Blood

The power came back about two and a half drinks after I switched to whiskey. Our Islander whiskey is pretty much an Irish whiskey, except they make it next door…most of the time, anyway. Sometimes Justin and George make it in George’s little sugar shack.

Justin typically won’t give me anything stronger than beer, but Beth couldn’t give any less of a damn as long as I don’t pass out or start a fight, and I don’t really feel like doing either.

In all fairness, even though I’m a pretty damn good drunk, Justin’s right not to give me liquor, I mean, I get a little…unpredictable sometimes, and that’s not too great in public.

But it’s not easy to tell myself that when I have coin in my pocket. Or when I feel like shit.In this case, both. My hand is still throbbing where I’d burnt it a couple days ago on the faerie stone, but worse than that,

Justin had been right. I wasn’t calling Lorna because I’m a good person or anything like that, I was calling her because I am a mostly human guy, and I’m pretty sure she’s a human girl.

And I guess that’s only natural…had to happen eventually…but that little word, ‘mostly’, well, that complicates things.

I mean, I don’t even know what I’m capable of. I’ve done things, when I was younger.

Uh, that sounded worse than I meant it, it’s not like I hurt anyone, well that’s not entirely true since I think I bit Justin once but I was maybe three, that’s normal.

What I mean is I just don’t know what I could do, or what could…make…me do it. Damn, that doesn’t make any sense.

“And what’s an ugly-ass girl like you doing all on her own here, Mallory?”

I glance up and to the left, and there is none other than Jamie Hannagan.

“Clever,” I mutter.

“What’s that?” he says with a horrible look of honest confusion.

I do not understand how a man like Eddie Hannagan was able to raise such a bastard. I know he did it on his own after his wife took off with some Mainlander, but Justin doesn’t have a mum either, neither do the Owens kids for that matter, nor half the damn island.

“I was just admiring your wit,” I say, chasing the words away with the rest of my whiskey.

The glass, which had been cool when I got it, feels warm against my lips from being in my hand for the amount of time it has been.

“Think that’s funny?” says Hannagan, leaning forward so that he looks down at me as completely as possible.

He appears to think he is intimidating…which couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Oh, nowhere near as funny as your ‘girl’ gag, that never gets old.”

I think I might be making him angry.

“You what?”

Out of the corner my eye, Beth sweeps up behind the bar, and she does not look entertained. “Is there a problem here, lads?”

Hannagan turns to Beth and says, “Nah,” but he doesn’t walk away, so I figure that means it would be a good time to leave.

So I pass through the room, and pull the door open. The cold air hits me full on, but I push through it, away from the warmth and the booze.

The natural pub sounds disappear a second after the door slams shut, leaving only the wind, my boots and the faerie music, growing clearer and clearer as the solstice approaches.

And then the pub door opens again, adding raucous singing to the eerie melodies of winter. I think I’d have to credit it to Sam O’Toole, maybe his brother James, like their beings, their voices are pretty damn similar.

“Aye, Mallory!” calls a girl, although I dunno if…wait…

I stop and turn a little, so I see Lorna walking towards me.

Oh, hell.

“Hey,” she says, stopping beside me.

There’s snow in her hair, and her face is already as bright as it, but she looks pretty all the same. Oh, holy fuck.

“I am sorry, I-I mean, I meant to…”

There’s an air to her, a hint of new drunkenness, meaning I should send her back to her cousin, but…

“Forget about it, really, my ego isn’t that big.”

She smiles, showing a mouthful of teeth that probably aren’t white, but I can’t tell the difference in this light.

“Why do you talk so quiet?” she says.

I shrug, since I didn’t realise I talk any quieter than most people. “I guess it’s just lack of practice.”

“Tsk. How about you practice with me then, eh? Ya had summat you needed to tell me, didn’t you? About my stone.”

“Uh yeah, but, your cousin—”

She smiles wider. “A little stress could do him some good.”

Say you have to go home. Leave. Just stop you fucking moron.

But I hesitate, I ruddy hesitate. What is wrong with me? Well, I know what’s wrong with me, but…

“You ain’t afraid of him, are ya?” she says, smirking in the dark.

I laugh, though not for the reason she’d expect. If anyone should be frightened, it should be Lorna. She would be frightened of me, if she was smart. Or at least hate me, like everyone else. Maybe she does.

“No, I’m not. I just, don’t know if…”

She scowls at me. “Fine. It don’t make a difference to me.”

But that has to be a lie, since she followed me out here.

She turns and starts to walk away, but on some kind of horrible, stupid impulse I grab her wrist.

I changed my mind; I am a fucking horrible drunk.

A second too late, I let go of her wrist. I hope she doesn’t hit me. I reckon she’s going to hit me. She looks like she’s going to hit me.

“Never touch me again,” she almost spits the word ‘never’.

“I won’t, I’m sorry, Lorna. I didn’t mean to.”

She stops scowling and sighs, crossing her arms and looking at the ground.

“What did you drive here?” she asks without looking back up.

“Uh, my pick-up, why?”

She laughs, but not in an overly humour-filled way. “Reid’d like that.”

I can’t help but frown. “I’m sorry?”

Her eyes meet mine again for a second maybe before she glances around the parking lot. “Uh, he’d just find it funny, using a pick-up to pick-up girls. It’s his kind of humour,” she points to my right. “Is that it?”

I glance over my shoulder at where I think she’s pointing. “Uh, yeah.”

“Wicked.”

“Where are you going?” I ask, since she’s started to walk past me.

She turns around, walking backwards and giving me a look. “You’re kidding.”

“I—”

Her laughter fills that dark air, covering the songs for another moment.

“Your truck, you stupid bastard. You’re taking me somewhere.”

She’s mad, I think.

But that doesn’t stop me from walking to my truck with her, letting her in and driving her away from Kappamor, to the only place I can think of. If she’s mad, I’m totally off my head.