The Iron Thorn - Caitlin Kittredge [120]
I could do as Tremaine asked, but I was still afraid, if I were honest, that I wouldn’t be around to see the result. I’d just have to help him and his queens and pray my effort kept my friends safe.
“I had no idea,” Dean whispered.
I scrubbed the heel of my hand across my eyes. I’d cried over the situation enough. “Yes, well, it’s not a tidbit I go spreading around.”
Dean shifted, leaning down on his elbow so we were roughly perpendicular. “Cal know?”
I nodded, a small gesture because the memory still strangled me when it broke to the forefront. “He was there when my brother tried to kill me. On Conrad’s birthday.”
Cal held up his hands. Big and ungainly, like puppy paws. “Conrad, don’t hurt your sister. She’s all you have.”
Dean whistled. “So Conrad gave you that scar.”
I didn’t have to confirm his suspicions. Dean knew. “The virus incubated and it came out as madness,” I said. “He didn’t know what he was doing, Dean. He’s still my brother.”
Dean shook his head slowly. “That’s a hell of a thing, Aoife.”
“It’s your payment, Dean.” I smiled even though I felt more like screaming. The door hinges tensed, but I bit down hard on the inside of my cheeks, balled the Weird up inside my chest and kept it small. The door stayed where it was.
Rubbing his face with both hands, Dean shut his eyes. “I don’t want it. This is the kind of secret that never stops bleeding.”
“I can’t keep hiding from everyone in the world,” I said softly. “It’s becoming everything I am. Like a shadow that falls only on you even though the sun is out.” The stone of madness dogged my ankles even as I felt the Weird spurring me to fly, as it had in the cemetery tunnel.
“I don’t want it,” Dean said again. “You didn’t have to tell me this, even for payment. I …” But he trailed off, shoving a hand through his hair, so it fell every which way.
“I expect you’ll be leaving, then,” I said. “And I thank you for all of your help. Truly. I won’t inconvenience you any longer.” I felt the thickness of tears behind my eyes, and despised it. Some Gateminder I was, crying over a boy.
Dean stood up and went to the door, wiggling it experimentally as if it might decide to slam shut on his knuckles. “I get that you’ve had a lot of running out in your life, princess. A lot of empty rooms and doors slammed in your face. But you paid me fair and square, even if it’s not what I wanted, so dig this when I say it: I’m not leaving you alone. I don’t run out.”
For the first time that day, I managed a real, if wan, smile. I believed Dean when he made his promises, and I wanted to kiss him for it. Stone it, I wanted to kiss Dean Harrison for any old reason at all, but I settled for saying, “You’re one of the good ones, Dean.”
“I’m about as far from good as you can get without running into it again,” he said. “But I keep my bargains and my word is my bond.” He flashed me a smile that was far from his usual killer grin—no, he looked like any boy trying to find a way to ask a girl on a date without stumbling over his feet, his words, or both. I wondered if Dean had ever been that Dean, before he went to the heretics and started guiding in the Rustworks.
He came back and tousled the hair on top of my head, fingers spreading a little static electricity between us. “Rest, princess. It’s been a very long day.”
“Yes, it has indeed,” I said, but instead of obeying Dean I swung my legs over the bed and found my boots. “Could you get Bethina to make me some coffee?” The Weird had exhausted me, and I contemplated that if this was what I had to look forward to every time I tapped the enchantment in my blood, I was going to go through a lot of hot beverages.
“That’s pretty much the opposite of resting your bones,” Dean said. “But I don’t think we need to bother Bethina over a cuppa. I learned to brew a pretty good pot when my old man had the third shift at the foundry.”
“Good,” I said. “Because if I’m going to break Tremaine’s curse, I’m going