She was being pretty vague, but I thought I had a sense of the picture. “You refused him?”

“I did. The time was not right for either of us. He has much life to lead. And even when he is ready, the time may never be right.” She shrugged. “That’s the way of things.”

It was a depressing way, but since she’d lived a life very different from mine, I didn’t think it was fair to judge.

•   •   •

Since I’d gotten my answer, which was much less dramatic than I thought it would be, I bound the magic into the box again, and she finally let me eat.

We made our way downstairs, where darkness had fallen over the Quarter, and prepared to finish off the bread, the carrots, a jar of pickles Gavin unearthed from one of the kitchen cabinets, and a bottle of wine I’d been saving. This seemed as good a time as any to indulge.

We divvied up the food, poured the wine into my mismatched jars, and made a kind-of meal at the cypress table. We skipped the lights for a few dim candles. The less light, the less would be visible to curious people on the street.

“You know what I’d like?” Gavin asked, sipping his wine. “A steak. A big steak with a baked potato slathered in butter and sour cream.”

“You could get those things outside the Zone,” Nix pointed out.

Gavin looked at her. “There are a lot of things outside the Zone that aren’t here. But that doesn’t make that world any better.”

Since that comment was clearly meant for Nix—and about Nix—and not for our ears, I looked away and caught Liam’s gaze. He rolled his eyes with amusement.

“What about you, Nix? What do you miss most about the Beyond?”

She looked surprised by the question. I’d thought about asking if she had a favorite food, but she hadn’t really joined the conversation, so I guessed her thoughts were on other things, other memories.

“Everything,” she finally said. “I miss everything. It was my home, my heart. Where I came from. I would like to go home again.”

“What was it like?” I asked.

“My land was green. Beautifully green, with rolling hills that dropped into the deepest sea, and deep forests so thick and dark that sunlight only barely filtered through to the floor. Crystal blue lakes, snow-covered peaks. It is a land of extremes, but a beautiful and fertile one.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. It was the only thing I could think to say.

She nodded. “Not all of us feel the same. Some dread the dissension, war, that is probably still waging there.”

I nodded, sipped my wine in the silence that had descended heavily again. Probably time to change the subject, I thought, and looked at the brothers Quinn. “We know about the Arsenaults. What about the Quinns? Where did they come from?”

“The bottom of a rum and Coke,” Gavin said, and he and Liam clinked glasses.

“Let’s just say my mother made a bad choice when she hooked up with a jazz-playin’, hard-drinkin’ Cajun named Buddy Quinn,” Liam said.

“Which Arsenault daughter was your mother?” There’d been five of them, all beautiful girls with dark hair and blue eyes.

“Juliet,” Liam said. “The oldest.”

I smiled. “I forgot they all had Shakespearean names.”

“Thierry Arsenault loved Shakespeare,” Gavin said, then held out his hands. “Had one of those big all-in-one volumes of it. Used to read it after dinner. He was a complicated man. An interesting one.”

I nodded. The clock chimed, struck ten. We all looked over, watched as Little Red Riding Hood moved through the forest.