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He thought she'd be angry, but instead she seemed resigned, like she'd expected him to turn on her. They flew through the night. Her shivering grew more pronounced, but she made no effort to use magic to warm herself. It was like she had given up. That irritated Shoftiel. But then he smiled. No doubt that was the point. Ruin his fun by dying before he could torture her. The angel wrapped her in a warming spell, her wordless protest confirming his conclusion.
Hours passed and at some point the witch fell asleep. She'd mostly stopped bleeding, and her heart beat strongly. What wounds she had wouldn't kill her before they reached their destination.
The sun was just rising when they arrived. Shoftiel circled. He dismissed the idea of dropping her again to wake her up, as amusing as it would be. Instead he nudged her awake with his knee. She stiffened as awareness returned.
"Where are we?"
"Home," he said.
She scowled. "Whose home?"
"Yours. And mine. I am moving in to Horngate for a while."
She twisted to gape at him. "What the hell are you talking about?" Then shook her head fiercely. "No way. Nobody wants you here."
"Which will only make me enjoy my stay more," he said. He smiled, anticipating the furor his arrival would cause. He had an ulterior motive, however. Horngate intrigued him, and he had a debt to pay to Max. It was the only way to clean his soul of unjust punishment. His smile taunted the witch. "Do you think you can stop me? Didn't you say you're now prepared for my attack?"
She flushed. It was a bluff, then. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. "I won't let you hurt my people."
It was what he'd thought she'd say.
"Then we agree. It will be fun."
"Fun?" She glared in disbelief and then shook her head. "You're insane. Max is going to make mincemeat out of you. I'm going to enjoy watching the whole thing."
"I may grow on you."
"Like mold."
"Make your choice. I can drop you off here, or both of us can walk in the front doors."
She considered. No doubt she was actually considering the death option. She wanted what was best for her covenstead. Nothing about her was selfish. Nothing about her was typical for a witch. He wanted to know why, whether she liked it or not, and for that he needed her alive. He was done giving her choices.
"You couldn't keep me out before, and your wards won't keep me out now. I'm moving in. Get used to having me around."
With that, he took them home.
REEL LIFE
A Glass Town Story
STEVEN SAVILE
There are monstrous creatures in Glass Town, but the worst of them by far is an ordinary man, Seth Lockwood, whose envy of his brother drove him to kidnap the love of his life--a beautiful young actress, Eleanor Raines--over a century ago, because he couldn't stand the thought of his brother being happy. Glass Town spans generations of obsession. Seth lives in a world where one hundred years pass as one, and he has lifetimes of being unlucky enough to get what he thought he wanted lying ahead of him . . . but there are cracks beginning to appear now as Damiola's great illusion is failing, allowing Seth to slip between then and now. Without Seth, there is no Glass Town. Without Seth, our young lovers might just have been the Hollywood happy ending after all. "Reel Life" follows Seth through the cracks as he comes to grips with a century's worth of obsession, looking for a way to win once and for all, and damning himself in the process. . . .
Seth Lockwood was in Hell. It had a lot of other names, but that didn't change Glass Town's fundamental nature. With Damiola's magic he thought he was buying a ticket to his own personal heaven. A kingdom to rival any glory he could have dreamed of. But this place was Hell, even if it lacked the reek of brimstone and the streets of fire of its more traditional renditions. Hell for Seth Lockwood looked like an abandoned movie set filled with false facades and painted windows that looked out onto streets pretending to be normal.
It was hard to imagine that even a few months ago this was what he wanted more than anything else in the world; to be here, in this place, alone with the woman of his obsessive dreams. He had won the fair maiden, but theirs wasn't a love affair for the ages. It began in covetous lust, slid slowly into jealous obsession, and finally consummated in violence. He wasn't sure love had ever come into the picture, but that didn't matter to Seth because in his world, winning was everything, and he'd won.
For once, though, winning wasn't enough. The prize was bittersweet because she'd given up, and to Seth, something given freely had no worth.
That wasn't to say he didn't enjoy her begging. He did. He loved those moments when she pleaded, tears streaking her rouged cheeks. He delighted at the feeling of her hot breath against his neck as it came in ragged, frightened gasps. He savored the sensation of taking what wasn't his to take, of reaching up to pull aside the gusset of her panties with no pretense at seduction. But what Seth took the most joy out of was his brother's imagined pain. Isaiah truly loved Eleanor Raines. That, more than anything else, was the reason for Seth's obsession. Like everything else, the pleasure he took from ownership was fleeting and he was left feeling hollow as he walked away, leaving Eleanor Raines curled up on the ground, the two-dimensional street painted around her. She looked like a broken doll cast aside by a petulant child.
He looked down at his bloody knuckles and flexed his fist.
It was the only way he touched her now.
Part of him still wanted to believe that, given enough time, she would learn to love him, but that part was a naive fool. The best he could hope for was acceptance, that this place would beat her into submission and she'd finally resign herself to the reality that these few make-believe streets were the be-all and end-all of her world now.
