Jessica lay with her head resting on Angelo's chest, one arm draped across his stomach, listening to him breathe. She couldn't count the number of times she'd lain thus, fearing that his breathing would stop or weeping for the loss of him.
In the past, she reminded herself, feeling his fingers toy with her hair. He was very nearly well, even if he continued to be frustrated by his lingering weakness, and even if he insisted on frustrating her with his stubbornness.
Of course, that was a frustration she could gladly grow used to, since it meant she had him back.
The hand in her hair had gone from playing to stroking, and Angelo said, "I suppose at some point we should go back inside."
"I suppose." Jessica sighed. It had been a wonderful day, with a picnic lunch under the trees, and an entire afternoon for the two of them to simply be together. Now, though, the dappled sunlight had mostly faded to shadows, and the air was beginning to take on an evening chill.
Neither of them had moved, though, by the time a small figure came dashing toward them from the direction of the house.
"Miss Jessica!" Mash stopped a few feet away, panting for breath. "Bangerz said for you to come quick."
"Why?" Jessica sat up. "What's wrong?"
"That man's back."
She bit her lip to keep from swearing, both at the news and at the stare she could feel Angelo leveling at her. "Tell him I'll be right there," she said, shoving herself to her feet as he raced off.
"What man?" Angelo asked.
She wished she could pretend she hadn't heard him. "It's nothing. I'll take care of it."
"Jess." He reached up, caught her wrist, and used his grip on her to help him rise. "Tell me the truth."
She could only bear to meet his eyes for a moment, then she bowed her head, forehead pressed against his chest. "Marcello," she whispered.
"Marcello," he repeated, his voice so neutral that for a moment she thought he didn't recognize the name, and didn't know whether to be horrified or relieved. Then she looked up, and could see all the conflict his voice lacked reflected in his eyes. "And what brings my dear brother to Alexandria?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "He arrived a few days after you were...hurt...asking about you. I told him you weren't here."
"Well, for all practical purposes I wasn't." Angelo smiled wryly. "Apparently, he's not so easily put off."
Jessica sighed. "You're going to insist on coming with me, aren't you?"
"Of course." He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her against his side. "I can hardly disappoint him again, can I?"
Bangerz ran to greet them as they approached the inn, expression filled with annoyance and wounded pride. "Jessica, I tried telling him he wasn't welcome here, but..."
He trailed off in a sound of frustration, and Angelo said, "Marcello rarely listens to anyone; don't take his ignoring you personally."
"He's a big jerk."
"You aren't the first person to make that observation." Angelo glanced at Jessica, but she didn't seem in the mood to share his amusement. "I take it he's gotten a room?"
"He said he's not leaving this time until he finds out where you are."
"Then I suppose I should make it easy for him." Angelo paused at the inn steps, taking Jessica in his arms. "Jess, I don't expect you to help me deal with him."
"Since I'm sure you're going to listen to him, I want to hear what he has to say." She leaned up to kiss him. "Besides, I don't trust him."
"He's made no secret that he's looking for me; under the circumstances, I hardly think he's going to slip a knife between my ribs."
She answered him with a look and pulled free, preceding him through the door, then stepping aside.
Marcello was still in the inn's small lobby, his back to them as he spoke with the innkeeper's wife. Angelo paused, irrationally startled to see his brother in something other than the familiar uniform of the Templar knights. Even in the sturdy, well worn traveling clothes, though, Marcello still carried himself like he was in uniform, a mixture of command and contempt which Angelo was surprised hadn't won him the full story of Angelo's whereabouts on his last visit to Alexandria.
Jessica captured his hand, squeezing hard before releasing him, and he wondered just what she'd seen in that moment of shock.
"I'd heard you were looking for me, brother."
A slight tensing of his shoulders was the only sign of surprise Marcello gave. "Yes, well I can't say I'm surprised nobody wants to admit to knowing you." He turned, his gaze flicking over Angelo, cool and disdainful. "And now I understand why you didn't want to see me the last time I was here."
"I wasn't available last time you were here. And I can't say I'm glad you've come back." Of course, he couldn't honestly say he wasn't, either, but neither Marcello nor Jessica needed to know that. Angelo crossed his arms and settled in for the familiar battle of wills, reminding himself that for once, Marcello didn't have the upper hand. "Is there a particular reason? I don't recall us parting on the best of terms."
"I had hoped to speak with you alone. Or is she your nanny rather than your wife?"
Angelo smirked, though he could tell Jessica was biting her tongue to keep from flaying his brother alive. "I'd tell Jess whatever you had to say, anyhow, so we may as well save time by letting her hear it first hand."
"Fine. Could we at least discuss this in the privacy of my room?"
Barely suppressed anger in his voice, and his eyes dark with impotent rage; Angelo couldn't count the number of times he'd seen Marcello like this, but always due to the risk of punishment if he acted on his anger. Normally, Angelo would have worried about retaliation later, except there was nothing forcing Marcello to restrain his temper now.
Which means he must want something pretty badly.
And if he wanted it that badly, he should have to work for it.
Angelo slipped an arm around Jessica. "What do you think?" he asked. "Should we talk to him privately?"
"I suppose. I don't really want to be seen talking to him, anyway."
Marcello's jaw tightened, but he merely bent to pick up the neatly rolled pack at his feet. He was traveling light, Angelo noted, and wondered if it was for speed or just convenience.
When they reached the room, Marcello made certain the door was locked, then turned to them. "I need your help," he said without preamble, and unfastened his left cuff, folding the sleeve back. "With this."
Jessica gasped at the sight of Marcello's arm, banded in rings of fresh scar tissue. Too fresh to be the reason he'd first come to Alexandria. Angelo frowned. "When did this happen?"
"Ten months ago."
"What?" Angelo stepped forward and caught Marcello's wrist as he started to roll the sleeve back down, studying the scars more closely. Not ten weeks old, much less ten months, and... "Dear Goddess, are those runes?"
"Very astute, little brother." Marcello snatched his arm free, yanking the sleeve down to cover the marks.
"So what do you want us to do?" Jessica asked; her tone was sharp, but her voice shook, probably too slightly for Marcello to notice.
Angelo noticed, though, and stepped back to wrap his arm around her again. She returned the embrace as he said, "First, tell us what happened."
"The creatures Rhapthorne unleashed on our world apparently think he can be brought back. With a suitable sacrifice."
Jessica went rigid, and Angelo pulled her a little closer, the hand on her waist squeezing gently. "You?"
"Yes. Apparently..." Marcello hesitated, then said, "Apparently the time I spent with the sceptre makes me stand out to them like a beacon."
"If that's true, then why are you still around to complain about it?" Jessica snapped.
"Because the timing wasn't right. It has to be done on the anniversary of Rhapthorne's defeat, and while I wasn't able to escape, I was able to delay them long enough that the opportunity passed."
"And in two months, they get another chance."
Marcello met his eyes. "Precisely. With the bulk of the...inscription...completed, they'll have no difficulty carrying out the ritual this time."
"And what do you want us to do?"
"Ordinary healing magic doesn't work, obviously, but I've done some research, and there's an artifact that might." The words were rushed, just a bit, not enough that a stranger would have noticed. "But," and now his shoulders stiffened, his expression taking on an edge of distaste, "it requires a powerful healer to make it function. Your magic has always been more powerful than mine."
"You're good at getting other people to do your dirty work," Jessica said, "surely you won't have any trouble finding someone else to help you."
"He wouldn't be here if he could have," Angelo said, and the renewed anger in Marcello's expression told him he was right.
"Of course I wouldn't. I would have been quite happy never seeing you again." He stopped, visibly getting his temper under control. "But I have no other options, and I am running out of time."
Angelo stopped himself before he could utter the retort that sprang to mind. The admission had cost Marcello, and Angelo didn't think the hint of desperate fear in the last words was an act. "All right," he said.
Marcello frowned, as if he hadn't expected that answer. "You'll come with me?"
Jessica was getting ready to explode; he could almost feel the fury coming off her, and ran a hand up her arm, squeezing gently, a silent plea to hold the argument until later. Miraculously, she remained silent, though her hand fisted into his shirt.
"Well, I certainly don't want to have to fight Rhapthorne again, so yes."
Marcello's shoulders slumped with relief before he caught himself. "Can you be ready to travel in two days?"
"I will be."
For a moment, Angelo let himself entertain the hope that Marcello might actually thank him, but his brother was already gathering his wounded pride like a cloak. "I'll expect to see you first thing in the morning, day after tomorrow, then."
"You'll see me as soon as I'm able to be here," he said, and saw Marcello's eyes narrow.
It was somehow easier to turn his back knowing Marcello was furious at his defiance; an old, familiar pattern, after all, and one they were unlikely to break after so many years. Beside him, Jessica was just as angry, though she gave no outward sign but her silence.
He expected her to break that silence as soon as they were outside; instead, it lay heavy between them, defying his half-hearted efforts at conversation, so that by the time they were in their bedroom Angelo couldn't bear it anymore. "Jess..."
She whirled away from him, her pent up fury released in a stinging slap across his face. "I can't believe you agreed to help him!"
"He's my brother; I can't just..."
"He hates you!"
Angelo flinched, because he knew it was true, and yet Marcello had come to him - been desperate enough to come to him - in spite of that. "He needs my help."
"He knows he can use you. And once he's gotten what he wants he will turn on you and I'll lose you. Do you honestly think I can live through that again?" Her voice was breaking, catching on the edge of sobs. "I will lose you. How can you even consider doing that to me?"
"Jess, please."
He moved toward her, and she stepped back, one hand raised, either in warning or because she actually intended to use magic against him. "Don't. Don't touch me, and don't pretend you love me."
"I do love you. You know that." He caught her upraised hand, cradled it between both of his. There were tears on her cheeks, and something between panic and desperation in her eyes. "But I have to do this."
"You don't," she whispered. She pressed her face against his neck. "Please don't."
He rested his cheek against the top of her head, put his arms around her, held her as she cried. He wished she could understand; he wished he fully understood. Because she was right about Marcello; he knew there was no real hope of reconciliation between them, knew Marcello didn't deserve his help and Jessica certainly didn't deserve to be put through the hell of worrying about him, after the hell he'd already put her through.
He knew all of that, and none of it mattered any more now than it had when Marcello asked, and he'd said yes.
Her tears finally eased, though she was still clinging to him in a way that made him regret his choice. "Jess, I promise..."
"Don't you dare make me a promise you can't keep."
Even with her voice muffled against him, there was no mistaking the threat, and he combed his fingers soothingly through her hair. "If you won't let me promise to return to you safely, then come with me."
"What?" She leaned back, glaring up at him. She was shaking, her breath still catching as she fought tears, and her glare had no real heat. "You expect me to help that...that..."
"Not for him." He stroked the last tears from her cheeks. "For me."
"You're infuriating."
"I know. Will you?"
She sighed. "You won't change your mind?"
"I can't. I'm sorry."
"Then of course I'll go with you. I'm not going to let you go off with him alone."
"Thank you."
He moved to kiss her, but she moved back, shaking her head, the resignation in her expression worse than the anger or tears. "Don't thank me for helping you do something stupid."
Angelo smiled at that, because she sounded normal, if not particularly pleased with him. "Think of it as protecting me from myself."
"Where Marcello's concerned, you obviously need it." She moved away completely, arms wrapped around herself. "If he's telling the truth, why haven't any of Rhapthorne's creatures come after me?"
"You didn't have the sceptre as long as Marcello did, and you certainly didn't have it willingly." Angelo shrugged, unwilling to think about the implications if he were wrong; enough that none of the dark creatures had ever come after Jessica, and he wasn't going to question why too closely. "Besides, I'd imagine your participation in Rhapthorne's defeat would make you singularly unfit to help resurrect him."
"So you believe his story."
"He's always hated asking for help; ordering is much more his style. And...you're right that he hates me. He wouldn't ask me for anything without a damned good reason." He wrapped his arms around her. "Besides, he didn't carve those runes into himself."
"Are you sure? After what he said on Neos..."
"Easier to just stab me in the back. This is too elaborate to waste on me." He kissed her. "Give me credit for knowing my brother at least that well."
"But not well enough to say no to him."
He shook his head. "That's just a matter of knowing myself a little too well."
They arrived at the inn later than Angelo suspected Marcello would prefer, and still earlier than Jessica wanted; Angelo hoped it wasn't a sign he'd be drawing both their ire for the duration of the journey.
To his surprise, a pair of horses stood patiently in front of the inn, bridled but not yet saddled. "Marcello's, do you think?" Jessica asked.
"There's your answer," he said as Marcello emerged from the inn and stood watching them, one hand on the larger horse's neck. "Can you ride?"
"Alistair taught me." She smiled at the memory. "Mother had a fit."
"I imagine Marcello's going to have a similar fit when he finds out we need another horse," Angelo said under his breath, and she giggled.
"I assume you remember how to ride?" Marcello called, before Jessica could say anything.
"Still better than you, I wager," Angelo retorted. They reached the horses, and he released Jessica to run his hands over one dark coat. "This is a surprise."
"I've only got two months. I'd like this to be over before then, and I didn't think we'd make it with you traveling under your own power."
"We'll need another mount. Jessica's coming with us," he said, refusing to rise to the bait.
"Do you think so?"
"Well, she is if you still want me to come."
"Afraid to leave home on your own?"
Finally, he looked at Marcello, a smile on his lips. "Do let me know how you're doing come the end of summer, won't you, brother?" he said, and stepped back from the horse, his arm once again going around Jessica. "I'm sure you'll have some interesting tales for us."
"Fine." Marcello's jaw was so tightly clenched Angelo was surprised he could get the words out. "She comes. I'll see about another horse."
To her credit, Jessica didn't start laughing until he was out of sight.
