“Of course.”
Marley got nothing out of that bland reply or his neutral expression, so she picked a direction at random and started moving away from the others. Ian caught her eye from where he talked something over with Diego, and the contact felt like a bolstering smile, though his expression didn’t really change.
It felt good to stretch her legs after the long hours of sitting and the tension of the meeting, but that gave way to another tension, and an uncomfortable silence built between them as Harm matched his stride to hers. She’d made the invite. He was waiting for her to start. Marley wondered, if she and Ian stayed, would this awkwardness ever go away?
“I want to apologize.” The words came out in a rush. “When I first got here, I said some things—”
“There’s no need for that,” he interrupted, his voice clipped and gruff. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You were hurt and afraid.”
“I was also pissed and trying to hurt you. I’m sorry for that.”
“It’s less than I deserve. I did abandon you. To a point it doesn’t matter why.”
Marley felt a little punch to her chest to hear him say it so baldly. She hadn’t expected the admission to hurt her. There’d been enough hurting, enough pain on both sides, but she had to bring it up. “Ian told me about Charon. About what you did after they killed Mom.” Her hand hovered just above his arm, but she couldn’t touch him. Not yet. She let it drop. “It matters why.”
“Walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Staying away was almost worse. But I couldn’t risk that they’d find you. I knew, in intimate detail, exactly what they could do to a child. I couldn’t have borne it.”
“I get it.” She had to cut him off because it was too hard to hear that note in his voice that spoke of the things he had seen, both real and imagined. “You did what you thought was best. I could say ‘I just wish I had known the truth,’ that somebody wanted me, that I wasn’t thrown away—”
“Marley.”
“But I don’t really know if it would have mattered.” Because my childhood sucked so much. In ways you could never have guessed or you would have come for me. You would have found another way. You would have taken care of me. She didn’t say it, bit the inside of her mouth to keep from saying it, but she wanted to tell him. Not to hurt him with it but…because he was her dad.
“I can’t…I don’t really have the words to tell you how much I regret it. All of it. I just didn’t know any other way.”
The words hung between them and the silence grew thick again until they reached the barn. “There’s still one big thing I don’t understand.” Marley focused on the horses, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “If you had this place, why didn’t you ever come get me? Wouldn’t I have been safe here then as I should be now?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Explain it to me.”
“Well, to start with, I didn’t know for sure if Charon was really gone. Scum like that, you cut off one head, another rears up to take its place. All I knew for sure was that if I came after you, they’d come after us, and they’d hurt you. That’s what I knew. Can you understand that? It was years before I could accept that I’d actually done what I set out to do.”
“And then?”
He laid his hands on the split rail of the corral and watched the animals milling around inside. “By that time it had been so long. And the block I’d had put in your mind… You didn’t remember me. I convinced myself you were better off where you were—”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Marley, you were an adult by that time. You were building a life. I told myself you wouldn’t thank me for showing up after all those years, trying to butt in and be a father.”
“That was cowardice.” She didn’t know why she said it. She hadn’t meant to.
“Yeah, it was.”
She shoved her hands through her hair and turned to the horses, leaning on the rail, hiding her face against her arms and feeling like crap. She was so damned tired of feeling like crap. And of being angry. And of not having a dad.
She could change that. Finally, that choice was hers to make.
“I’d have gotten over it.” She said it softly, as gently as she knew how. “I would have let you in.”
In the silence, Marley could hear him swallow his struggle to take that in. All the years, all the wasted time hurt him as much as it hurt her. The regret that ate at him was something she could feel, pulsing, ugly and mean. She didn’t want it to have the power to keep hurting them both.
Marley blew out a breath. She had to be the one to make it okay. Reaching out, she stroked a hand down the velvety nose of the mare nudging for attention. “I’d have gotten over it quicker if you gave me a pony.”
“Done!” His exclamation was a rough bark of laughter that broke the tension between them.
Marley looked over at him and smiled. He seemed…easier. Even the silence between them felt lighter and warmer than before.
“C’mon. There’s something else I want to give you.”
Marley followed him to a cabin nestled in the woods edging the town. Unlike many of the others they’d passed, it didn’t have a garden or curtains or any other individuating, homey touches. But the windows sparkled and the door, when he opened it, didn’t squeak.
The space was spartan, one room with the rough, wide-planked floors she was starting to recognize throughout Clementine. Clean-lined wood furniture that still held the yellow of fresh timber, simple but beautiful pieces she was sure he’d made himself. The table with four chairs were the only seating other than the bed dominating the opposite side of the room. A cast iron stove took up another corner. The quilt on the bed and the rag rug on the floor were the only things softening the space. No knick knacks, artwork, anything that wasn’t utilitarian.
Harm crossed the room to the chest at the foot of the bed. Lifting the lid, he reached inside. “I’ve been holding on to it all these years, keeping it safe for you.” He drew out a doll, cheeks bright pink with marker.
“Natalie!” Marley’s voice came out raw, strangled with a combination of surprise, pain, and too many other things to process. She found herself standing in the middle of the room, clutching the doll to her chest, and feeling like her dad was her hero. It was more than she knew how to cope with. “How?”
“I got her back when I avenged your mother.” His voice managed to be somehow harsh and gentle. “I need you to know that I saw to that. That bastard didn’t live.”
Marley nodded, clinging to the doll and fighting tears. Following instinct, she moved forward, into him, burying her head on his chest and letting the tears fall on his shirt. Harm’s arms came around her, tentative and awkward.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered.
Harm shuddered once, then his arms tightened around her. “Welcome home, baby.”
~*~
Surrounded by a field of blueprints, Marley hunched over a notebook and scrawled more calculations. Frowning over the result, she checked a measurement on one of the blueprints and made a minor adjustment before stabbing at the calculator again.
The soft kiss on her shoulder had her jolting. “Time for a break, love.”
A break? She couldn’t take a break. There was too much at stake. “I just need to finish this—”
Ian plucked the chewed pencil from her hand and drew her to her feet. “Time. For. A break. You’ve done the work three times over.”
With an anxious glance at the half-finished equations, she said, “What if something goes wrong?”
He framed her face in his hands, forced her to meet his calm eyes. “Then it won’t be for lack of due diligence on your part. Come for a walk with me.” To settle the matter, Ian kept her hand in his and pulled her out the door.
Marley was startled to realize the day was more than half gone. The two weeks of recon and planning had been at once endless and ephemeral. Tomorrow their plan would be put into motion. Afte
r that…well, it was the after she was having trouble believing in. They’d done the work, spent the time to ensure a solid foundation for the mission. But so much was riding on their success. It was a one shot deal, and she couldn’t help feeling there was something they hadn’t thought of, some angle they hadn’t considered. Which was why she’d been up to her eyeballs in blueprints and calculations since before five that morning.
Milan stood in front of the saloon, a picnic hamper and blanket at her feet. With a hundred megawatt smile, she held them out to Ian. “Everything you asked for. Enjoy!”
“Thanks.” He accepted them both and kept moving.
Marley twisted around to eye the pretty cook, who beamed back with a wave before heading back into the saloon.
“That,” Marley said, “was the look of a woman in collusion. You’re up to something.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Ian. “We have to eat and you need to relax, so we’re having a picnic. Simple as that.”
Maybe it was that simple. Maybe she was over-thinking every damn thing because she was nervous about the mission. It was hard to hang on to that as they made their way up the slope. She had to focus on footing and hand-holds.
“Another time, we’ll ride up, but I thought the climb would do you good,” said Ian.
“Climb to where?”
“To here,” he said, tugging her over the last rise.
Marley forgot about everything else as they stepped into the clearing. “Oh my God.” The Bitterroot Mountains spread out like a visual banquet before them. Endless green against a sky so blue it almost hurt. She tugged away to wander, trying to drink in everything at once. Somewhere in the distance, she could see a ribbon of river, but there wasn’t a single sign of civilization, not even evidence of Clementine, hidden below. Her fingers itched for charcoals and chalk. “The light up here is amazing. Why didn’t you tell me to bring my sketchpad?”
“Because I wanted your undivided attention. There will be plenty of time for drawing later.”
Later.
With that one word, her mood plummeted, anxiety cranking back up. She turned back to Ian. “You really believe that?”
He crossed to her, took her hands. The contact settled her. “Aye, I believe that. It’s why I brought you up here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.” He smiled and turned her to face the river view. “Your studio should go here, to take advantage of the northern light.”
“My what?”
“Look.”
The walls rose around them, the golden timber all but glowing in the light that shone through the wide bank of windows. An artist’s drafting table materialized in one corner, beside another table covered with paints, pencils, and jars of brushes. Canvases were stacked neatly against the wall, and an easel stood to one side, where it caught the light filtering down from the skylights. With every detail, Marley felt her heart swell, her throat tighten.
“It’s wonderful,” she breathed.
Ian led her through a doorway and into the main living space with the big farmhouse table and comfortable chairs grouped in front of more big windows that capitalized on the glorious views to the west. The ceilings were vaulted, and a magnificent stone fireplace dominated one wall. He pulled her out the front door and onto a wide-planked porch. “We’ll put a swing here to sit and watch the sunset. Because there will be time for sunsets, after the day’s work is done.” As he spoke, the swing came into being with colorful pillows propped against the wooden slats. Simple. Inviting. As the cabin and the life he built for her with words and illusion were simple and inviting.
Ian didn’t linger. Instead, he tugged her back inside and up the stairs to a loft with a huge, sumptuous bed and more windows open to the view. “The bedroom up here. There’s room downstairs to expand for children.”
Marley stumbled, feeling her heart knock hard against her breastbone at the idea of it. “Children?”
Ian pulled her the rest of the way into the room and took both her hands again. His usually guarded face was open, his eyes serious. “Yes, children. I love you, Marley. You are the first person to truly see me, not what I am. You gave me the gift of feeling human again, and you make me believe, for the first time since I was Made, that I can have the kind of life I gave up on centuries ago. I want that life, and all that goes with it, with you. We’re already bound on a level most people will never understand, but I was a man first, and I want to formalize it in a way that speaks to the man you make me remember how to be. I want to marry you, have a family with you, make a home with you. Here, in this spot, where the light guilds the trees and puts stars in your eyes.”
Everything she’d thought she would never have, could never have, he was offering. And more. She felt dizzy and weak as she looked into that beloved face. “It’s not the light. You dazzle me, Ian.”
“Is that a ‘yes’, then?”
Marley laughed and leaped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and fusing her mouth to his. He staggered a bit, but caught and held her fast. All the joy and love she felt surged into the bond between them. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Glad you cleared that up. I wasn’t positive.” He grinned.
She framed his face. “Thank you. For giving me your faith and making me believe in After.”
“I never wanted an after until you.”
Marley took another look around the house he’d built with his mind. “It’s a pretty amazing after,” she said. “I’ve got a question for you, though.”
“What’s that?”
“How real is that bed?”
Ian’s smile spread, slow and wicked. “As real as you want it to be.”
As he circled her closer to it, Marley remembered the picnic. “Oh, but what about dinner?”
“It’ll keep,” he assured her, and tumbled her into the sea of pillows.
Chapter 16
“You’ll never get away with this,” growled Ian.
Across the dusty space, Harm stood, a gun in one hand and a detonator in the other. Behind him, circled like terrified cattle, a half dozen hostages were tied back to back with bombs strapped to their chests. Behind them, four other members of the Underground stood watch, assault rifles in hand. Lead lines led to canisters of thermite scattered throughout the floor of the condemned building, piggy-backing on the explosives already put in place for the planned demolition tomorrow, ensuring the whole goddamned thing would be obliterated at the push of a button. They had the perfect setup. Ian was beginning to wonder if it was all for naught.
The squad should’ve arrived by now. He’d contacted Auggie, told him he’d gotten a bead on the remainder of the cell that had killed Nico and asked for backup. He was banking on the lingering bonds of squad loyalty to override the other man’s natural caution and adherence to protocol. But he had expected better response time.
The hostages’ terror was palpable. The bitter scent of their sweat-slicked skin coated the back of his throat, and the haze of purple clouded the room. His own skin was clammy from the memories he’d tapped to create the illusion. All the old anxieties, all the strain of that last mission, were stirred back up. He fed them back into the hostages, adding an extra layer of authenticity to the scene. But the whole thing was draining him. This illusion was much more detailed, much more complex than the forest fire he’d conjured in North Dakota. Though they’d run test scenarios earlier in the week, he wondered how long he could keep this up.
Maybe Auggie suspected a trap. Or maybe he’d actually gone to his ops commander as protocol dictated.
“Please don’t do this,” begged Marley. She was all but in tears. The contrast to the faint cast of nerves and determination of her actual emotional state was striking. She was quite the actress when need be.
Ian’s senses pinged.
There. Two. Three. Four. A single squad, their emotional grids conspicuous by dint of how little they projected. He recognized only one profile. Augg
ie, running point. The group of them were at the periphery. Ian could just sense them. So could Marley.
“There has to be some other way,” she insisted. The signal.
Showtime.
“It’s quite simple,” Harm said. “If your boyfriend over there wants to join us, he has to prove himself by killing the hostages. This is how we operate. He has to prove his loyalty.”
Some of the lower floors of the building had walls, but this one had obviously been a cubicle farm during its lifetime. A series of load bearing columns were the only interruption to the open floor plan. The electricity was already cut off, so there were plenty of shadows for the squad to navigate, splitting into two lines, edging around the hostages, the guards. Which meant they were definitely seeing the illusion. Excellent.
“How the hell does killing innocent people prove my loyalty to you?” Ian demanded.
“Innocent?” Harm sneered. “Don’t be ridiculous. They aren’t innocent. They’re Council drones. Following orders, just like you did before you had the sense to defect. Carrying out the Council’s agenda without question. They’re cogs in the machine. You take them out, you slow the Council down, show you don’t support their politics.”
A couple of the female hostages cried out.
Harm swung around, pointing the gun at the nearest one’s head. “Shut up!”
Ian’s hands fisted reflexively, and he took a step closer, a part of him needing to act, to stop this from happening again, though he was fully aware it wasn’t real.
The squad closed ranks, getting closer.
A fifth grid popped up, not part of the formation.
Four. There are always four. Who the hell is this? Ian attempted to identify this unexpected newcomer as he struggled to maintain the illusion and continue to play his part.
“Why not try to convert them to your cause? I saw the light, so can they.”
“They’ll say anything to stay alive. Nothing you get out of them would be the truth. The world will be better off without them in it.”