Resistance (31 page)

I hear Aodhan replying to him and look at Eir. “Who
is that?” I ask quietly.

Eirnin looks ridiculously confused at the change of
topic. “Who? Joan?” he asks, and I hear a laugh coming from
outside. That has to be him, I think. Who else could sound that
similar? Without another thought, I bounce off the bed and dash
into the hallway.

The man standing in front of Aodhan is not whom I
expected and I feel my heart sink a little before confusion spikes
through me. He looks almost identical. A little shorter and
beefier, but otherwise the prisoner back home and the man before me
could be twins. He looks at me with mild worry and I try to work
words from my mouth.

“That’s my Uncle Seamus,” Eir says, suddenly right
behind me. Aodhan looks confused and embarrassed by his presence
but doesn’t point it out. “He isn’t going to hurt you, Lu.”

“I didn’t think he was,” I say in a strangled voice.
Seamus’ brow furrows at me. “What did you say your last name was,
again?”

“Dolan, lass,” Seamus replies, and in that moment I
could’ve been knocked over with a feather. He sounds just like
him…

“D-Does the name ‘Patrick’ ring any bells to either
of you?” I ask before I can stop myself. This is too coincidental,
isn’t it? It’s impossible altogether to even think—

“Patrick is my father’s name,” Eir says. When I look
up at him he is scarily pale, watching me for answers. I feel like
I’m going to be sick.

“Can someone go get Fianna for me?” I ask. “And
Flint, too.”

Seamus looks really confused, but he pushes Aodhan
gently. “Would you go get them? I think they’re in the
library.”

The young man nods and runs past us like someone lit
him on fire. I clutch my head with both hands and try to block out
the voice yelling at me that this is completely and utterly
impossible right now.

I feel a hand brace against my side suddenly and look
up to see Eirnin studying me. “Are you alright?” he asks, and I
lower my hand to hold onto his arm. He looks so innocent right now.
How am I going to tell him what I believe to be true? It could
shatter them all.

“I’m okay,” I tell him quietly; squeezing his
forearm. Flint and Fi round the corner with Aodhan then, who rushes
past us to Sea. He pats his son’s back and looks at his niece and
her not-boyfriend.

“What’s going on?” Flint asks, and Fi bites down on
her tongue before she can echo him. She scratches her chin and
makes a show of stretching her jaw, as if Flint didn’t just steal
the words out of her mouth.

“I think we should head to the kitchen table,” I say,
glancing between Eirnin and Fi. “You two might want to sit down for
this.”

Chapter 21—Flint

July 2102

The sun is just creeping in the windows in the
bedroom when I hear a thump above my head, somewhere in the
library. Knowing full well Fi’s OCD has kicked in and she started
searching for journals without me (again), I let out a sigh and
decide the ass crack of dawn is as good a time as any to go help my
particularly stubborn friend dig through dusty old boxes. I groan
internally and roll out of bed; tugging on a pair of sweats before
exiting the room and heading up the stairs.

It’s cool in the library and I see that the large
windows are open slightly to let the morning breeze blow in. I hear
quiet swear words and clangs coming from the closet, and repress
the urge to laugh at what I’m about to see. Moving further into the
room I decide to call out, trying to warn her of my presence and
not startle her (thus, saving me from a stabbing). “Started without
me again, I see—” I cut off abruptly once I get in the doorway.
“What the hell are you doing?”

I was expecting to see a lot of things, but I wasn’t
expecting to see Fi climbing the bookshelves. Her toes are curled
on the edge of the third shelf, which has to be straining under the
extra hundred pounds. She’s holding onto the second shelf with one
hand and trying to tug a huge box over her head with the other.
When I speak, she jumps and the shelf wobbles. “For heaven’s sake,
Flint!”

I ignore her attempt to scold me for walking silently
and come up behind her, shaking my head. I reach up and brace one
hand on the back of her thigh, the other on her opposite calf. “Get
off of there before you break your damn neck.”

She tenses under my touch and abandons her box,
looking down at me over her shoulder. She’s flushed and trying to
make her mouth work, but I can’t seem to figure out why because of
my concern she’s going to kill herself accidentally. “I’m trying to
reach the boxes on the top shelf, Flint,” she says innocently, her
voice a bit higher than usual. “I was fine until you startled
me.”

“Love, that’s what a ladder is for.” I sound
exasperated even to my own ears. “C’mon, then, step down. I’ll get
them for you.”

“I forgot the ladder,” she says shyly; looking away
from me. “I didn’t want to go back downstairs. I’ve seen enough of
that cage in the basement for a lifetime.” She looks heavenward and
lets out a sigh, and finally her foot edges down to the lower
shelf. My hands move to her hips and I lower her to the floor; not
moving away from her until I’m sure she’s steady.

It’s then that my stupid, sleep deprived brain
realizes why she’s blushing. I have her pinned between a bookshelf
and myself, with one hand cupping her hipbone and the other on her
waist. She’s pressed so close to me that if I ducked my head, my
mouth would meet her neck, and I have to bite my tongue to keep
from doing just that. I could punch myself, but instead I take a
huge step backwards and give her some space. She coughs and drops
her head, and I say intelligently, “Good. Awesome. Um…”
Asshole
. “I’ll get it.” And then I run out of the room.

I swear to God I have never been this ridiculous. I
feel like my brain melted into a great big ball of wax the minute
my mouth met hers, and it hasn’t been working to full capacity
since. She hasn’t said anything about the kiss at all, and I get
the feeling she’d like to pretend it never happened. I can
understand that — Why would she want to date a faery anyway? — but
I still find myself trying to ignore the stinging feeling in my
chest when she’s unable to look me in the eye.

I pick up one of the wooden chairs beside the wall
and consider slamming it against my head for the thought. I’ve been
turned into an obsessive twelve-year-old with a crush on someone I
have no chance with, by a pair of gorgeous green eyes and long
black hair. What sucks even more is that it’s far past physical
attraction, and this emotional piffle is something I don’t know how
to ignore. I’ve recognized the girl is beautiful since the moment I
got here, but her heart is what drew me in. I have no idea how to
make the lightheartedness and ease she gives me stop.

All I can do at this point is try and follow her
lead, and hope she’ll stop looking at me like she thinks I’m a
pervert. I’d rather be her friend for the rest of my life than lose
her because I’m just plain stupid sometimes. I shake these thoughts
away and set the chair down where Fi was previously scaling the
walls and hop up on it. She’s still standing where I left her, but
her back is against the shelves now and she watches as I lift the
box off the shelf. Why anyone would put books in a box, I don’t
know. It makes it impossibly heavy and difficult to move. I don’t
share the fact that the thing weighs more than I do, of course, and
instead hop down and set it on the chair where I just stood. “See?”
I say breezily, pretending I didn’t almost just break my back.
“Much safer.”

She looks up at me and then at the box. “Thank you,”
she says quietly; sounding breathless and meeting my eyes once
again before she glances at my mouth. Again feeling like an
adolescent fool, I feel a spark of anxiety shoot up my spine and
catch my lip between my teeth. What the hell is she staring at me
like that for, anyway?

I need medication. She’s going to give me a heart
attack. I can feel it coming.

“So, um,” I say, again sounding very brilliant and
smooth. “No luck yet?”

Her face flames red again and she starts tapping her
lower lip, a habit that is not helping my brain. I remind myself I
really can’t pin her up against the shelves and kiss her senseless
again, even though there’s not much else I’d like to do. She shakes
her head. “Uh, no. Not yet. There aren’t any of Gran’s in here that
I’ve found yet. I keep hoping, though.”

“Well, we have plenty more boxes to look through. I’m
sure we’ll find something,” I tell her and she tries to smile at
me. I squeeze her shoulder. “How about I grab another box and we
start digging?”

She nods and I push the heavy box aside, climb back
up and grab one for me to look through, and we each start plowing
through the crates.

There isn’t a clock in the room so I don’t know how
much time has elapsed, but we each tackled three boxes and the sky
outside has gone from blue, to orange, to a slightly pinkish gray,
and we still haven’t said another word to each other. Fi found a
few journals that belonged to her dad, and I found countless
fiction novels (some of them far from PG), but nothing to suggest
we have instructions for the end of the world in our possession. Fi
is about to fall asleep in her current box when loud footfalls
approach and her head snaps up.

Aodhan pops his head in the room and gives us a
slightly disgusted look when he sees us on the floor, assuming he’s
interrupted something highly personal and I give him a disapproving
glare. Fi picks up the look too and flushes deeply. “What is it,
Aodhan?” she asks.

“Dad sent me,” he pants. “The princess and Eirnin
asked for you both.”

Fi looks at me questioningly. I shake my head to tell
her I have no idea what they need, and she gestures for Aodhan to
lead the way; jogging quickly down the steps. Lumi is standing
beside Eirnin looking even whiter than usual, and she keeps
glancing at Seamus in shock. Eirnin has a hand on her waist and the
size difference is startling. He whispers something to her and she
nods and softly says, “I’m okay.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, looking between the three
of them. Fi’s mouth snaps closed before she repeats me and she
nods, blushing for some reason.

Lumi looks at Fi with pity and I almost ask her
again. She swallows and shakes her head. “We should go to the
kitchen,” she says. “You two might want to sit down for this.”

Fi looks like she might be sick but nods anyway, and
we follow as Eir leads Lu to a seat after grabbing her a robe from
the bathroom to keep her covered, most likely reading her
discomfort over the tiny blue nightgown. He helps her sit down and
immediately takes the seat beside her, looking terrified she might
faint. I pull Fi’s chair out for her and she nods to me; sitting
down and bracing her hands on her lap. Seamus pats Aodhan on the
back. “You can head on home now, son. I’ll take care of her.”

Aodhan nods gratefully, looking half asleep, and
doesn’t even try to weasel his way into sticking around for
whatever information is about to be spilled. Fi makes sure the door
is closed behind him before looking to Lumi. “What’s going on?” she
asks.

Lumi looks lost. Her mouth opens and closes without
sound, and she keeps glancing at Seamus. “Your dad…” she says with
a sad look at Fi, but that’s all she manages.

The blood rushes out of Fi’s face so fast, I’m
surprised she doesn’t fall out of the chair. I take the seat next
to her and put a hand on her shoulder to steady her as she hits the
back of it. “What about my dad?” she asks just above a whisper.

Eirnin grabs Lumi’s hand under the table and she
starts, looking at him. “You can tell us,” he says just as
softly.

She bites her lip and nods; keeping her eyes on the
ground. “He’s…he’s not dead.” Fi’s jaw clenches and she grabs my
hand from her shoulder; hanging onto me and I squeeze her hand. She
looks like she’s going to cry. “He was alive when you guys came
and, um…got me.”

“I knew it,” Eirnin murmurs, mostly to himself and
looking close to tears.

“How can you be so sure?” Fi asks, grasping at
straws. “I mean, they could’ve just been saying that.”

Lu shakes her head. “His name is Patrick Dolan and he
looks just like Seamus. And he was always talking about his kids,
saying that he needed to get back to you and that he missed you. He
never told me names because he was worried someone would overhear
us and use you both against him.”

“So you talked to him personally?” I ask as Fi’s grip
on my hand tightens.

She nods and looks like she might cry, too. “I snuck
down there to see him all the time. Made sure he got food and
such.” She looks at her lap, probably at Eir’s hand. “He was always
so nice to me. Treated me like family and always told me not to get
in trouble on his account.”