Page 45 of Wake the Dream

Illaria shoveled another bite into her mouth and spoke after chewing and swallowing. “All right. What do you want to know? It’s only fair.” But they were far from finished discussing hisknowing. And what it meant for her. For the citizens of the Marsh.

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” he hedged. “Well enough to continue or do you need to sleep?”

He was definitely fussing, and though it warmed her miserable heart to the core, it could quickly become irritating.

“I’m fine, Shanahan.”

Kieran appeared to consider the vast array of questions in front of him before narrowing it down to a single topic. “You and the guy in the street.”

She let her palm slam down on the table in a victorious thud. “Iknewyou were jealous. You aren’t the only one who gets a gut feeling.”

“I’m not jealous. I want to know why you act the way you do.” His scowl told her she’d hit the nail on the head despite his denial. “Why you feel like you need to run to others for physical affection instead of dealing with your demons.”

Oh. Way too deep right on the first try. The infuriating man managed to hit home with his first strike.

The day before, even hours earlier, Illaria would have told him to shove his question up his ass. Maybe flipped the table over for good measure before vacating the premises in a most undignified manner.

Now, she forced herself to sit still under his scrutiny and search for an honest answer. He’d given her the same, hadn’t he? Which meant she owed him. If she appreciated anything in this mundane world, it was maintaining the balance of fairness.

She munched on a bit of broccoli as she studied him, still wearing the unusual mesh tank, dulled and dirt-streaked hair soaking up light from the overhead lamp amidst the pale yellows of the kitchen.

No, she had no interest in him likethat, or like the man whose company she’d left the night her sister disappeared. And Illaria was absolutely certain Kieran felt the same way about her. He had no inclination to bed her, either, despite their rather public embrace outside of the station house.

Maybe the strange curling sensation near her ribs came from spending so much time with him over the last few days. She’d become...territorial. Maybe even a little mean.

“Sometimes,” Illaria began slowly, “I’m not sure why I go after men the way I do. What you saw yesterday wasn’t the first time I’ve thrown myself at a man. The night my sister disappeared...I was late because I had met a man at a bar and followed him back to his hotel room.”

She hated the way his gaze hardened. How his mouth turned thin and the color fled from his cheeks.

She struggled to explain. “I need to feel something. Something I don’t know how to give myself. I need to feel alive, to get rid of this terrible emptiness inside of me.”

“An emptiness you’ve felt since the barrier closed with your parents trapped on the other side.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Because they did nothing to stop it,” she fumed. Letting the full force of her anger show through when she was too tired to keep up pretenses. “They knew Yelena and I were here, exploring. They knew that once the Fae lords followed through on their decision to close the gate, we would be alone. And they didn’t care. Don’t you understand? They left us, knowing we could never go back. They preferred to stay in Fairy rather than come for us.”

It had happened in an instant. Illaria had thrown her air magic at the gate, attempting to keep it open long enough for Yelena at least to rush through. They hadn’t meant to explore so far away from their only door home. They’d lost track of time, marveling in the wonders of Earth, so different from anything they knew. Different but exciting. Not something to fear. Not something they would be forced to get used to. To accept.

Kieran grabbed her hand, pressing it against his heart, struggling to hold her there when she would pull away. “The emptiness inside of you is something no one can fix. No amount of food or drugs or sex is going to fill the hole. Only you can do that. I know because I have the same damn thing and I tried to lose myself in work. In school. The police academy. Nothing came close to making me feel the way I did before my mother died.”

“Look at us, just walking sacks of mommy issues,” Illaria said, curling her fingers into the mesh of his shirt.

“Or abandonment issues. However you want to look at it, there are some old wounds that will never heal until you do the work on them. And trust me, it’s hard work.”

She grinned at him and batted her eyelashes. “I feel so much better now that you’ve identified my problem. Thanks ever so much, Detective Shanahan.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He purposely ignored the dripping sarcasm and turned back to his meal, dropping his hold on her.

“Why is it so important?” she asked him at last. “To heal those wounds completely?” Wouldn’t a glossing over do the same thing? Like a bandage until one was ready to deal with it all? And hadn’t that been her modus operandi?

“Unhealed wounds still inflict pain. There’s no getting around that. But there’s more. Your emptiness needs healing—or filling, if you prefer—because it scares you to death. You must learn to control your fear because it’s the first step toward real happiness. Toward self-control so you don’t fry yourself and everyone around you with your magic.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

He ignored her stormy look. “When you give in to one of your rages, or when you’re with a man, how does it make you feel?”

She considered the question, rubbing her thumb and forefinger against the persistent headache between her eyebrows. “Okay, I’ll play. It feels like I’m swimming in the ocean and getting beaten down, pushed underneath the waves again and again and again until I want to give up. But there’s no breaking point.”

Illaria stared at him for a moment, torn by desire. Desire to walk out the door and let it slam behind her so she didn’t have to immerse herself in the pain again. Desire to cry because she knew he was right. Desire to grab him and kiss him, to feel the fire she knew the embrace would bring.

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