ran my hand over the soft velvet appreciatively as I looked around. The only source of light was the fire in the grate and, I realized, a Christmas tree in the corner, which cast a variable glow of pink, green, blue, and gold. I put my head down on Adrian's shoulder again and closed my eyes.

"Unfortunately, yes," Adrian said. "This is just a dream. But this is so much better than nothing."

"Oh, yes," I agreed.

"Do you like this place?" he asked, hesitantly, then seemed relieved when I murmured assent. "I would have taken you to our forest," he said, "but I can't get there without you. So I thought, I needed someplace warm and comforting, and this was the first place I thought of."

"Where is this?" I asked, surprised a little at the warmth of Adrian's tone.

"This is my Aunt Tatiana's cabin," Adrian said. "It's in the Poconos, a few hours drive from court. She used to come here to get away from the pressures of 'royal life'." He said the phrase as if he found the mere idea of "royal life" hilarious. "I got to come out here for Christmas a few times, and they were the happiest Christmases I ever had."

I opened my eyes and looked around again. The room was clean, homey, and cheerful. The furniture was all overstuffed and upholstered in shades of blue and blue plaid. On one wall, between the exposed beams, hung a bunch of photographs, many of them of Adrian. I wanted to get up and look at pictures of baby Adrian in the bathtub, but I just didn't have the strength. Another wall was covered with shelves and shelves of books. The wood floors were partially covered with a fluffy white rug, and an obviously fake fur throw rug lay in state by the fire. On one side of the room, a large set of French doors looked out over a deck, and beyond the deck I could see the moon reflected in the black waters of a small lake. A door to one side of the room led off to what looked like a kitchen. Toward the back of the room, I could see a wooden ladder leading straight up through a round hole in the ceiling. "It's really nice," I said. "But please tell me that it's not Christmas already. How long have I been... away?"

Adrian laughed. "It's still only May," he said. "You've been gone less than a week. It's Sunday night, I think. Well, Monday morning by now."

"Ok," I said. "If it's May, then what's with the Christmas?" I smiled to let him know I was only teasing, but Adrian took the question seriously.

"I knew you'd ask that," he said. "But I can explain. See, when we first got here, I turned on every light, but you... you didn't like that. So I made it night for you, and I turned the lights low. And then you were so cold, you were shivering. So I built the fire and made you that cozy blanket. And then I thought, what went better with a cuddle by the fire than... Christmas!" He smiled triumphantly.

"Your logic is impeccable," I murmured. I noticed that Adrian had gotten into the theme, and was wearing a pair of red flannel boxer shorts and a red and green plaid bathrobe, which he had left open. I, on the other hand, was wearing the same silk shell and khaki shorts I'd been wearing for days, along with Adrian's sweater. I frowned at my clothes, then replaced them with a dark green cotton chemise.

"Ah, very nice," Adrian said, and ran a finger along one of the spaghetti straps. "Slightly prim, but very sexy. Just like you. I like it. You should get one of those in real life."

"I thought you liked me in your t-shirts," I said, blushing a little at the compliment.

"I do," he said. "I like you in anything you wear. Or don't wear." He winked. I looked down, avoiding his gaze, and noticed something about my now-bare arms. They looked funny. I looked away from them instantly. I didn't want to think about it.

"I like your, um, outfit," I said, and placed a kiss on his bare chest.

"Thanks," he said. "I picked it out just for you."

I put my head back on his shoulder, cuddled up close to him, and closed my eyes again. "Let's stay here forever, OK?"

"OK," he said. "Nothing I'd like better. But... we do have to talk about a few things before we relax."

I groaned. "Don't say that."

"I have to," Adrian said, and I heard the regret in his voice. "It's just like before. We have to get the business out of the way, in case we get... disconnected. Right?"

"Yeah," I agreed, grudgingly.

"And hey, I have good news! Right this minute, Eddie and I are in a car and on our way to find you."

"Really?" I said, and looked up at him.

"Really," he said, smiling. "So you can relax. We have an address for the Wheldons, and we're going to stake them out, use them to track you down." He kissed my forehead again. "See? That's pretty good news."

"That is," I said, and then, stuck for words, asked, "How did you get the address?"

"I got a phone call from someone calling herself Azura Skye. She told me that she found your note, and gave me the name. That was brilliant, Sage, to leave that note." He squeezed me tight. "Just brilliant. I am so proud of you for thinking of that, even when you must have been really stressed out and scared."

I smiled, letting his words run over me like a hot, hot shower on a freezing cold night. "Thanks," I said.

"Apparently, this woman who called, she actually saw you at a rest-stop," Adrian said. "Or she thinks she did. She described a girl who sounds like you, and said that you asked her for help. This was in a bathroom or something, I guess."

"I asked a few women for help," I said. "They were scared, or thought I was up to something, and they all just ran away."

Adrian frowned. "That's what this woman did, too. I want to get mad and call her a coward, but at least she had the good graces to admit that she was scared. And, she says she went back an hour later to see if you were still there somehow. That's when she found your note. Of course, it took her a day or two to actually call me, but..." Adrian sighed.

I thought about that. "What was her name again?" I asked.

"Azura Skye. That's what she said."

I pictured the last woman I had seen in the bathroom – the one with the blue hair and clothes. "Azura Skye," I whispered, to myself. So she hadn't abandoned me after all. For some reason, that made me feel better. "So... You're going to find... Wheldon?" It was hard to even say the name. "And you'll come get me?"

"Yes," Adrian said. "Me and Eddie."

"Eddie," I said. "You mentioned that you were with him. He's really back on our side?"

Adrian smiled again, and this time the pride was for himself. "Yeah," he said. "I got him back on the side of sanity."

"Good job," I said, and kissed his cheek. "So how did you do it?"

"I talked to him," Adrian said. "I'm a very convincing person, you know."

I thought that there had to be more to the story than that, and said so. But Adrian shrugged it off.

"It's not important," he said. "I got him back, that's all that matters. And, in a minute or two, we can enjoy our lovely little Christmas. There's presents and cocoa and all sorts of nice things. But first... I have to temporarily ruin our cozy little reunion and ask you about where you are."

"Not right now," I said, sullenly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Sydney," Adrian said, with a bit more force. "It's going to be OK. Eddie and I are going to save you. But if you know any details about the place where they're holding you, then you need to tell me."

"I don't want to think about it," I said. But omething made me look exactly where I didn't want to: down at my arms. I saw the lines of cuts crisscrossing my skin. I saw the cigarette burns. I saw the bruises around my wrists where I had struggled against my bindings. The wounds had all faded because of Adrian's efforts, but there was only so much he could to heal me from this distance. Tears blurred my vision. "I really don't want to think about this," I said again, in a harsh whisper.

"Look at me, Sydney," Adrian said, and I did. He stroked my face with his hand. "If I could shield you from these things, I would. Once you're safe in my arms again, I will devote my life to making up for what's happened to you. I'm going to help you forget all of it and just have the best life ever. But for right now, you have to face it. You're a thousand times tougher than me, and we both know it. You don't have to focus on the..." – and his voice caught in a funny way and he swallowed heavily. It was a full ten or fifteen seconds before he continued – "You don't have to talk about what they did to you. Just tell me about the guys who have you, and the place where they have you locked up."

"OK," I whispered. "It's really... unpleasant."

"Yeah," Adrian whispered back. "So hold on tight to me. We'll face it together. And when you're done, we can open the presents, OK?" He gestured at the tree, which I saw now was, in fact, surrounded by presents. "We'll have a nice Christmas."

"Well, if there'll be presents," I whispered, smiling a little. "I didn't know that there were going to be presents."

Adrian returned my weak smile. "Tons of them," he said. "Best Christmas ever."

I leaned back down so my head was on Adrian's shoulder, and he put his arms around me and squeezed me tight. I took one or two deep breaths as I allowed my memories to go to the thing, the Bad Thing that I had been keeping just at the edge of my consciousness. I gripped of one of Adrian's hands the way people do when they're afraid to get a tattoo or a shot. Then I began talking.

I told him everything I could think of. I gave him a description of the room, the different people I'd seen, the hours that they kept. I told him about Joe, and his strange kindness and storehouse of junk food. I listed everything I knew about the Creep-a-droo, who was supposed to get there in the morning. When I mentioned Angeline and her mysterious visit and even more mysterious theft, Adrian shook his head sadly, as confused as I was as to what any of it meant.

"Is that all?" Adrian asked.

"No," I said, in a choked voice. "That's not all." And because I felt I had to get it out, I told him what they'd been doing to me. I began by telling him about the sedative in the car, and the subsequent doses of Vigil.

"What did that stuff do to you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It kept me from sleeping, or even closing my eyes. It made my heart race. It made it so I couldn't stand still. It made me start to lose my mind."

Adrian stroked my hair. "The streaks of fluorescent orange in your aura," he said, ruminatively. "I get it now. But why did they do that to you? What was the fucking point?"

"Partially so that I would be in a reduced mental state for the Creep-a-droo," I said. "And partially so that I wouldn't, um." I swallowed hard. "So that I wouldn't pass out from the pain." I looked at Adrian, and he just took a deep breath and nodded for me to continue. So I told him about the rest – the table, the ties, the box-cutter, and the lit cigarettes.

When I was done talking, Adrian silent for a minute or two. His arms gripped me even tighter and closer, and I buried my face in his chest. When he did speak again, it was in a harsh, tight whisper. "Oh, sweetheart," he said, tilting my face up to him so that he could wipe away some of my tears. "I wish I could have taken some of that pain away for you."

"You did," I whispered. "When you healed me before. And just now, when you listened to me. I feel better now." Oddly, I really did feel better now that I had gotten it all out. There was something to be said for spilling your guts, I realized.

Adrian shook his head. "I wish I could have walked into there like you walked into my dream that time, so I could have taken the pain all away for you." He gave a humorless laugh. "I've done nastier drugs than Vigil. I could have handled it."

"In a way, you were there," I whispered. "The memories of you, the thought of you... It carried me through it."

"You should never have been there in the first place," he said. Then, in a low, cold voice I had never heard coming from him before, he added, "And I swear to God, when I see this guy, this Wheldon fuckface, I'm going to kill him."

"Don't," I said, immediately. "It's not worth the damage to your soul."

"I won't turn Strigoi unless I drain him," Adrian said. "And I don't want that guy's blood in me. Trust me on that."

"I know you won't turn Strigoi," I said. "But you still damage your soul when you willingly kill, even someone like... him." I shuddered. "Don't kill him. He's not worth it."

Adrian took a few quick breaths, and then nodded. "Death's too good for him anyway," he said. "I'd like to make him suffer a little. Or a lot. Can I do something to make him suffer, Sage? Can I use compulsion to make him think that he just got stung by a thousand bees? Or... just been cut by a thousand box-cutters..."

"Maybe," I said, in a quiet voice. "I don't know. I don't want to think about him."

We were quiet for a few moments, and then Adrian said, "I'm sorry if I upset you talking like that, sweetheart. I just have never been so angry in my life. I mean, everything else I've ever been mad about, it's like... nothing. The only thing that comes close is..." He took a deep breath.

"Tasha," I whispered.

"Yes," he said. "But even she wasn't completely evil like this man is. She was just crazy and ambitious and fucked up in the head. This guy, this... this... this evil, sick, reprehensible... motherfucking fuckface..." He paused, then closed his eyes, obviously trying to regain his cool. Then he gave me a weak smile. "But we won't talk about it anymore, sweetheart. It's Christmas, after all. We should be having a good time."

"And you're on your way to rescue me," I said.

"Yes," Adrian said, thoughtfully. "I still can't say from what you've told me where exactly they're holding you, but it sounds like it's in an office building or something. So Eddie and I will just stake out that... that fuckface's house and follow him when he goes in to work."

"Where does he live?" I asked.

"This little town called Truckee, California. It's a small town about 45 minutes away from Reno."

"Truckee?" I repeated, surprised.

"Yes," Adrian said, surprised at my surprise. "Yeah, Truckee. Stupidest town name I'd ever heard until I heard a bunch of the names of the nearby towns. Can you believe that there's actually a place called 'You Bet'?"

"But, this town, their town, is called Truckee," I said, ignoring his tangent. "You know, the guys kept saying that we were going to 'the truck.' And Joe said that at night, 'the truck shuts down.'"

Adrian smiled a little. "'The truck,' huh? Well, there you go. I guess you're really in Truckee. You're probably not that far from the asshole's house. I mean, it's a small town. There's only one pizza place."

"How can they stand it?" I asked, smiling.

"I have no idea," Adrian said. "The mind reels. Anyway, so we're through the worst of it. Eddie is going to wake me up in probably about another half hour because we have an errand to run, but I can just hang out with you for a while now. No unpleasant conversations." He smiled, and I could feel him trying hard to dispel his negative mood. "Presents, then?"

"Just one thing first, before I forget," I said. "When you wake up, will you research something for me?"

"Anything, sweetheart."

"Will you look up Luna Park? My towel says Luna Park."

"Your towel," Adrian said. "You mentioned the towel before. You haven't drawn a face on it and named it Wilson or Towlie or anything, have you?"

"No," I said, smiling. "But I have been wondering where Luna Park is."

Adrian looked thoughtful. "Are you talking about the amusement park?"

"There's a picture of a Ferris wheel on the towel," I said. "I guess it's an amusement park, yeah."

"Yeah," Adrian said, nodding in thought. "It might be the Luna Park in Coney Island, you know, in New York City. It's right on the beach. They have a great big Ferris wheel, and a famous old wooden roller-coaster called the Cyclone..."

"The Cyclone?" I said. "In Coney Island?"

"Yeah..." Adrian said, puzzled by my interest.

"Joe," I said, sighing. Joe, the Brooklyn boy, the fan of the Cyclones baseball team, the one who worked at "Coney" during the summer... Joe, my sort-of friend, who missed his dead mother and her amber brown eyes. He had given me the towel. Of course he had. I was suddenly embarrassed that I hadn't figured it out sooner. When Joe had come in that day to install the camera, I had noticed that there was already a hook hanging from the ceiling, ready for the camera. He must have come in to install that while I was still unconscious, and probably had given me the towel then. Maybe he'd seen me lying on the floor and felt sorry for me, even before the "questioning" began. I wondered what he'd risked in giving me the towel. Unlike the food or medicine he'd given me, the towel had been in plain sight every day, waiting for one of the Wheldons to notice it and start asking questions. "Oh, god, Joe..."

"What about Joe?" Adrian asked, startling me from my reverie.

"He gave me the towel," I said. I turned my head to the side, remembering. "And, he gave me the antidote, too."

"Antidote?" Adrian asked. "Antidote to what?"

"The Vigil," I said. I frowned, trying to remember exactly what had happened just before I had finally fell asleep. It seemed sort of fuzzy now. "He was supposed to give me another dose, but faked giving it to me, and then came back with an alchemist kit. He starting mixing something up, and I told him there was no antidote to Vigil. But he said that there was an antidote to everything, if you know the right principles." I remembered him pouring the capsicum into his mixing jar, and my fear. But in retrospect, it made sense. Alchemy didn't work like secular chemistry did. We worked with energy, directing and redirecting it, bending nature to our will. The antidote had to contain the poison. It always did.

"So you're saying that when you showed up here, you had just been given an antidote to that crap they kept giving you?"

"I think so," I said.

"That shit that turned your aura fluorescent?"

"I guess so..."

"Well, if I see this Joe, I'll be sure not to punch him in the face too hard," Adrian said, dryly.

"Hey!"

"He helped you and all," Adrian said. "I know, I know. He gave you some food and a towel and the antidote. Great. Why didn't he give you the damn key while he was at it?" I had no answer to that, and Adrian went on. "He's still on the side of the bad guys," Adrian said. "Don't forget that."

"He's not a bad person," I said. I looked at my arm, where an angry line announced the former location of the deepest cut I had received. I wondered if the scar would ever go away. "But... I know you're right." I kissed him on the cheek. "Let's not talk about any of this stuff anymore," I said. "I mean, unless you think we have to?"

"No," Adrian said. He smiled. "And in my house, we always have something warm to drink while we open presents. What would you like? Hot cocoa? Coffee? Maybe some buttered rum or eggnog?"

"Just some herbal tea," I said. After my night of Vigil, I never wanted coffee again as long as I lived. And the calories in the other things he'd suggested were just off the charts.

"No cocoa even?" Adrian asked, pouting a little.

"Nah, it's too... sweet," I said.

Adrian started to say something, stopped, then took my face in his hands very gently. I smiled automatically, expecting a kiss. And I got one, of course. When I opened my eyes again a minute later, I found myself looking directly into his. Suddenly the world seemed like a much simpler place. "Sydney," he murmured. "I hate to have to do this, but there's no time to argue about this."

"Hmmm?" I asked, dreamily. "No time for... what?"

He started talking, but later on, I couldn't remember what he said. It was as if there was nothing on earth but his eyes, swallowing me up, drowning me, like big green oceans of light. I could barely breathe. And then I snapped back to attention guiltily. "Did you say something? I think I spaced out for a minute there."

"I didn't say anything. Don't worry, sweetheart. So, want some hot cocoa?"

"That might be nice," I said, then felt some serious deja vu. "Did you already offer me some cocoa tonight?"

"Probably," Adrian said, smiling, and handed me a bright red mug full of steaming hot cocoa. I blew on the surface, meaning to cool it a little, and saw with surprise that there were dozens of tiny marshmallows floating at the top of the mug, in all different shapes. There were normal shapes like hearts and stars, and more interesting ones, like racecars, tulips, and, of course, boats.

"It's perfect," I said, and looked up to see Adrian grinning at me.

"Here, have a gingerbread man, too," he said.

I looked at the item Adrian had handed me. It was shaped like a gingerbread man and had similar decorations, but... "This is a brownie," I said.

"Of course it is," Adrian said. "It's a brownie shaped like a gingerbread man. Because brownies taste really good, and gingerbread men, not so much."

"I kind of like gingerbread men," I said.

"Oh, I kind of like them too," Adrian said. "But tell the truth, which do you like better?" He was right and I knew it, so all I did was press a kiss against his cheek. "Oh," he said. "You like me better than the brownie. Yes! Adrian wins a point!" I smiled and then began eating the brownie-man. "Good?" Adrian asked. He was watching me eat with so much intensity that I began to feel slightly embarrassed.

"Yes," I said. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"You're just so cute when you bite their little brownie heads off," Adrian said. Then, demonstrating one of those mercurial shifts in mood that I had come to expect from him, he rolled out from under me and ran over to the Christmas tree. "OK, enough of that! It's present time!" he said in a singsong voice.

"Present time?" I said, putting my cocoa down on the small end table near the chair. Then I began making presents for Adrian while his back was still turned. By the time Adrian came back over to me, his arms full of boxes he'd retrieved from the tree, the floor near the recliner was covered in various sized boxes, all wrapped in green and gold wrapping paper and all tagged "FOR ADRIAN."

"Open mine first," Adrian said, dropping a box in my lap. He was practically tapping his foot in impatience.

"Open one of yours, too," I said, gesturing.

"Nah," he said, getting down on his knees so he'd be right about at eye level with me. "In a minute. Open open open!"

I laughed and opened one of the boxes. Inside was a model car about the size of my hand – a brown Suburu Outback. "Latte!" I said. "It's adorable!"

"The little doors open and close," said Adrian. "I always liked that when I was a kid."

I looked more closely. It was heavy for its size, and I realized it wasn't just a model of a car – it was a perfect miniature reproduction. The doors opened with a latch mechanism, like real car doors. I reached my finger through the door and tapped on the steering wheel, and jumped slightly in surprise when I heard a honk just like Latte's. I carefully opened the hood and underneath it I saw the coils of motor and gears.

"It's perfect!" I said, and gave Adrian a kiss.

"Open the next one," Adrian said, excitedly.

"OK, OK!" I said, cheerfully, and I got down on the floor near the fire to make it easier.

I opened the next present to find a perfect tiny Austin-Healy. The next two boxes contained a Renault and an Opal. "These are the cars I mentioned in the park in San Francisco," I said.

"Well, you wanted to name our kids after them," Adrian said.

"I was naming koi!"

"Whichever," he said. "I looked them up. I wanted to know what the cars looked like. Gotta say I'm not sure about them. Especially that Opal. What is up with the lump on the hood?" He made a face and I laughed.

There were still several more boxes, and when I opened them I found a red Mustang, a black Mazaradi, a pure white Bentley, and finally, a midnight blue Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT8. When I opened that one, I looked up to see Adrian's uncertain smile. "Do you like that one?" he asked. "I wasn't sure..."

"It's Caliban!" I said, happily. "I love it!"

"Caliban? You named the car?" Adrian said.

"Of course," I said. "It's not a bad car. It just has bad owners."

"You sound like someone talking about a pit bull," Adrian said, affectionately. "Now open this one," he added, handing me a huge package. I peeled away the wrapping and found a model racetrack that fit perfectly with the scale of the model cars.

"Oh, wow," I said. There were tiny trees, bleachers, and even spots for pit crews to sit.

"Race you," Adrian said, grabbing the Mazaradi.

"You're on, vampire," I said, taking the SRT8.

"Oh, by the way," Adrian added, placing his car on the track. "They steer by gesture." He held his hands up as if he were holding a steering wheel, then shouted, "Go!" His car took off like a shot, and he began steering it with his invisible steering wheel.

"Hey!" I said. "Let me practice for a minute!"

So, we spent a little while racing our cars around the racetrack and eating brownie-men and drinking cocoa. I couldn't stop giggling. The cars were so fun to steer and race, and whenever they crashed into each other, they immediately sprang back into perfect shape. We changed cards, trying all of them.

"Are you having fun?" Adrian asked.

"Yes!" I said, trying to make my Corvette turn around the tight corner.

"Good," Adrian said. His Bentley was making stately progress around the racetrack. "I'm trying to make up for all those shitty boring Christmases you had, when all you got was books and chemistry sets."

"I told you," I said, as my Corvette approached another curve. "I didn't get chemistry sets. And anyway, I didn't get any presents at all once Zoe turned twelve..."

"What?"

"Yeah," I said. "My dad didn't think we should do a gift exchange anymore. It didn't fit in with our religious teachings. So we just... wished each other happy December."

My car slowed down and stopped. I tapped at it, but it wouldn't move.

"Your dad is an asshole," Adrian said. "Next Christmas, you're going to wake up in a pile of presents so big you're going to have to unwrap your way out."

I laughed, trying to picture that. "OK," I said. "But you know, I didn't really miss the presents, exactly. It was more about..." I trailed off.

"It was about not having a holiday," Adrian said.

"Yes," I said. "That's exactly it."

"I can understand," Adrian said. "I have some Jewish friends and some atheist friends. We still all like eggnog, you know?"

"Exactly," I said.

"So... as I said. I'm making up for all of it, starting right now. Making up for all those lost Christmases."

He kissed me, and a moment later, the motor in my Corvette started up again. I looked down at the racetrack and muttered, "Cute. A metaphor."

Adrian laughed. "Ok," he said, and picked up yet another present. This one was wrapped with thick red paper that glistened in the light. "Now, open this one."

"Open some of yours first!" I insisted, though I was curious what was in the red box.

"Fine," Adrian said. "Which one?"

"This one," I said. He tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a bright green tie, which I immediately tied around his neck. "It looks great," I said, surveying the effect of the tie against his bare chest. "It makes the outfit."

"I like it a lot, actually," he said. "Hope I can keep it." The next few boxes contained some silk boxer shorts, a cashmere sweater, a box of tempura paints, and a bottle of Noir de Noir, his – and my – favorite cologne. "I wish I could keep all this stuff," he said. "You know me so well."

"I wish I could afford this stuff in real life," I said.

"Once I get my trust fund back, we'll be able to buy anything we want," Adrian said. "It's set up so that it divests to me when I turn 30, no matter what my dad does."

"So we only have to wait another eight years," I said.

"Seven and a half," Adrian said. "You in?"

"Of course," I said.

"Gold-digger," Adrian said, and winked. I hit him gently, and he caught my arm and kissed my hand. I loved how he did that. "Here," he said, handing me the present he had tried to give me before, the one in the red box. "This is the last one. For now, anyway." I opened the box, and inside was another box, a large black velvet one. And inside the black velvet box, nestled in the white silk, was a beautiful glass heart, about the size of a quarter, strung on a delicate silver chain. "It's Murano glass," Adrian explained, as he hung it around my neck. "It's the kind they sell in Venice. We saw them on our first real date. I ordered one for you, online, when I sold my first painting. It hasn't arrived yet, so I thought I'd give you this one now."

I looked down at the heart, and could just make out the outlines of my small gold cross through the colorful swirls of the glass. Faith and love, I thought. "It's beautiful," I said.

"Yes, it is," said Adrian, not looking at the necklace at all, and leaned close to me.

When we finished kissing a few minutes later, Adrian gestured to a low table with a cozy looking loveseat next to it. On the table, lit by red taper candles, there was a beautiful Christmas feast – candles, a turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, the whole deal. "Wow," I breathed. "Dinner! I could eat a horse!"

"Yes," Adrian said. "That's the spirit, sweetheart." He scooped me up into his arms, and then carried me over to the table while I giggled. We sat down on the loveseat and loaded up our plates with the amazing food. Then, as we ate, Adrian told me about what he'd been doing for the days that we'd been apart.

"So," he said. "I took Highway 5 as long as I could, then sent the girls home and um, acquired another car." I didn't ask, and he didn't elaborate. "Then I switched to Highway 395, but I took it all the way to Reno without seeing your car. I got a room at a casino hotel, and spent a few minutes making a complete ass of myself on the gambling floor. But the entire time I was 'listening' for you, you know? I kept hoping I'd 'hear' you fall asleep. But you never did."

"So what did you do?" I asked, buttering a roll.

"Well, I decided to go crack into the DMV registry online. It was the only way I could think of to find you. But there were like, twenty cars that fit the description. Not a million or anything, but still kind of tough to go find you..."

"Wait," I said. "How did you crack into the DMV?"

"You just gotta meet the right people," Adrian said. He poured gravy all over his entire plate. It was cute. "It's weird how a lot of people who work at the DMV hang out at a bar that's across the street from a DMV location."

"That is weird," I said, cutting up my slice of turkey.

"In any case, twenty cars was too many, and I was just overwhelmed," Adrian said. "It was Saturday night by then, and I went to my room and I poured myself a little port and lit a cigarette. I was feeling pretty low, you know? Spirit-darkness was kicking my ass, and I hadn't heard from you in 24 hours by that point. I just wanted to give up. And then I... felt you."

"What do you mean?"

"I felt you," Adrian said again. "Or smelled you. Or something. You were nearby, anyway. I started calling for you, and then I heard you calling back. I was probably losing my mind."

"You asked me where I was," I said, dropping my fork and staring at him. "Right? You kept saying, 'where are you'?"

"Yes," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "And you said it was hell."

"It was," I said.

"So that wasn't... a hallucination on my part," Adrian said. "It was really you."

"It was me," I said. "Hmm. Let me think about this." I lifted an enormous forkful of stuffing to my mouth. I felt like I hadn't eaten in a million years.

"Good stuffing?" Adrian asked, smiling.

"Yeah," I said, emphatically, when I finished chewing. "You have to give me the recipe."

"It's a secret. You have to be an Ivashkov to get the recipe. But maybe if you ask me really nicely..." Adrian winked.

"Anyway," I said, ignoring his vague insinuation. "I'll think more about it. I'm sure there's a scientific reason for us being able to contact each other even though I wasn't asleep."

"Sure," Adrian said, and kissed my cheek. "It's so sexy how you find an explanation for everything."

"Tell me more about what happened to you," I said, grinning. "Come on, stop that. Just... tell me what happened after we... saw each other."

Adrian pouted a little, then resumed his narrative. "You just looked so forlorn," he said. "I couldn't just sit there after that. I began thinking, 'Ok, well, I'm not good at this database stuff. What am I good at?' And I realized I was good at convincing people of things. So, I tracked Eddie down in a dream, and we had a nice long chat."

"Let me guess," I said, my mouth half-full of mashed potatoes. "You used compulsion."

"Nah," Adrian said. "I just pointed out a few crazy things about his story. For example, why wasn't he beaten to a pulp? He had just a few scuffs and bruises, but nothing major."

"Yes!" I said, suddenly seeing his point. "I remember thinking at the time that there was something weird about that..."

"Exactly," Adrian said, smiling. "I just pointed out to him that he never would have let Jill go without a fight practically to the death. Split lip, a few bruises? No way. Once I cracked the surface of the lie, the rest was easy. He started to fight it off, too. It was crazy, though. When I first saw him, I could almost see the meddling they'd done to him. It was like part of his aura was covered with black Sharpie."

"You got through to him, though," I said. "That's amazing."

"You gotta stick to your strengths, is how I see it," Adrian said. "I can bake cakes, convince people of things, and rock your world in the bedroom, Sydney. Everything else, I need to delegate." He kissed me on the cheek, and I repressed a giggle. Why did Adrian always make me giggle? It was undignified. "Hey, do you want seconds of anything?" he asked, gesturing to the food.

I leaned back at the table, sighing a little. "I'm stuffed," I said. "I feel like I haven't eaten this well in months." I blinked down at my food, feeling confused. Something was off. Something was weird. "When was the last time I..." I trailed off.

"Holidays will do that," Adrian said, looking me in the eye. "We always eat a bit more than usual on holidays. You probably feel extra full because of that."

I smiled absently. Yes, it was totally normal. "Yeah," I said. "What about you? Are you full?"

"I'm full, yes," Adrian said. "Let's go sit back by the fire." So we left the table and sat side by side on the fur rug, near the pile of torn wrapping paper and the toy racetrack. Adrian took my hand and I leaned my head on his shoulder as he finished his story.

After he'd convinced Eddie of the truth, Eddie had agreed to drive up to Reno, and Adrian had gone out to pick up some supplies. "Just some things we'd need for your escape," he said. "I had a plan, you know."

"What plan?" I asked.

"You'll see," he said.

Apparently, it was while he had been working on his "plan" and waiting for Eddie to arrive from LA that he'd gotten the call from Azura Skye. Adrian used the information to track down the address for the Wheldons in the DMV, and then had gone out to steal a car and run a few other errands. Once Eddie had arrived, a few hours ago, they had decided that they would start their stake out in the very early morning, and devoted the rest of the night to setting up their mysterious plan. They had been about an hour and a half away from Truckee when Adrian had felt me slip into a dream state.

"You were so... bloody," he said, and the last word came out in a whisper. "I normally am pretty pro-blood, but not when it's all over someone I love. Your aura was streaked with this Cheetos-colored crap. And you were afraid of me at first. I couldn't hold you in my arms without you screaming and pushing me away."

"I didn't know who you were," I said.

"I know," he said. "Do you know who I am now?" he asked, looking at me intently.

"Yes," I said. "I know you like I know myself."

He smiled. "How well do you know yourself?" he asked, and kissed me to show me he was only joking. "Come here," he added, and pulled me to him. We lay down on the floor near the fire, my head resting on his chest so I could listen to his heartbeat. We stayed like that for a while, not speaking, just holding each other.

"Someday, I want to have a lovely night together that doesn't get interrupted with some kind of mayhem," Adrian said, finally. "But right now, I have to go. I have to check in with Eddie, tell him that I've found you, and pass along all of the useful tidbits you gave me. The schedule stuff is gold, Sage. I'm telling you. Also, like I told you, we have an errand to run, kind of an important one. So... yeah." He made a face. "I have to wake up for a bit."

"Oh," I said, dully. "For how long?"

"I'm not sure," he answered. "Maybe half an hour, maybe an hour. But, I was thinking," he added, in a brighter tone. "I can't leave you here while I wake up, of course, but there's no reason you should go back to that awful place just yet. Why don't we go to your forest? You can kind of hang out there and wait for me to get back. You've been able to do that before."

"Hmm," I said. "That's actually a good idea."

Adrian helped me to my feet, and I concentrated myself back into my original clothing, complete with sneakers. Adrian for his part put on a t-shirt and jeans, which was necessary but still unfortunate. Adrian threw a few brownie-men into a baggie for me, and we set off, through the French doors and onto the deck. I had expected it to be cold outside, but it was a warm, lovely night.

"Is that a hot tub?" I asked, looking at something on the deck, something large and covered with a tarp.

"It sure is," Adrian said. He took my hand and we began walking towards the forest. "Have you ever gone into a hot tub when the air around you is freezing cold?"

"No," I said. "It sounds awful."

Adrian laughed. "It's awesome, Sage. You get a glass of red wine, a few friends, maybe some music. Then you go outside and ease right into the water. And there can be snow on the ground, and maybe the top of your hair starts to freeze if it's wet..."

I shivered involuntarily. "I repeat, it sounds awful."

"You have to try it," Adrian said. "You know, Tatiana left this cabin to me. My dad issued a formal objection, so it's still in probate – I mean, these things take forever – but I saw the will and no matter what my dad does, I know this place will be mine, free and clear, someday. We could come out here sometime... when this is all over. We could go swimming in the lake in the summer, and in the winter, we can go into the hot tub on a cold night." He winked. "Naked."

I smiled. "Just you and me, right?"

"Of course!" Adrian said.

We continued to walk, hand in hand. After a few minutes, a few pine trees started to appear, mixed in with the elm and maple. Soon, the forest was made up only of pine trees, and a soft carpet of their needles were underfoot. I sniffed happily, smelling the faintly cinnamony scent of the ponderosa pines. I was back in my forest.

I looked around for all the familiar markers, and found each one in turn. There was the tree with the slash in it, and the ax I had used to make the slash. And, I was surprised to see, there was the sink that I had made the last time I was here, with the fluffy black towel still hanging from a nearby branch.

"I love this place," Adrian said. "I guess you've made some changes since I've last been here," he added, pointing to the sink.

"Oh," I said, a little embarrassed. "I wanted to wash my face and stuff."

"You're adorable," Adrian said. He seemed to find the strangest things about me adorable.

"You're..." I said, and trailed off. I took his hand, and then looked up at him. "You're perfect."

I half expected him to laugh and agree, but instead he just looked me in the eye steadily for a moment. Finally, he said, "Only around you."

I looked down at the ground, not sure what to say.

"This place has always been more yours than mine," Adrian said, after a moment. "You know, while we were broken up, I tried to get here once. I wanted to sort of... feel you. But I couldn't get here. It doesn't seem to exist unless you're here."

"That's weird," I said, surprised. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Adrian said. "That's why I didn't take you here in the first place. Like I said, I couldn't get here without you. So I thought my aunt's cabin was a good second choice."

"It was perfect," I said. "But I wonder why you can't get here without me."

Adrian shrugged. "Magic is weird," he said. "I don't even understand my own, much less yours."

"I don't do magic!" I said, much too loudly, then felt myself coloring. "I'm human," I said, in a softer tone. "I don't do magic. I just... Sometimes you just sort of... use your magic through my body. That's all."

Adrian rolled his eyes. "Whatever, sweetheart," he said. Then he gave me a wicked grin.

I could almost feel the dirty comment coming, so to cut him off, I gave him a kiss. He leaned into me, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"So," he murmured. "I'll go wake up for a while. I'll probably be back in, oh, half an hour. And then we'll have maybe ten or fifteen more minutes before I get to the Wheldons' house and begin my stakeout."

"OK," I said, into his shoulder.

He put one hand on my waist, then used the other to tilt my face up for a lengthy, soft kiss. "I'll see you back here soon," he added. "And I'll see you in person soon after that."

"Soon," I said, proud that my voice didn't waver.

"Very soon," he said. He squeezed my hand one last time and disappeared.