Poison Fruit (56 page)

And of course everything had changed for the Outcast.

I had dinner with Stefan at the Market Bistro a few days after the epic battle. It felt strange to sit across from an ordinary—well, not ordinary, a formerly immortal Bohemian knight was never going to be
ordinary
—mortal man instead of a supernatural predator. Strange to know that Stefan could no longer read my emotions like a book, strange
not to be able to gauge the extent of his hunger in the waxing and waning of his pupils.

Hell, speaking of hunger, it was even strange to see him eating and drinking with genuine relish.

Stefan even looked different. The pale sheen of otherness was gone from his skin. He looked younger and more relaxed than I’d ever seen him, laughing at my account of how peeved the vampires at the House of Shadows, especially Bethany Cassopolis, were to have missed the entire battle.

“So how is it?” I asked him when we were lingering over after-dinner drinks. “Being mortal again?”

“It is difficult to put into words,” Stefan said slowly. “Every day, I feel as though I am discovering the world anew.”

“And that’s a good thing, right?” I asked.

“For the most part, yes.” He inclined his head. “I regret that I can no longer provide solace to those in need, such as the residents of the Open Hearth home, but to be free of the endless hunger . . .” Stefan took a deep breath and released it. “It is as though a great weight has been lifted from my soul.” His expression turned grave. “Forgive me for not trusting you atop the dune, Daisy. I was wrong to attempt to stop you.”

Yeah, we hadn’t talked about that yet.

I shook my head. “No, you were right. You didn’t know what I was doing.
I
didn’t know what I was doing.”

“You did, though,” he said.

“Not until I saw your face,” I said. “That’s when I understood. If you hadn’t tried to stop me . . . I don’t know.”

Stefan’s brows rose. “If you had not yet thought to attempt to bargain with God, why did you begin the ritual?”

“The Norn told me to trust my heart,” I murmured. “And all my heart was telling me was that I had to stop what was happening.”

We sat in silence with that for a moment. I thought about the fact that now that Stefan was mortal, we could actually have a normal relationship. I could fall asleep in his arms. We could raise a family. We could grow old together.

It felt strange to think that, too.

I didn’t have the chance to think it for long.

“There is something difficult I wish to say to you, Daisy,” Stefan said in a somber tone. “You have been an unexpected delight in my life, and I will always cherish those memories, as I will always be grateful to you for restoring my mortality. But I think the time has come for us to part ways.”

“What?” I stared at him. “Are you
breaking up
with me?”

“You’re not truly in love with me, Daisy,” Stefan said gently. “Nor I with you. How long do you think it would take us to discover that this violent attraction we have felt no longer exists now that I am free from the curse of being Outcast? How much our passion was fueled by danger?”

“That’s not fair!” I protested. “Stefan, you have to give us a chance! At least we have one now.”

“And then there is the matter of the wolf,” he continued.

“My feelings for Cody—”

“I know what you feel for Cody,” Stefan interrupted me. “And I know what he feels for you. Atop the dune, he did not hesitate. Against all reason, he trusted you.” He rubbed his shoulder. “I bear the mark of his teeth in my flesh as a reminder,” he said wryly. “I am quite sure that wolf is in love with you.”

I was silent.

Stefan swirled the port in his glass. “You know I am right, Daisy.”

“It doesn’t change anything,” I murmured. “I’ll never be a suitable mate.”

“I think you may find that the wolf is ready to make that determination for himself,” he said. “You should go to him.”

I gazed at Stefan. “You seem awfully sure about this.”

He smiled a little. “I am.”

“What about you?” I asked. “What will you do with your life?”

“Oh, I plan to travel.” He raised his glass and sipped his port. “For all that I have lived in this world for centuries, there is so much of it I have not seen, having been tied to places with an underworld. I would see the rest of it. And I would return to places I have been to reunite
with old friends. Those of us who have been Outcast for so long may help each other learn to live in this new world.”

“So you’d just totally abandon the life you’ve built here in Pemkowet?” I said. “Forever?”

Stefan hesitated. “I cannot say. That life has changed. But a piece of my heart will always reside here,” he said. “And a part of you will always reside in my heart.”

So there you have it.

That was that.

I hashed it out with Jen the next night over pizza and beer, after making her promise that no matter what, the evening wouldn’t end in drunken texting.

“I can’t believe you’re still holding that against me,” Jen complained. “Okay, so how
do
you feel about Cody? Is the hot ex-ghoul right? Are you in love with him?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I mean . . . Cody confuses me. He
annoys
me. That whole back-and-forth, dithering I-want-you-but-I-can’t-have-you business is seriously annoying.”

“Yes, it was,” Jen agreed. “But what if he really
is
ready to choose you over his clan?”

“It’s not like he’s said so,” I pointed out.

Jen shrugged. “He’s recovering from a gunshot wound, girlfriend. Cut him some slack. Also, as far as Cody knows, you’re still with Stefan. Maybe he’s honoring the Bro Code.”

“Maybe he should have tried to fight for me,” I countered.

“
Maybe
that’s exactly what he was doing when he charged through a line of heavily armed mercenary soldiers to take a bite out of the hot ex-ghoul so you could go ahead and very nearly bring the end-time upon us,” Jen retorted.

She had a point.

So I paid a visit to Cody the next day.

Cody was convalescing at home, and he greeted me at the door in a pair of faded jeans and a threadbare flannel shirt, his face brightening at the sight of me. “Hey, Daise! Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” I felt awkward. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Good.” Hoisting his shirt, Cody showed me the white bandages wrapped around his torso. “My sister-in-law Jeanne changed the dressing this morning. She says it’s healing cleanly. Can you come in for a minute?”

“Sure.” I followed him into the house.

“Can I get you anything? Beer? Glass of water?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

Cody padded into his living room on bare feet, turning off the football game on the television. “Sorry, it’s a bit messy in here,” he apologized, folding the hideous orange and brown crocheted blanket that lay crumpled on the couch, then straightening a stack of DVD cases sprawled across the steamer trunk that served as a table. “I’ve just been holed up watching TV and videos.”

“That’s okay.” I sat on the couch. “You’re entitled. Not the
Saw
movies, I hope?”

He grinned. “No. God, no. Once was enough. But I watched the whole
Fast & Furious
franchise.”

“Figures,” I said.

Cody eased himself onto the couch beside me. “Don’t knock them until you’ve tried them, Pixy Stix.”

“Cody . . .” I hesitated. “Why did you do it? Attack Stefan, I mean?”

He looked away. “Are you asking me to answer for my wolf? I’m not sure I can, Daise.”

“Did your wolf even know what I was
doing
?” I asked.

Cody gave a slight shrug. “Is he okay? Ludovic? I know I drew blood.”

“Stefan’s fine,” I said in exasperation. “He’s fine and he’s mortal and he broke up with me, and
you’re
not answering my question.”

He stole a glance at me. “He broke up with you?”

“Yes,” I said. “Stefan Ludovic and I are no longer together. Now, will you please tell me what I want to know?”

Gazing at the ceiling, Cody blew out his breath. “You want to know why, Daise? It’s because it’s not just
this
shape that has feelings for you. It’s all of me.” He looked directly at me, a hint of phosphorescent green flashing behind his topaz eyes. “That’s what I learned out there in
the
dunes. My wolf? It chose you, too. And yes, it knew what you were doing. We knew.
I
knew.”

“Jesus, Cody! I could have destroyed the world,” I whispered.

Cody nodded. “Yeah. But maybe a world where I couldn’t have you wasn’t worth living in anyway. Anyway, you didn’t. I trusted you, okay? I promised you, no matter what, I’d always have your—”

That’s all he got out before I grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him, long and hard and deep.

It felt good.

“Ow!” Cody winced. “Stitches.”

Oops. I wasn’t quite sure when or how I’d straddled him. “Sorry.”

His hands caressed my back. “It’s okay. Totally worth it.”

Settling onto Cody’s lap, I gazed down at him. “What about the clan?”

Narrowing his eyes, Cody smiled up at me. “The clan can go fuck itself. How’s that, Pixy Stix?”

I smiled back at him. “Not bad.”

Fifty-seven

I
t’s funny how things turned out.

If real life was like a fairy tale, Stefan and I would have had the happy-ever-after ending, since all the obstacles that divided us had been magically swept away.

Cody and I . . . not so much.

For one, the Fairfax clan was furious over Cody’s decision, although they did stop short of ostracizing him. Apparently I’d gained some serious clout in the process of saving Pemkowet by almost destroying the world; which was ironic, since that leverage was gone forever. But the fact that I’d been willing—or crazy enough—to do it in the first place had earned grudging respect.

Eldritch and their love of hierarchy. Go figure.

And then of course there was the fact that Cody and I were what we were: a hell-spawn and a werewolf. For the rest of my life, assuming we stayed together, I’d lose him to the full moon once a month. Cody would spend his life never knowing what it was like to hunt with his mate beneath the full moon. As far as we knew, having kids wasn’t an option.

Maybe it wouldn’t work in the long run. Who knew? There were no guarantees.

And yet being with Cody felt right.

No regrets, though. If Stefan and I hadn’t had our affair, I’d always have wondered what it would have been like. And frankly, the highlights had been pretty mind-blowing. I didn’t feel like a schoolgirl with a crush around Cody anymore. I felt like a grown-ass woman with some pretty strong ideas of what I wanted out of a relationship, in and out of the bedroom.

Along with sorting out my love life, I spent my time updating the X-Files and the Pemkowet Ledger, and assessing the damage the war had wrought in both the mundane and the eldritch communities.

I reassured everyone I encountered in town that the war really was over and that the Wild Hunt wouldn’t return.

I hung out with Skrrzzzt, drinking beer and playing
Battleship
, complimenting him on the emerging regrowth of his arm.

I tracked down the hobgoblins’ den—my status among the fey had risen, and an obliging snowdrop fairy led me to it without a single insult—to offer my condolences.

I sat in silence with the surviving troll, whose name was Blunthuf, grieving for the loss of his mate.

The one thing I didn’t do was visit Little Niflheim. I didn’t know how badly the interior of Yggdrasil II had been damaged by the drone strike, and I didn’t want to intrude while the world tree was healing.

Hel always knew where to find me. She would summon me when she wanted me.

Persephone kept her word and deeded the property back to the City of Pemkowet with the stipulation that it could never be sold without Hel’s explicit approval. Not only that, the contract included a provision stating that Hel’s liaison be granted oversight of the territory and paid a monthly stipend.

It wasn’t a huge amount, but it was enough to pay my rent and bills, and even set a bit aside for a rainy day . . . and actually, for me, that
was
huge. For the first time in my life, I opened a savings account.

The tri-community councils and boards held a second town meeting to decide whether or not to appeal the decision in the lawsuit. Now that the community was flush, Lurine declined to repeat her offer to
underwrite the legal costs of an appeal. Unsurprisingly, the members of our local governments decided that a bird in the hand was better than two in the bush, and voted to quit while they were ahead, using proceeds of the sale of Hel’s territory to pay the damages and split the extra five million dollars among them.

Too bad.

Among other things, it meant that the legal precedent of holding mundane authorities accountable for the actions of the eldritch would stand. I hoped we wouldn’t have cause to regret that someday.

It was a balmy spring evening, a month after the war, when Hel finally sent for me. Spring had been especially early and lush in Pemkowet that year, perhaps because of Persephone’s brief presence there. The grass was turning green and there was a haze of budding leaves on all the trees. The woods were filled with trillium and sunny yellow dandelions dotted the meadows. Gardens rioted with daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips, front yards blazed with azaleas blossoming in a multitude of hues—coral, scarlet, fuchsia, hot pink, orange, yellow, and white.

In fact, I was at Cody’s, standing in his front yard in the soft twilight and discussing planting some azaleas there when the dune buggy pulled into his driveway.

It made my heart ache to see a frost giant—actually, it was a frost giantess—who wasn’t Mikill climb out of the buggy. It had always been Mikill who’d come for me.

“Daisy Johanssen,” the frost giantess boomed, raising her left hand to reveal the rune etched on it. “My name is Geirdís. I am bid to summon you to an audience with Hel.”

I held up my left hand in acknowledgment. “I’ll be right with you. Cody, can I borrow a warm jacket?”