Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices #2)(123)

Julian felt as if the bed were tilting under him. "Livia . . ."

"We're not angry," she said quickly. "I'm here by myself because I wanted to talk to you alone, before Ty and Dru. There was something I wanted to say to you."

Julian still had his fingers in the bedspread. He suspected he was in some kind of shock. He'd thought of how this moment might go for so many years that now that it was happening, he had no idea what to say.

"Why?" he managed finally.

"I realized something," she said. "I want to be like you, Jules. Not this second, not right now, but someday. I want to take care of people, other Shadowhunters, people who need me. I want to run an Institute."

"You'd be good at it," he said. "Livvy-I didn't tell you because I couldn't. Not because I didn't trust you. I didn't even tell Emma. Not until a few weeks ago."

She only smiled at him, and came around the side of the bed to where he was sitting. She bent down, and he felt her kiss him softly on the forehead. He closed his eyes, remembering when she'd been small enough for him to lift her in his arms, when she'd followed him, holding her hands out to him: Julian, Julian, carry me.

"There's nobody else I'd rather be like than you," she said. "I want you to be proud of me."

He opened his eyes at that and hugged her awkwardly, one-armed, and then she pulled away and ruffled his hair. He complained, and she laughed and headed for the door, saying she was exhausted. She flipped off the light as she went out of the room, leaving him in darkness.

He rolled under the blanket. Livvy knew. They knew. They knew, and they didn't hate him. It was a weight off him he had almost forgotten he'd been carrying.





17


HAUNTED


It was a perfect English day. The sky was the color of Wedgwood china, smooth and blue. The air was warm and sweet and full of possibilities. Julian stood on the front step of the Institute, trying to prevent his smallest brother from choking him to death.

"Don't go," Tavvy wailed. "You were already gone. You can't go again."

Evelyn Highsmith sniffed. "In my time, children were seen and not heard, and they certainly did not complain."

She was standing in the arch of the door, hands folded primly over the head of her cane. She had put on an amazing outfit in order to see them off to the train station: There was a sort of riding habit involved, and possibly jodhpurs. Her hat had a bird on it, though to Ty's disappointment, the bird was definitely dead.

The ancient black car that belonged to the Institute had been unearthed, and Bridget was waiting beside it with Cristina and Emma. Their backpacks were stashed in the trunk-Mark had been amused to find out that in England, they called it a boot-and they were talking excitedly. Both were in jeans and T-shirts, since they'd have to pass as mundane on the train, and Emma's hair was tied back into a braid.

Still, Julian was glad Cristina was going. In the back of his mind, he clung to the idea that she would be a buffer between him and Emma. Emma hadn't betrayed any hint of being angry that morning, and the two of them had functioned well together, mapping their route to Polperro, figuring out the train schedules and raiding the storage room for clothes. They planned to get a room in a bed-and-breakfast, preferably one with a kitchen they could cook in, to minimize exposure to mundanes. They'd even purchased their train tickets from Paddington ahead of time. All the planning had been easy and simple: They were a parabatai team; they still worked, they still functioned better together than alone.



       
         
       
        

But even with the most iron self-control imposed on himself, the sheer force of love and yearning when he looked at her was like being hit unexpectedly by a train, over and over. Not that he imagined being hit expectedly by a train would be much better.

Best to be buffered against that, until it stopped happening. If it stopped happening. But he wouldn't let himself think that way.

It had to end someday.

"Jules!" Tavvy wailed. Julian gave his brother a last hug and set him down. "Why can't I come with you?"

"Because," Julian explained. "You have to stay here and help Drusilla. She needs you."

Tavvy looked as if he doubted that. Drusilla, wearing an overly long cotton skirt that reached her toes, rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you're going," she said to Julian. "The minute you leave, Livvy and Ty start treating me like a servant."

"Servants get paid," Ty observed.

"See? See what I mean?" Dru poked Julian in the chest with an index finger. "You'd better hurry back so they don't maltreat me."