A look of utter terror flashes over Bobby's face. He's been in the dark for a long time, and all to stay young and beautiful forever. "No," he says, hurriedly.
"Then return the bean sidhe, and do not test our patience in this way again. You can still claim the girl, if you can catch her fairly. You will not take her tonight."
Still ashen, Bobby pulls Emma from his car and drops her to the pavement. He doesn't look back as he climbs into the driver's seat and blasts away, leaving the four of us alone.
Make that the three of us. When I turn to thank Bethany, she's gone. I look at the place where she'd been for a moment. Then I nod, and make my way to Emma.
She's still gagged, her hands tied behind her back, but her eyes are open, and focus on me as I kneel to pull the gag away. She coughs, weakly. "You didn't have to do this," she whispers.
"Hush," I reply, and start working on the rope that binds her wrists. "You're my friend. Besides, I couldn't let you die before you met my boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" asks Emma, blinking.
"He's the hot guy behind me. The one with the smokin' wheels."
Emma's eyes flick past me, and widen as she sees Gary—the only possible "hot guy" on the road. Then she starts to laugh, punctuating her amusement with more coughs. "You have to be kidding me."
"Nope." I straighten, helping her to her feet. "I'm getting a malted for this, right?"
"You're getting all the malteds you can drink," she says, fiercely, and pulls me into a hug. "Thank you."
"What are friends for?" I pat her back with one hand and turn to smile at Gary. He flashes his headlights at me. "Let's go home."
***
Last Dance Diner says the neon sign, glowing through the darkness like a lighthouse guiding us safely into port. The lights are on, and there are people inside, being waited on by Emma's staff. After the midnight, this level of the twilight seems almost bright enough to be the day.
We slide into the parking lot, and Emma pats Gary's dashboard, saying, "I'll send Dinah out with some fresh oil. Thanks again. For everything."
His radio spins, and the Beatles tell her that they get by with a little help from their friends.
"Don't we all?" Emma turns her smile toward me, only the weariness at the corner of her mouth betraying what she's been through tonight. "You coming?"
"Yeah," I say, and kiss Gary's steering wheel before sliding out of my seat. He closes the door behind me, and my feet crunch in the gravel as I follow Emma toward the warm and welcoming light of home.
I won't tell you this is how it ends. I won't tell you this is where it ended. Those things would be lies. But I'll tell you this: the road is as long as you want it to be, and every accident can be a blessing, if you're willing to look past the bad parts and find the good ones, like the friends who wait for you on the other side. I won't tell you this is my whole story, but it's as much as I'm going to share right now.
If you ever need me, I'll be there to get you home. And in all the Americas, from midnight to noon and in-between, the truckers roll out, and the diners stand like cathedrals of the road, and the beat...the beat goes on.