Zachary’s thoughts bubble over with questions and debates. Who should he trust, what should he do, how did he manage to go from near-clueless to deeply embroiled in whatever this is in a single evening. He has no real reason to trust Dorian more than he trusts this woman. He doesn’t have enough answers to go with all of his questions.
But he has an answer, one that makes this decision in this moment in the snow an easy one.
No way is he going to go home and play pretend. Not now.
“I respectfully decline,” Zachary says. He pulls the gate open and it screeches, sending pieces of ice falling over his shoulders. He doesn’t look back at the woman on the stairs, he runs down the alleyway as fast as his impractical footwear will allow.
There is another gate at the end of the alley, and as he fusses with the latch he spots Dorian across the street, leaning against a building and reading by the light from the still-open bar on the corner, deeply absorbed in Sweet Sorrows and frowning at it in
a way that Zachary finds familiar.
Zachary ignores both his instructions and the streetlight, hurrying across the empty street.
“I thought I told you—” Dorian starts, but Zachary doesn’t let him finish.
“I just declined an invitation to late-night intimidation tea from a lady in a fur coat and I’m guessing you know who she is. She certainly knew who I was so I don’t think any of this is as covert as you would like it to be.”
Dorian puts the book back in his coat and mutters something in a language Zachary doesn’t recognize but he guesses the meaning is probably profane and turns toward the street with his hand raised. It takes Zachary a moment to realize that he’s hailing a cab.
Dorian ushers Zachary into the cab before he can ask where it is they’re going but directs the driver to Central Park West and Seventy-Seventh. Then he sighs and puts his head in his hands.
Zachary turns and looks behind them as they pull away from the curb. The younger woman is standing on the street corner, a dark coat pulled over her robe. He cannot tell if she has seen them or not from this distance.
“Did you get the book?” Dorian asks him.
“Yes I did,” Zachary says. “But before I give it to you, you’re going to tell me why I did that.”
“You did that because I asked you nicely,” Dorian says and it doesn’t annoy Zachary as much as he expects it to. “And because it belongs to me, not to them, as much as a book belongs to anyone. I got your book back for you, you got mine back for me.”
Zachary watches Dorian as he stares out the window at the snow. He looks tired. Weary-tired and maybe a little sad. The paper flower is still tucked in the lapel of his coat. Zachary decides not to pry any further about the book for now.
“Where are we going?” he asks.
“We need to get to the door.”
“There’s a door? Here?”
“There should be if Mirabel held up her part of the bargain and wasn’t stopped in the process,” Dorian explains. “But we need to get there before they do.”
“Why?” Zachary asks. “Are they trying to get there, too?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Dorian says. “But they don’t want us going there, they don’t want anyone going there anymore. Do you know how simple it is to destroy a door made of paint?”
“How simple?”
“As simple as throwing more paint on it, and they always have paint.”
Zachary looks out the window at the buildings passing by and the snowflakes starting to stick to signs and trees. He glimpses the Empire State Building, bright and white against the sky, and he realizes that he has no idea what time it is and doesn’t care enough to check his watch.
The TV screen in the cab chatters away about headlines and movies and Zachary reaches over to mute it, unconcerned about anything else going on in the world, real or fictional.
“I don’t suppose we have time to stop and get my bag,” he says, already knowing the answer. His contact lenses are beginning to war with his eyeballs.
“I’ll make certain you are reunited with your belongings as soon as possible,” Dorian says. “I know you have a lot of questions, I will do my best to answer them once we’re safe.”
“Are we not safe now?” Zachary asks.
“Frankly, I’m impressed that you made it out of there,” Dorian says. “You must have caught them at least partially by surprise. Otherwise they wouldn’t have let you go.”