Stopping Time Read Free Page A

ponder overmuch. Instead, she asked, “Talk to me about something else?”
    Niall, however, wasn’t eager to let the topic drop, not entirely. “You know I want to respect your need to be away from us, but Gabe is in the area. He had to see someone. If you needed anyone…”
    “What I need is a friend who talks to me so I can think about something good.” Leslie stretched out on the sofa, pepper spray in reach on the coffee table, Buffy staking monsters on the television, and Niall’s voice in her ear. “Be my friend? Please? Talk to me?”
    He sighed. “There was a new exhibit at the gallery I was telling you about last month.”
    Niall wouldn’t ignore the issue, but he would cooperate to a degree. And knowing he was out there protecting her made Leslie feel a little safer too. They both are. She felt guilty sometimes for the way they both continued to try to take care of her, but she also knew that having the protection of the Dark Kings was all that kept her safe from being drawn back into faery politics or becoming a victim of the strong solitary faeries. There were those who would happily destroy her if they learned that she was beloved of both the current Dark King and the last Dark King.
    For a breath she hoped that whoever called, if they weretrying to upset her, was a faery. If it was a faery, Irial or Niall would find out. They would fix it.
    The reality of how easily she could sanction violence made her pause. That , she thought, is exactly why I can’t come back to either of you. She forced the thought aside. Friendship was all she could have with them, and even that was tenuous. She kept barriers in place: no speaking to Irial, no seeing Niall, and no touching either one of them. At first, she’d thought she could put them in her past and that they would forget about her, and maybe someday they would reach that point.
    “Did you buy anything this time?” she asked.
    “What? You think I can’t go to a gallery without buying something?” His voice was teasing, sweet, calming.
    “I do.”
    “Three prints,” he said.
    She laughed, letting herself enjoy the comfort he offered. “ Someone has a problem.”
    “Oh, but you should see them,” he began, and then he told her about each print in loving detail, and then about others he saw but didn’t buy, and by the time he was done, she was smiling and yawning and able to sleep.
     
    Irial saw the boy, Michael, lurking outside the building. He stayed to the shadows, making it obvious that he was trying to be stealthy. He stood in a spot where the streetlights didn’t eliminate the cover of darkness, yet still had a clear line of sight to the entrance to the building. The mortal had a large cup of coffee, a jacket, and dark clothes. The combination made Irialaware that the boy intended to stay there for some time.
    Why? He’d seemed tense earlier, and Irial hadn’t missed the glares aimed at him. The glares were not unwarranted; jealousy was a mortal trait. Setting up watch outside Leslie’s building seemed overreactive. Usually. Irial spared himself a wry smile. Watching over her is overreactive unless it’s me doing it or ordering it. The difference was that Irial knew the horrors that existed in the world around them—had, in fact, ordered horrors committed—so his cautious streak where Leslie was concerned was logical.
    “Why are you here?” he asked.
    Michael startled.
    He wasn’t fey, nor did he have the Sight, so Irial made himself visible. At this hour, Leslie wouldn’t be coming outside. And if she did… Irial smiled. She wouldn’t expect him to act any differently. Leslie saw him for who he was, for what he was, and loved him still. Despite being what nightmares are made of, Irial wasn’t frightening to her.
    It wasn’t Leslie who saw him, though. Between one step and the next, he made himself seen to another mortal. If Michael had been a threat, Irial wouldn’t do so.
    The boy swallowed nervously, took a step backward, and