Move Me (14 page)

She laughed with her hand pressed to her
bosom, entertained by her memories. Her blue eyes twinkled as
brightly as a woman’s half her age.

“You married,” Belle said.

“Sure I did. And I love my husband. That
doesn’t mean I can’t keep a naughty dream or two to myself.”

Belle considered this. “I don’t think I could
do that,” she said slowly. “I think I gave him my heart for
good.”

Mrs. J patted Belle’s hand the same way her
daughter would have. “So be it then. As long as you don’t spend
your whole life moping, you’ve a right to your own choices.”

Belle thought about that too. Her body felt
lighter, as if saying the truth aloud had lifted off a burden. “I’m
glad you shared this with me.”

Mrs. J’s smile turned rueful. “I almost
talked about it after Danny went missing. In stories, the fair folk
do sometimes steal children.”

“No one would have believed you. And what
good would it have done if they had? My uncle was nuts enough to
believe, but he couldn’t get Danny back.”

Mrs. J heaved a sigh of acknowledgment. “So,”
she said, pushing to her feet again. “Let’s see what that junky old
stove can do.”

It could do quite a lot with Mrs. J babying
it. Belle watched what she did as closely as she could, what with
the other intriguing topic she’d given her to mull over. Faeries
had traveled to Kingaken before, with or without her uncle’s help.
Maybe Isaiah had heard stories, and they’d sparked his seemingly
off-the-wall fixation. The idea of pursuing the same path that he
had didn’t seem very smart. Hoping, though, might not be as deluded
as she’d thought.

~

Belle decided there was nothing like a
crackling fire and a living room full of laughing people. Susi and
her family were at her house for Christmas Eve afternoon. John
Feeney had shown up, plus - surprisingly enough - his laconic
cousin Bob and his humorously broody brood. Some interesting
blushes were being exchanged between Jaime and Bob’s slightly less
surly teenage daughter. She’d turned a hand-knitted reindeer
sweater into a punk masterpiece with nothing more than a pair of
scissors and many safety pins. Belle and Mrs. J had baked a
mountain of sweets, and Belle’s solo effort at pecan drop cookies
thankfully passed muster. Preparing the homemade eggnog was a
breeze by comparison. Susi’s husband spiked it with rum for the
adults, and even dour John Feeney grew cheerful after a cup of
it.

Belle was cheerful herself. Her last-minute
wardrobe choice was the skimpy dress she’d found in the attic the
night she and Duvall met. Because the neckline was a bit
aiyiyi
for a family gathering, she’d paired it with a black
cardigan. The vintage silk caressed her underneath, her secret
reminder of sweetness.

To make the day truly perfect, a gentle snow
fell outside the icicle-draped windows.

“Your tree is so beautiful!” Susi exclaimed
for the umpteenth time. “Those antique ornaments are genius.”

“Finding them at the secondhand shops was
fun. Of all the businesses around here, they seem to be doing
well.” Belle paused, her heart rate accelerating in anticipation of
her announcement. She strove to sound casual. “I’m thinking I might
start my own.”

Susi had been petting her six-year-old
daughter’s hair and watching the tree. Now she turned her full
wide-eyed attention onto Belle. “Really?”

“Your mom said she’d let me hire her for
consulting.”

“Mom!” Susi exclaimed, giving her mother’s
plump knee a smack. “You might have said.”

“I don’t tell you everything, dear,” Mrs. J
said calmly.

Mr. J expressed his hope that this would
result in his wife spending a few less hours per month baking pies,
not realizing Belle was hoping to sell them in her future shop.
Faeries weren’t the only ones who’d consider them a draw.

“But this means Belle is staying!” Susi said.
“It’s such wonderful news.”

If her daughter hadn’t been curled up in her
lap, Belle was sure she’d have hopped up to hug her.

“I’m glad you’re glad,” Belle said. “You’re a
big part of the reason why. The city has its perks, but I missed my
BFF.”

“Aw,” Susi said. “You’re going to make me
cry.”

Jaime groaned teenager-style as the doorbell
rang. A tingle swept Belle’s body, as if a sparkling wave of snow
were being blown across her skin.

“Did you invite someone else?” Susi asked
curiously.

“No.” Belle had been leaning on the back of
the leather couch, wanting to leave the seats for guests. When she
turned to face the door, nothing but a rag rug lay between her and
it.

Don’t get your hopes up
, she warned as
a pulse sprang up in her throat. Never mind she’d dressed for the
man who had won her heart. She didn’t have a single reason to think
Duvall would - or even could - come back.

“Well,
answer
it,” Bob’s retro-punk
daughter Carly joked. “Maybe it’s the spirit of Christmas
past.”

Calling herself an idiot, Belle did as she
was advised.

For the second time since she’d returned to
Kingaken, she found a stranger on her front porch.

He stood over six foot tall and was bundled
for cold weather in a dark wool coat and striped scarf. He had a
wonderful face - not handsome, exactly, but full of character and
intelligence, giving the impression of a young man with an old
soul. She glanced behind him, but didn’t see another car. He must
have walked up the steep tree-lined drive, though his long lanky
legs would make that less of a chore. Snow had collected on his
brown hair, which fell to wide shoulders. He swept the white off
with leather gloves, his grin baring bright, slightly gapped front
teeth.

“Hey, Tinker Belle,” he said.

Belle gasped at the familiarity of his voice
- and the nearly forgotten nickname. “Danny?” she managed to croak
out.

She probably came the closest she ever had to
fainting.

He caught her into a bear hug, sparing her
from discovering what that was like. He’d gotten so big, not a
skinny squirt anymore. Both of them were crying as they embraced.
Despite the tears, joy fizzed like champagne inside her. This was
Danny. Her brother had come back to her.

“How can it be you?” Belle pushed back far
enough to see his miraculous grown-up face. Now that she was
looking, she could see the nine-year-old in his features: the
bright green eyes lit up by her porch light, the scattering of
freckles on the bridge of his ski slope nose. He looked more like
their father than she did, but his hair was the same chestnut brown
as hers, ruler straight and impossible to style.

He smiled, taking in the changes in her as
well. “It’s a long story,” he said, sounding tired as he brushed
her tears off with the thumb of his glove. “One I’m going to have
to tell you privately.”

He shot a meaningful glance behind her. Belle
belatedly realized they had a very attentive audience peering out
from the living room. She let out a breathy laugh. “I hope you have
something
up your sleeve to tell them. They’re not going to
let you off without answering.”

Danny did have a tale prepared, and
fortunately he’d always been a convincing liar. Apart from Bob
Feeney’s wife and kids, everyone knew at least vaguely who Danny
was. His mysterious disappearance had been big news in the tiny
town. He confirmed what had been a popular if farfetched theory:
that a couple of tourists who’d lost a child spotted him in
Isaiah’s yard while they were hiking through the woods. Reminded of
the son who’d died, they’d abducted him, keeping him a virtual
prisoner in their remote Colorado home. Danny said he hadn’t been
mistreated, and eventually he’d adjusted. Only when the couple were
killed in an accident did he decide to see if he could come
home.

“Wow,” Carly Feeney said once he’d finished.
“That is, like, wicked weird. Nobody would believe it if it hadn’t
actually happened.”

“I expect not,” Danny said wryly. “I hope
people will understand if I don’t want to talk about it too
much.”

Everyone exclaimed that of course they did, a
politeness Belle doubted anyone really meant. The pretense served
their purposes well enough. After shedding his coat and accepting a
quick round of hugs from Susi’s relations, she and Danny escaped
upstairs.

As if they were still kids, they clutched
each other’s hands all the way to the second floor. Letting go at
the landing, Danny walked into Uncle Lucky’s former room, where he
sat somewhat absently on the bed. Belle shut the door so they would
have privacy.

“This is different,” he said, gripping the
mattress edge with a nervousness she recognized from way back -
usually when
she
was about to catch hell from their parents
for some misdeed. His eyes took a tour of the furnishings before
coming back to her. “I guess the old coot left the place to
you.”

“He would have left it to you if he knew how
to bring you back.”

His expression twisted at her words.

“I know, Danny,” she said. “I know you were
sucked through a magic door. You don’t have to worry about me not
believing.”

“It wasn’t his fault, Belle. Uncle Lucky
warned me not to mess with his stuff when he wasn’t there. I was
just so sure I knew how to make that spell circle work.”

Belle dragged a refurbished armchair close to
the bed and sat. She leaned forward over her knees. “So what
happened? Where were you all these years?”

Danny pulled one hand down his face. “I was
in Faerie, or as I came to call it: The Land of Self-Induced
Alzheimer’s.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Magic is real there, Belle. Like a living,
breathing fairytale. It happens on a daily basis, not just now and
then like here. The problem is, Faerie isn’t stable. Countries go
to war over what the rules of magic ought to be, whatever favors
the ruling party’s particular talents, basically. If the conflict
gets too bad, the territory falls into magical anarchy. It’s
dangerous. Bad things can happen to a lot of people, and since most
of them are big mojo faeries, they think they shouldn’t have to
stub their toes. If a faerie takes a real hurt, like losing a loved
one, they have a tendency to erase themselves rather than wait to
get over it.”

“Erase themselves?”

“They do a spell to take away the memory of
the bad thing. Sometimes they erase their whole lives. They feel
better, but it tends to make the place chaotic. Let me tell you,
the first time you wake up and someone who was your friend suddenly
doesn’t remember you, it’s disconcerting.”

“It sounds it,” Belle said.

He looked at her, a whole history she hadn’t
shared shadowing his eyes. Seeing her notice, he shook himself. “I
shouldn’t complain. Where I ended up was hardly the worst of the
territories. People treated me well. I was valuable to them.
Because the human world is less changeable, bringing us into their
realm helps anchor their reality - once they arrange it the way
they like. They were very careful not to erase that knowledge.”

“You
were
a prisoner,” she breathed.
“You didn’t make that part up.”

Danny rocked his weight back and forth. “I
didn’t realize it at first. I was having a lot of fun. I was a kid,
and I was living out my own sword and sorcery fantasy. When I
finally got a clue that they were using me, I felt betrayed, but it
was too late. I didn’t know how to get back again.”

Belle reached out to squeeze his knee.
Shoulders bowed, he wagged his head and went on. “The faeries
offered to take away my memories more than once. They said I’d feel
better if I didn’t remember you and home. I couldn’t do it. Being
me, staying me, seemed like the only thing I could take pride in.
I’d been so stupid. I knew how much I must have hurt you. What
right did I have not to feel bad?”

“Oh Danny.”

Her grown-up little brother wiped fresh tears
from his face. “I know. You wouldn’t have wanted me to suffer. I
made that choice for me.”

“I’m glad you did. I’m glad you’re still you.
And I’m really glad to see you again.”

He drew a breath that straightened his spine.
Belle decided he was ready for the question that had been bursting
to get out since she realized it was him.

“How did you get back here?”

He started to speak, then paused, needing to
compose his thoughts.
God
, she prayed, her heart clutching,
I know You’ve given me a huge blessing here, but please don’t
let this be bad news.

“Belle,” he finally said, “I know how you are
sometimes, but he saved my life more than once. Please don’t be mad
at him.”

“
Him
?” she repeated through her tight
throat.

“Your friend Duvall. He came after me through
the portal, tracked me halfway across Faerie, and then led me out
safely. There are creatures in faerie no human would want to meet
alone, and we had to get past them. I know he should have told you
why he was leaving before he disappeared, but he thought he was
protecting you.”

Belle grabbed Danny’s arm so tightly she
startled him. “He’s all right? He isn’t dead or hurt?”

This wasn’t the reaction Danny was expecting.
“Uh,” he said. “He’s waiting in the car to see if you want to talk
to him.”

“What car? Here, you mean? Like right outside
this house?”

She leaped to her feet, adrenaline causing
her heart to feel like it would beat out of her veins. Danny shut
his gaping mouth. “He’s parked at the bottom of Uncle Lucky’s
drive. We leased a rental car outside Resurrection. The cars inside
the Pocket don’t run on human gas.”

Belle had no idea what this meant and frankly
didn’t care. He was here. She had to go to him. She turned in an
addled circle, her brain refusing to guide her to her next
action.

“I have to go to him,” she said.