Rituals (Cainsville 5)

He looked at me then, gaze hidden behind his shades.

"We need to speak to Ioan about this and the sluagh," I said. "We need to figure out what Seanna knows about Kirkman and how to stop her from using that information. We need to get back to figuring out the meaning of that damned ritual I saw at the fun house, which has gotten completely lost in the crap with Seanna and the sluagh. And I don't want to do any of it. I just want to..."

"What?"

"The same damn thing I've been wanting since this started. A break."

"You're upset."

I wrapped my arms around myself. "I'm a lot of things. Frustrated, confused, angry. Scared." Hands back in pockets. "Ignore me. I'm being a brat."

"I need clothing," he said as we reached the car. "If we're going to stay in Cainsville for the foreseeable future, I need to pack a bag."

I managed a wan smile. "Add that to the list, then. We'll grab it after we speak to Ioan."

"We should do it now. It may take a while."

I realized then what he was saying. Not adding yet another task to the list, but giving me an excuse to rest someplace quiet.

When we were in the car, I said, "I like the way you push me."

He frowned, one hand on the ignition.

"Easy is, well, easy," I said. "It's someone who accepts me exactly the way I am, which seems great, no pressure, no expectations. But then it chafes. Makes me restless. I don't want someone constantly pointing out my flaws. That's toxic. But you get it right. What's the old saying? Have the serenity to accept the things you can't change, the courage to change what you can, and the wisdom to know the difference?"

His brow furrowed as if he was trying to figure out what the hell I was talking about.

"You do that," I said. "You accept what I can't change, and you push me to do the things I can."

"All right..."

"Don't ever stop doing that. Please. I want to be better. Be stronger. If I waver, don't fix things for me."

He gave a slow and careful nod. "I apologize. I realized I made a mistake as soon as I did it. I was trying to help, but that was the wrong way to go about it."

"Umm, this isn't about making a side trip to your apartment, is it?"

"You were talking about that?"

"And you weren't," I said.

"I was talking about putting your hand on Todd's arm. That wasn't my place."

"No, it was." I turned to him. "It absolutely was. I could have resisted if I disagreed. I'm only sorry you needed to push me."

"You were intruding on what is probably your father's worst memory, but you needed that information. Accessing memories is like reading omens or seeing visions. They provide what you need. What no one will--or can--give you."

"The truth."

"Yes. As for going to my apartment, I think we both need a break right now." He paused. "I would like one."

"Good."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

As we were pulling into the condo garage, Detective Fahy called to remind Gabriel that his mother was still missing, presumed dead, and that she strongly considered him a person of interest. That was exactly what he needed right now.

On the elevator up, Gabriel seethed. He didn't say a word. Didn't even stab the buttons. That would be a loss of control. The angrier Gabriel gets, the more tightly he reins it in.