Why Are All the Good Guys Total Monsters? Read Free Page B

fight he’d
started with Sabastien. But Sabastien had disappeared.
    Daire hurried to where he’d left him and searched around,
but there was no sign of him anywhere. Sabastien had gone, as mysteriously as
he’d arrived.
    Daire walked back towards me, the soaking wet fabric of his
dark grey trousers clinging to the lithe muscles of his thighs. He moved like
an athlete, and I stood where I was in the partial shelter of the patio doors
watching him, admiring him, even though I knew I was being foolish to think
such things. Daire could be dangerous — gorgeous but dangerous. But I guess
there’s always been a part of me that’s drawn to this, like a moth to the
flame.
    The rain ran down the broad shoulders of his grey leather
jacket. It was leather, wasn’t it? Maybe it wasn’t, I thought, studying it
closely. Flecks of silver sparkled here and there, and it had to be designer
quality, that deliberate well–worn look that was so expensive.
    ‘He’s gone,’ Daire said, towering above me, lit up by the
lanterns in the patio.
    I was alone with him now — all alone with this intriguing
stranger.
    The droplets of rain trickled down his face, tracing the
chiselled shape of his straight nose, high cheekbones, clean jaw line and
expressive lips. My skin was naturally fair, but his was far paler. He could’ve
been a model or a movie star, though I got the distinct impression that neither
of these professions would’ve interested him.
    ‘Who are you, Daire?’ I said, looking up at him. ‘This is
private property. You’ve no right to intrude. I should call the police.’
    He didn’t answer me.
    ‘And what about the . . .’ I could hardly bring myself to
say the word, ‘faeries?’
    ‘I tried to warn you about Sabastien,’ he said. ‘He’s a
master of tricks and deceit.’
    ‘You’re saying he made me hallucinate that I was seeing
faeries?’
    ‘Something like that,’ he said.
    ‘So there weren’t any faeries?’
    He gave me a look that I’d never seen before from anyone. It
was scorching, haunting, enticing. ‘Do you believe there were?’ he said.
    I blinked and ran my hands through my wet hair, trying to
clear my thoughts.
    ‘Well, do you?’ he said.
    ‘I don’t believe in faeries. I never have.’
    His expression turned to ice, and I sensed I’d said
something that had cut him to the bone. His eyes glared daggers at me. Right
now, I’d have said that Daire was the bad guy and taken my chances with
Sabastien.
    ‘What?’ I said, prompting him to tell me what was bugging
him.
    He shook his head at me. ‘Nothing.’
    ‘What is it you want from me?’ I said. ‘What are you doing
here?’
    His unfathomable eyes gave nothing away. ‘I had your
interests at heart, but I see I was wasting my time.’
    Grrr! He answered questions without really answering them. I
felt he wanted to tell the truth, but needed to hide it for some odd reason,
and yet lying didn’t come easily to him. He was telling the truth, a version of
it that skimmed the facts without revealing anything. It was so frustrating.
    ‘Can’t you just give me a straight answer?’ I’m sure he
couldn’t miss the exasperation in my voice.
    ‘Give me a straight question,’ he said.
    ‘Okay,’ I said, taking a deep breath. ‘Let’s start with the basics.’
From everything mum had taught me about being a journalist, when confronted by
someone who doesn’t want to give a straight answer, work your way around them.
Throw some questions at them they don’t expect. And so I began by asking, ‘What
do you do? Have you finished school? Are you at college?’
    His lips curved into a smirk and he seemed amused by this
suggestion. ‘I’ve finished my education.’
    ‘Where do you work? Do you have a job?’ I said, ignoring his
attitude.
    ‘I’m of independent means. My family left me an inheritance
— land, property, white gold —’
    ‘White gold?’
    ‘Yes,’ he said without any elaboration.
    ‘So you’re a rich kid?’
    The