Page 17 of Sidhe (The Incubus Saga #3)

As he waited, the diner creaked and shifted around him as if it were a living thing, the music still playing from the jukebox hauntingly.

Nathan had been alone almost two weeks but something about being alone now unnerved him.

There was a mirror behind the counter directly in front of him, and when he glanced over he really did look like shit—worn out, tired, too thin.

He blinked and black eyes stared back at him.

The startling sight had Nathan clenching his eyes shut to banish that awful image, and when he opened them again they were green. Whatever had made Malak ineffective when he lunged for Nathan in the car, it didn’t mean Nathan was free.

He still had to choose Malak, that was clear, and he had said ‘fuck no’.

Then again he was still running, had no intention of doing anything but, and if he kept running would he remain just as vulnerable, waiting for Malak to come back and try again?

Nathan couldn’t go back to the Gatehouse.

How could he go back knowing now what his choices really meant, knowing that he just kept letting all of them down?

Nathan’s head jerked to the jukebox at the start of a new song. Johnny Cash. And not classic Johnny Cash either but one of the last hits he ever had, a cover: “Hurt,” which hit far closer to home than Nathan could handle at the moment.

Where the hell is that damn remote ? he thought frantically as the line, “my empire of dirt” played. He practically dove over the counter to find it.

Soon as he had the remote snatched up in his hand, Nathan flicked to the next song. Why couldn’t it have been “Ring of Fire” or “A Boy Named Sue?” Nathan loved “A Boy Named Sue.”

The music was back to some random Country song, something he didn’t know, so he ignored it, slipping the remote back where he had grabbed it from. Just in time too since it was right then that Dave came back out of the kitchen with a plate of hot fries.

“Hey, and looks like I was right,” he said with a grin at the filled coffee pot. “How do you take it?” He set the fries in front of Nathan, slid over a bottle of ketchup, and turned back to grab the pot of coffee and a cup.

“Just black, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Nathan wasn’t expecting anything special of the coffee when he took his first sip, but damn, it was the best coffee he had ever had. Nathan almost asked if the guy had sneaked a little secret stash into the mix or something. It was hot and bitter and everything he liked.

“So,” Dave said, leaning forward on the counter all in Nathan’s space suddenly. He didn’t say anything else.

“Uh…” Nathan just wanted to sit and enjoy his coffee and—damn, even the fries were awesome.

“Didn’t you read the sign when you came in?” Dave smirked, pointing back toward the door.

Nathan looked. There wasn’t anything but the ‘Open’ sign that from his angle read ‘Closed’.

“If your server is bored to tears, you must keep him company. Diner rules.” Dave winked when Nathan turned back to him.

It wasn’t that Nathan didn’t like the guy, and he appreciated the extra attention to some degree, but right now he really didn’t want to deal with anyone. “I don’t think I’ll be very good company tonight,” he said plainly, taking another long gulp of that amazing coffee.

“What’s your definition of good?” Dave shot back. “Coz mine’s pretty loose. Haven’t even gotten your name yet, son.”

“Nathan.”

“Well, Nathan, it’s nice to meet you. And it seems to me the people who most don’t wanna talk to the bartender or waiter,” he gestured to himself, “are usually the ones who most need it. So what’s with the haunted look?

As the grand scheme of things usually goes that means trouble with the law or trouble with a woman.

Maybe in your case it’s a little of both. Am I close?”

A smile wormed its way out of Nathan despite himself.

“You could say that. But uhh…and I’m risking you asking me oh so politely to leave after I say this…

” He didn’t know why he had the urge to explain himself, but the words poured out of him.

“It’s not a woman. The rest you meant by saying that is implied, but…

definitely not a woman.” He eyed Dave carefully to gauge the guy’s reaction.

To his credit, Dave only looked mildly ruffled. “Okay then. Well. I won’t be asking you to leave, I can tell ya that. Can’t say I know how to give the right advice though. All my tricks involve flowers and candy. Unless your man likes that sorta thing.”

“I don’t think there are any tricks for making up for what I did.

And it’s not just him, I…” why was Nathan even saying all this, “my…brother. Our whole mock family, I…sorta ran out. Still thinking it was the right choice to be honest but…I don’t know.

” He shook his head, took another drink of coffee, smashed a few fries into his mouth.

He didn’t know what the right answer was anymore.

Even if he wanted to run back home, even if that was the right choice, how could he face them? “I used to believe I was a good man…”

“You don’t think you’re a good man anymore?”

“I’m not,” Nathan said without pausing to think about it. How could he even imagine considering himself good after the things he had done and knowing now what he really was and how far he had fallen?

Dave leaned a little further over the counter and stole a fry from Nathan’s plate. “Did someone tell you that, give you a reason to believe it, or did you just decide that for yourself?” He raised an eyebrow at Nathan as he ate the pilfered fry.

“How many good men do you know who carry knives?” Nathan asked.

“Son, this is the South,” Dave chuckled. “I’m used to things more heavy duty than a knife on my regulars. And you know, the thing about good men is, and despite what you say, your eyes say ya are one…good men can always go home.”

Nathan set his coffee down and stared at Dave with a narrowed brow.

“You don’t know the things I said before I left, the things I’ve done.

” Dave opened his mouth to say something but Nathan held up his hand to stop him.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know if I’m a murderer…

or a monster…or what. So best not to push your luck, pal. ”

So much for not wanting to scare the guy, though despite Nathan’s best efforts, Dave didn’t look at all spooked. “Top you off?” he asked with a kind smile, raising the pot of coffee.

Nathan grimaced but held out his cup. “Just…leave it alone, alright? Your coffee’s awesome and I appreciate the fries, but I didn’t stop for conversation. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

“Headed back out on the road?” Dave asked as he poured. “Seems to me you’ll just keep ending up here if you do that.”

Nathan knew there was double meaning in the phrase but he wasn’t sure what the guy meant.

“You really think you’ve done some things that make you a murderer or a monster? You wouldn’t be the first. But the weight on those shoulders tells me you don’t want to be what you think you are. Funny thing about that is if you don’t wanna be something, you don’t hafta be. Miracle of choice.”

“And what if I don’t get to choose? Or what if the choices I made mean I don’t get to make another one?

What if I’m stuck now and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it?

” That’s how Nathan felt—stuck, trapped.

“If you knew what I was…” He shook his head.

“God, I don’t even know what I am. Or who. ..”

“It ain’t who we are but what we do that defines us,” Dave said, reaching to steal another fry.

Nathan was about to comment again when he paused. “Did you steal that from a Batman movie?”

“It’s good sentiment,” Dave shrugged.

Nathan laughed, and it felt kind of good, his previous anger dulled.

“You can always choose to do the right thing, Nathan,” Dave went on.

“Ya see, you’re not only made of the bad choices ya make, not any more than the most righteous of men is only made of the good ones.

Maybe you’ve heard all this before, maybe a million times, but if you’re still not listening…

then maybe there’s a deeper problem. Here…

” Dave reached up around his neck and pulled off a chain Nathan hadn’t noticed before.

The pendant on the end was an engraved circle—a saint medallion.

“Now you may not be a religious man, but—”

“Saint Anthony,” Nathan said, recognizing the symbols. “Patron saint of lost things. He’s a popular one.”

A laugh bubbled up from Dave and he nodded.

“Yeah, I s’ppose he is. People do hate to lose things.

I always liked the whole saint idea, though I don’t reckon I’d call myself Catholic.

But the way it works, unlike what some people think, is it’s not about praying to the saint, you’re just asking ‘em, see, asking them to pray with you. I like the community, I guess. Like knowing that even after we’re gone we can do a little good in the world still.

I swear every time I’ve asked St. Anthony to pray with me, I have always found what I was looking for. ”

“Yeah, probably coz you finally looked in the right place,” Nathan countered. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the idea, but it begged too much the question that there was a God above to pray to.

“Well, maybe yes, maybe not, but if it works, it works, I figure. Why don’t you take it,” Dave said, holding the medallion out to Nathan. “Seems you need it more than me right now, and I’m thinking that neck looks a little bare.”

Unconsciously, Nathan reached for his necklace, but of course it wasn’t there.

He had left it on the passenger seat next to his phone.

Nathan stared at the silver chain and medal in Dave’s outstretched hand.

Besides the fact that Nathan didn’t feel right taking anything from this man who was obviously too kind for his own good, Nathan didn’t understand what he could possibly do with help from St. Anthony.

“I didn’t lose anything,” he said.

“Way I see it,” Dave smiled, taking Nathan’s hand and putting the necklace in it whether he wanted to accept the gift or not, “sometimes a thing ain’t what gets lost.”

Nathan stared down at the medallion as Dave started wiping down the counter that didn’t really look all that dirty. What was he supposed to do with it?

If there was anyone watching out for him…maybe it was Dad. And Mom. Sasha’s parents too. He could imagine praying to them, because he could have faith in them. He had faith in Jim, Sasha, Alex, and the others. Maybe he didn’t have faith in himself, but they should be enough.

They hadn’t called in two days. But maybe they were still looking for him; he hoped they were still looking for him, because no matter how Nathan looked at it, he knew Dave was right—he was lost. And he didn’t want to be lost anymore.

Even over the music, the sound of an engine pulling up was unmistakable.

Nathan almost dropped the medallion as he spun in his stool to stare out the windows.

A junker was pulling up, some hideous thing that shouldn’t even be able to run.

It was dark, but there was a light on in the cab of the car, and Nathan could see easily the familiar red hair of the driver and the fop of black hair on the person next to him.

“Don’t suppose those belong to you?”

“How…how did they find me…?” Nathan gasped.

From behind Nathan, Dave’s voice sounded softer. “Good things do happen.”

“Not to me.” Nathan wondered how this would play out. Maybe all Sasha wanted to do was hit him again and leave, and Jim just came along to get in a few shots of his own.

Dave sighed. “I wouldn’t really mind your lack of faith, Nathan, if you had some in yourself. It always comes down to choice. Malak can’t have power over you if you choose them instead.”

Nathan’s eyes widened and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

But when he tried to spin back around and demand answers, there was a hand over his eyes, holding firm. Even if Nathan had thought to struggle, he wouldn’t have been able to move.

“Don’t give him another chance,” Dave said, but it wasn’t Dave, was it?

He sounded strangely far away even though Nathan could feel breath on the side of his face.

“It’ll only take a single choice for Malak to take you, one more time where you choose him, and it’ll be over.

I know you’ll do the right thing, Nathan. You always have.”

The hand pulled from Nathan’s eyes and he immediately spun the rest of the way around to face Dave and the counter. He shivered at what he saw.

Standing from his stool, Nathan slowly turned in place to look over the entirety of what had once been a diner.

It was a diner, with all the things Nathan had seen still there, but they were aged and broken now.

The mirror was cracked behind the counter.

The jukebox wasn’t playing any music. Everything was dirty and dark and all the lights were off.

But the area of the counter Nathan had been sitting at was wiped clean, and his plate of fries and amazing coffee still sat there, though nothing existed that could have made them.

The sound of a car door slamming made Nathan jump. Jim and Sasha were there, and they were coming for him. Nathan could run, but he knew that wouldn’t get him anywhere but gone. He also knew that ‘gone’ wasn’t what he wanted.

He could feel it, the change in him, the absence. He suddenly knew, without a shadow of doubt, that his eyes would no longer turn black.

Nathan tugged at his shirt, desperate to see his mark. It was gone, too. Somehow, Dave had taken away the last lingering pieces of the Veil from him, and all because…he’d had a moment of faith.

Nathan looked down and in his hand was the saint medallion on its simple silver chain.

“Smartass,” he whispered, just in case there was someone listening.

He looked toward the windows again. Jim and Sasha were peering inside the building through the glass of the door that looked very much locked now. Even though it was dark, he knew they could see him, his clear silhouette. They wouldn’t come in. They were waiting for him to decide what he would do.

Pocketing the medallion, Nathan turned back to the counter, stole one last fry, one last gulp of coffee that he had to admit did taste heavenly, and headed for the door. As he left, he could have sworn he heard the jukebox playing Johnny Cash.