Page 76 of Sky Song
“He did spend a few nights. That’s all.”
Paloma’s questions shone light on the transient nature of Lyle’s place in her life. He shared with her so little about himself. He purposefully avoided deepening their attachment.
He was using her.
“Now let’s talk about his skills,” Paloma continued.
“His skills?” Cricket chuckled. Another giant area of the not-so-sure. “Breaking and entering, for certain. He knows how to blend in, go unnoticed.”
“Breaking and entering? Interesting. Does he show aggression?”
Cricket raised her head. “No, never. Towards me or anyone.”
“Hmm. Probably not a fighter.”
She shook her head decisively. “He doesn't really look like one…”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Paloma drawled.
“His jokes about killing people aside, Lyle is the most non-confrontational man I’ve met. Doesn’t rise to the bait - you saw how he was at Atticus. But maybe it’s because he’s not very healthy.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. We sort of bonded over being sick a little. He said he’s on medication, some detrozanine or other, and it interferes with his sleep.”
An arrested expression crept onto Paloma’s face. “Say what?”
“He has trouble waking up,” Cricket clarified.
“Did you say detrozanine?”
“That’s what his meds are called.”
“Are you sure you remember it correctly?”
“Actually, yes, that’s what Lyle said.”
That arrested expression settled firmly over Paloma’s fey features. She opened her mouth, then closed it as if looking for words. “Could it be that Lyle led you on a little?”
Cricket sat back. “I want to believe he didn’t have a reason to. He said it had side effects, like his sleep issue.”
“No kidding. And did he say what the medication was for?”
Cricket shook her head. “He made some stupid joke about anger management.” Paloma’s pained facial expression bothered her. “Why?”
“Nothing. I’m just surprised he’s sick, I couldn’t tell. And that he admitted it - males often want to pretend they are strong and hale in front of a helpless woman, you know.”
Cricket laughed. “Maybe it’s because I’m not helpless that he doesn’t feel threatened.”
“Maybe, Cricket. Maybe.”
Paloma left soon after, their usually smooth conversation all awkward and filled with pauses. She left, but the doubts remained.
Chapter 10
In stasis, he looked like an angel. Sitting with his back against the wall, his smooth face relaxed in repose, silky hair fallen softly against his cheek, he was a fey prince, an otherworldly spirit, a magical creature trapped on this low plane of existence.
She hadn’t heard him come in during the night. Now, all was quiet, and Hipper craned his short neck, peering at Cricket from behind the couch like he belonged here.
