Chapter 18

...

"So much for not hitting girls," I muttered, backed up against the wall, in a pathetic attempt to get out of the way. Not surprisingly, Savannah and Bryce were both rather dangerous.

The cute little deck chair toppled over, though neither stopped trying to pummel the other into the ground. Leech tried to break them up and got clawed in the arm, right before Bryce rolled right into him and almost brought the big man down on both of them.

I pulled Leech back. "You can interfere if you see a weapon. Otherwise, at least this way they're only hurting each other." There was no point of risking our lives—they would have to stop eventually. Hopefully.

Twenty years without sibling fighting and it was all coming out now. Leech was staring on in horror as Kristof's children basically tried to beat the shit out of each other. They rolled down the steps, each trying to get the other to take the impact and then sprang apart at the bottom, beginning to circle each other like angry wolves. Bryce swung first, fists out like a boxer, pummeling her in the abdomen, but Savannah kicked out, hitting him in the shin and then right in the belly.

They both stepped backwards, clutching their stomachs. Savannah grinned—manically—spitting out blood as she taunted, "That all you got? No wonder he let me kill him. Who would want to stay around—"

He tackled her to the ground. Savannah shrieked and pulled his hair. Savannah was six feet and in shape but her brother was older, taller and stronger—not to mention the fact he hung around giants for fun. She had to use what she could. Bryce swore and pushed away from her.

Footsteps sounded. Paulson came around the corner, gun drawn. He took one look—the illustrious Mr Nast rolling around on the ground with a furious witch—and holstered his weapon. He looked over at me, wondering what the hell he should do.

I was a little less confident about leaving them to it, but it wasn't worth risking lives to try and separate them. Instead, I sat down on the steps and patted the seat beside me. "Pull up a chair."

Leech dropped down on the other side. "Kristof doesn't like this."

"Kristof's dead. It doesn't matter what he likes. Besides," I shrugged, "I don't see him rushing between them.

Savannah elbowed Bryce in the face, catching him in the cheek. He grabbed her by the head and dragged her, but she kicked backwards as she screamed, toppling him to the ground. He pulled her with him.

"I do have to step in if she tries to kill him," Paulson informed me. He didn't seem that upset at having to watch someone beat the shit out of his boss.

"She's been trying to kill him the whole time," Leech said. But that wasn't right. No, she was fighting back, egging him on, but she wasn't going on the offensive the way she normally did. She killed his father—it was the least she could do. And I suspected that Bryce wasn't giving it his all either. He was hesitating between hits, not pressing the advantages she gave him. Not to say that he was being gentle—she was clearly going to be black and blue. But in all fairness, so was he.

Bryce finally managed to get on top, holding her arms above her head, pinning her to the ground. Savannah screamed, teeth chomping, trying to buck him off. Her brother held firm. He snarled down at her, and when he spit it was red. The blood landed inches from her face.

Voice low, Bryce growled, "Get over it."

He stood up abruptly and walked away. We parted, making room for him on the steps. He didn't even glance down at us, just walked into the house, closing the door casually behind him.

Savannah lay on the grass, trying to catch her breath. A shout of frustration poured from her throat and her hands tore at the grass. Then she lay there, panting slightly and trying to figure out what to do next.

She stood up abruptly and without a word walked down the side of the house. I turned to Paulson. "You should follow her. It's probably not safe for her to be on the roads."

"Mr Nast—"

"Grant should be coming, right? And the house is protected." It wasn't my place, but someone had to make sure Savannah didn't kill anyone until she calmed down. I would be there then. "I'll clear it with Bryce, just, please...she won't want company but she can't object to a bodyguard. She's a Cabal princess, after all."

Paulson nodded. "Hell, he's probably going to fire me anyway." With a pleasant smile, he jogged to the front of the house. He didn't ask where she was going, but I figured he could probably track her by sound as long as she stayed on foot. Hell, I could still hear her shouts of frustration.

I smiled after him and then turned to Leech. He still seemed a little shell shocked. "Thank you," I said. "Back at the portal. For telling Bryce what to do."

"I should have been able to do it myself. I thought we were screwed." He sighed and then looked at me rather strangely. "You sent Paulson after her."

"It's better that way. You think I shouldn't have?" Not that his opinion mattered on this issue, because I knew Savannah better than anyone. But I could humor him for a moment.

"My nose didn't always look like this."

"I think it gives you character," I assured him, not quite sure where this was going.

"When Kristof died I told Bryce it was okay to cry. He broke my nose."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "I'm sorry," I said through the giggles. "Did you really think telling him it was okay to cry was a good idea? I mean, really? On what planet does that make sense?"

Leech began to laugh too, though he was a little more rueful. "It wasn't my idea. He didn't say anything for days and Claire—that's my...she was my girlfriend at the time—thought he was going to do something stupid, which was sort of given with Bryce. She insisted I say something. I was worried too, so I just sort of did as she said. I knew it was coming the second the words left my mouth, but I was just too slow."

"I can't believe you're still friends. Breaking noses seems like kind of a deal breaker."

"Yeah, well...it's not that I think he's going to hit you or anything, but I wanted you to know that. I would have stopped the fight. Not only am I powerless, but I'm also sort of useless."

"Don't say that," I said, but he wasn't listening.

"Someone needs to make sure he's all right." Leech's tone made it very clear that someone would not be him. Fine. If he wanted to wallow, I would let him. But first...

"Do you mind if I use your phone?"

My hands shook as I dialed the telephone, hoping while knowing it was just a fool's hope and I was a fool The dead didn't come back.

It didn't take me long to figure out that while Tia's mother appreciated my concern she had more important things to do. And none of that involved welcoming back the dead. I hung up and stared at the phone for a while, trying to gather the courage to do what had to be done.

What the hell was I going to do if Bryce decided he wanted Savannah out of his life? She was back in our world, was it really his job to be worried about the why of it all? If he didn't want to help, I wouldn't blame him. But I found myself hoping that he would at least let me try and convince him to keep helping us.

I walked down the hallway and found Bryce. The bathroom door was wide open as he cleaned himself as best he could. Already the faint outlines of bruises could be seen. He was going to be a mess tomorrow. Since this required healing and I was a witch, I decided to let myself in.

"You look like hell," I announced. His blue eyes found me in the mirror and he shot me an annoyed look.

"You going to help or are you going to talk?"

"Can't I do both?" I came up beside him and took the washcloth from him. He had already gotten the mostly superficial cuts cleaned, but a few spells could take care of the scarring.

"That was fucking stupid back there."

"You asked me just like she did," I pointed out, as I continued to patch up the scratches on his face.

"I wasn't talking about calling Paige. What the hell is wrong with you that you'd throw yourself into a time tear without any fucking idea about how to get out? That has got to be one of the craziest stunts I've ever seen, and I've practically made a career out of doing things no one else should."

"You got me out."

"Luck. What if you hadn't been able to?"

The thought of being stuck with those memories for every made me shiver. If I believed in hell, that's what it would be like. "But I did. Anyway, Cabals are only about results."

"This is clearly not official Cabal business," he dismissed easily. "You could have died, you idiot."

"What do you care? I might have taken the she-devil with me."

I felt the vibrations through his chest as he chuckled, hand brushing my hair back. "You are not nearly as amusing as you think you are."

"Liar," I said. He couldn't quite hide his smile and I found myself blushing, just a little. And because he was being sweet, I thought I should do something as uncharacteristic. I tried to be gracious. "Listen, Bryce? Thank you."

"For what?"

"Not killing my best friend." My fingers absently traced the picture of death on his right side. From the way he flinched, I knew it would be bruised tomorrow. "How are you doing?"

"Purple."

"That's not what I meant."

"What does it matter if she killed Dad or not? It's not as if I could hate her more than I did already."

"Liar."

"What does that mean?" When I tried to move around to his back, his hand came out and held me by the waist. "Gillian..."

"You told me you didn't hate her," I reminded him. "Or as good as. I just want to know if you've changed your mind now that you know for sure."

"I've been saying it for ten years. If anything, I feel vindicated. I was right. Sean owes me fifty bucks."

"You're terrible," I said with a smile. "Be serious."

"I am. I'm big on the forgiveness, don't you remember? Plus, my father helped her. If he doesn't care, why should I?"

"I'm surprised you don't choke on all that bullshit."

"I really did have no interest in getting to know her. Now I have to, if I really do want to forgive her. And it's too hard to be that angry all the time." He caught my eye in the mirror. "And who the hell are you to lecture me on lying, anyway? Do you ever tell the Cortezes the truth?

"Not really. No."

He wasn't content with that confession. "Is there a reason you're here and not with Savannah?"

His eyes were watching me in the mirror. I tried to keep my gaze firmly on his back. He didn't sound accusatory, just curious, so the truth just sort of spilled out. "I hate it when people try and comfort me. The only thing I can say to her is that it doesn't matter and that's a lie. It's better to let her cry in private."

He just said, "There are cigarettes under the sink, if you want." I nodded and he bent down and opened the cabinet. He even came up with a lighter. He passed over a cigarette—it didn't take the edge off, but it was a start.

"I can't believe you didn't just admit you smoked," I whined.

"Like you didn't lie about things that were twice as important." He did have a point, but I wasn't exactly going to admit it. "Gillian, what's with the accent?"

"What accent?"

"That one you sometimes have," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I finished cleaning everything I could. "I don't have an accent."

"Not now. When you yell, it doesn't sound right. I noticed it in the kitchen this afternoon but, yeah." That hadn't really been the time to say anything to me. "And back at the warehouse. When you're scared it's not—it's not that noticeable but it is there. I'm guessing you don't do it on purpose."

"I don't—fine. I have an accent. What do you want me to do about it?"

Bryce shook his head and then lifted me onto the edge of the sink so he could kiss me. I held still and then gave in, letting him distract me. When he pulled away, he spoke lazily, like this wasn't important. "I thought it was...cute. I was just wondering why you didn't have it all the time."

"I don't like the way it sounds. But I did live in the south until I was seventeen so sometimes I just forget to not talk like that. It just sort of slips out. If you tell me when I'm doing it, I can stop."

"I like it," he said absently.

"Well, you can be dumb sometimes."

"Touchy, touchy." But he punctuated his words with light caresses and I didn't mind so much. "Seriously, Gillian, occasionally remembering where you're from is not a bad thing."

"Yes it is."

I shivered because anything was better than remembering what had happened to me back then. I hated Georgia, hated everything about it and hated its last, tentative hold on me. My parents had been happy together, once upon a time, and then they moved to Georgia and it all fell apart, in a spectacular fashion.

"You'll grow out of it," he said eventually.

Unfortunately, while I hoped he was right, that reminded me that I hadn't always been completely honest with him. As my feet dangled in the air, I admitted: "Bryce? Just so you know...I only turned twenty last November."

"Thank God," he breathed out, trying to kiss me again.

"What?" Not that I had wanted him to be mad at me, but that wasn't exactly the reaction I had expected. He didn't seem too disturbed by the news; he actually seemed relieved. "Are you all right there?"

"Savannah told Leech you were under eighteen. There's no way in hell I'm almost a decade older than you but...it's nice to know that you really are legal."

"She said I was seventeen? And you still screwed me? I can't believe you would risk that. I could be some sort of psychopath. God, Bryce, you really are sort of a fuck up, aren't you?"

"Shut up. Like I'd let something as inconvenient as the law get in the way of what I wanted."

"If I remember correctly, I had to jump you."

"I let you." Bryce kissed me and I was suddenly sure this wasn't good-bye. He would help us. I licked his lips, tasting the faintest bit of nicotine. "And maybe it was just a little intimidating." I laughed and tried to slip down. He grabbed me by the waist, strong hands keeping me in place. "Take care of her, okay? I want to be the one who makes her feel bad and it's not fun if she's beating me to it."

"I would give anything to be like you and your sister." His eyebrows went up but he let me continue. "It's amazing how you always know what you want."

He kissed me again and then moved away to let me pass. As I hopped down, he said, "It's not as great as you might think."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe me. It makes it that much worse when you don't get it."

"I don't imagine that happens to you very often."

"Not very often, no. But sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"We're not talking about this, Gillian. So get on your way." He didn't sound angry, just final.

"See?" I called over my shoulder as I left. "You don't want to talk about it, so we don't. Everything you ever wanted."

He didn't say anything as I walked away.

I found Leech in the hallway, coming to tell me that Paulson had just called. Savannah had made him call a taxi and they were currently on their way to my house. It was probably deserted as Tia's parents were at home needlessly hoping and the other girls shouldn't be around.

The car ride was rather silent. Leech explained that Kristof had gone back to the ghost world to try and see what they could find out about the time tear that had caused Savannah to shift outside of time. Leech had been productive as well. He had contacted a few people about the time tear. There were only a few rumors about the phenomenon, but he reported them all back to me. The effects of time tears were negligible—it wasn't uncommon for the minor effects of time tears to disappear when they were closed. Sometimes even the major effects undid. I wasn't that lucky.

Leech also suspected that the un-fun experience of Savannah and I had more to do with us than the tear. Apparently entering through a time tear revealed the past, present and future—but amateurs had reported that it was guided by their emotional state to do so. He thought it was probably that our utter panic—hers when facing off with her attackers and mine trying to get her out—that had probably prompted the unhappy memory parade.

The men who had stumbled through the tear had probably seen the two of us closing it. That could explain why they had come after me. Could, Leech admitted, but not necessarily did. He would keep researching.

Paulson was hiding in the shadows of the front porch when the car pulled up. I only noticed him because he stepped out to greet me. Leech hesitated before driving off. Before I could get out of the car he finally said, "You shouldn't have done that. Kristof didn't want you to do that."

"It was her choice, not his," I said. Because that was the truth and also…I didn't owe Kristof Nast anything. I owed his daughter more than I could ever repay.

"I know you're not supposed to lie to the people you love but—"

"Sure you are," I interrupted. "But only when you know the truth will kill them. I think Savannah will realize it was an accident, eventually and I think Bryce needed to hear her accept responsibility for it. But you're right, I'm just guessing. If this doesn't work, feel free to yell at me."

Leech gave me a half-smile. "I hope it works."

"Me too."

He nodded and drove away. I hurried up to the porch to Paulson. "Have you been here long?"

"A few minutes. She's upstairs on a bed, crying. There's no one else inside."

"You didn't get into too much trouble for following her, did you?"

He shook his head. "Grant was actually pleased I showed initiative. I hope you don't mind, but I've been reassigned to watch over the two of you—Mr Nast seemed to assume you would stay here. Are you planning to or—?"

"I'm staying. By why do we still need you? Not that," I added with a smile, "I don't like having you around."

He laughed. "Thank you kindly. Not that anyone explains anything to me, but we still think our security might have been compromised. I don't think Mr Nast wants to take that chance."

I had hoped, but I was glad for official confirmation. He wasn't going anywhere, not yet. "Thank you. Do you want to come inside? No one will mind."

He stood up, stretching tired muscles. "You sure she won't?"

"She'll be too busy yelling at me to notice. And since you're going to hear everything anyway...come on in."

The door was unlocked and it was easy to get inside, even if it was hard for the two of us to walk down the hallway at the same time. "She's upstairs," Paulson told me, surveying the room with a little smile on his face. Much less grand than he was used to guarding, I would imagine.

"You can take any of the rooms, as long as you put it back the way you found it. I can't exactly afford to have anyone finding out I came back here."

Paulson nodded and I headed up the stairs.

When I blamed myself for my father's death, there was also the part of me that realized however hard I had pushed him back into his job it had been his decision to go into it in the first place. And that decision had cost me most of my childhood. The anger helped ease the guilt and eventually that had all faded into the proper sense of loss. But feeling responsible for your father's death and being responsible were completely different. I couldn't presume to know how Savannah was feeling. I could only hope I could take whatever she threw at me.

The door to my room was open and easy enough to find. In the cramped space it took me no time at all to cross to her side.

Savannah was lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling with the lights off. Only the moonlight allowed me to see, but I didn't turn on the lights. Tear-streaked faces and red-rimmed eyes were things I had seen too much of already.

Her voice was sandpaper rough, but it didn't break as she said: "Took you fucking long enough."

"I had to stop to screw your brother," I told her, flopping onto the bed beside her. It was a little too small to be comfortable, but I was a tiny person. I turned onto my side. "I could do you too. Might make you feel better."

She snorted. "You trying for a set?"

"And after I do you, there's just Sean and I'll have the whole trifecta."

"You'll have to count Sean out. And me too. Not really in the mood for experimenting." Still on her back, Savannah pushed me so I was lying down to. We stared upwards for awhile until she said, "I thought I heard you talking to someone. Please tell me the evil half-brother hasn't come to check on me."

"Even better. He sent a guard."

"The old one, or the one you keep flirting with?"

"Grant isn't old," I insisted. And I wasn't Paulson's type. Even if I had been, personally I was more interested in Grant, though I doubted the older man would be reciprocate. Not that Savannah knew their names. She never did bother with minions and it bothered me a lot more than I let on. "Paulson's the one that's here. He's an Expiscor, which means he can hear you."

"I don't care. Hey, does that mean he had to listen to you and Bryce—classy Gillian."

I blushed bright red. "Shut up. And fucking away your feelings actually does work. It's been scientifically proven."

Savannah half-laughed and then fell silent. I had all night. I waited patiently for her to speak.

"How is my brother?"

"Completely satisfied. Not to brag or anything."

"Gillian...."

I moved my head so I could look her in the eye. "How should I know? If you're asking me what I think...I'm not saying he's fine and he's going to look like he took on a wildcat and lost tomorrow but he seems alright. He was actually much nicer tonight...sort of. I mean, he called me an idiot, but for the most part the insults were pretty pedestrian."

"That's nice." Savannah's voice told me how insane she thought I was. "He's not...he's not furious?"

"I'm not a mind reader, but he didn't seem—I know you can't understand this, I wouldn't if I was in your place, but you were just a dumb twelve year old kid who lost control and you didn't mean to do it. He's smart. I think he gets that. He might even want to get to know his sister. But I mean, what do I know? If you really wanted to know what he thinks, you should ask him."

She snorted but I could hear the tears she was trying to hold back. It became even more obvious when she turned her back to me. I tried to give her as much privacy as I could. We stayed that way, silent, for a long while, but as I heard her begin to lose her fight with herself I began to talk, trying to distract her, trying to cover up the sounds of her crying.

"FYI, I don't recommend using sex to drown out the guilt. It just makes you feel more guilty. And not drugs, either. Drugs don't work and then you do stupid shit and then you feel even worse. Excessive anger helps in the short-run, but the long-run returns just kill you. What else...?" I tried to think of all the other stupid shit I had done. "Moving across the country, while fun, doesn't really help either. And running away? While it's my preferred method of coping just manages to get more people angry at you."

"So what do you recommend?" she sniffed.

I sighed. "I'm working on it. I've never tried shopping away the guilt. Maybe you could try that."

I felt my eyes burn with tears. I wiped them away furiously, knowing how selfish I was being. This was why I had been scared to come—because I was useless at making it better. Just ask Dana.

"That's stupid," Savannah said. "I don't have any money left. Lucas won't give me an advance. Maybe Adam..."

I snorted, then bit my lip waiting for her to yell. She turned over and punched me in the shoulder instead.

"Ow!" I whined, rubbing my arm. "Oh come on. You seriously can't deny you're in love with him anymore."

"Shut up," she muttered. Out came a slow release of air. "Do you think Bryce will tell Sean?"

"Once again, ask him. Do you think Sean will care?"

"Sean always cares." Her voice was breaking again. "I don't want him to think—I couldn't—"

Her hand found mine in the darkness, squeezing tightly. I couldn't be someone's life preserver; I could barely keep myself afloat. But I clung back because I was the one who was there and it was the least I could do.

My eyes burned and I felt a lump began to build in my throat but I pushed the words out. "He came to help you. Kristof came, Savannah. He helped you. And that has to mean something."

She was out and out crying now—and I couldn't help. I just sat there uselessly, unable to explain that it was okay, that nobody thought she was responsible, that it was alright. "It makes it worse," she said. "How could he possibly forgive me?"

"He loves you. He let his son break all sort of necromantic law just so he could stay around you for a little while. You clearly mean something to him. Hell, he died fighting with Paige over you. You have all these people who love you...it's incredible. You even have me, for the little it's worth."

"Worth shit all," she all but sobbed.

"Thanks." I glanced her way in the dark. "Do you want me to storm out of here in mock outrage?"

"Just shut up, okay?"

I could do that. It was all I could do as I listened to her cry in the dark.