Last Snow

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Authors: Eric Van Lustbader
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the grime off the magician’s lamp. The real Alli, or rather the Alli Jack knew in their quiet, private moments together, appeared like a genie with the power to charm whoever laid eyes on her.
    “My name’s Alli. Jack’s my father,” Alli said, taking off her midnight blue parka and plopping herself down on the seat across from Annika.
    “I’m Annika.” She held out a hand, which Alli took briefly.
    She looked Annika over critically, analytically, as if she were Anna Wintour interviewing a potential assistant. “But, really, you
are
thinking of him as a fuck puppet, aren’t you?”
    Annika appeared not to have taken offense at any of Alli’s deliberate provocations. Not yet, anyway. “What makes you say that?”
    “Look at you, I’d get a nosebleed in those fuck-me pumps. Look how you’re dressed with the tops of your boobs popping out, look how you’re made up with lips and nails the color of blood. And, my God, you smell like a well-used whorehouse.”
    “My friend and I were going clubbing,” Annika said mildly.
    Alli leaned across the aisle and leered at her. “Oh, yeah, that explains it.”
    “You know, I think this is your problem, not mine,” Annika said. “You’re acting like a jealous lover.”
    Alli recoiled as if bitten, which, in a sense, she had been. “What the fuck?”
    “Yes, you have the best of both worlds. You have a father who isn’t really your father.” Annika pressed her advantage in a way that, though not quite cruel, led Jack to believe that in fact she had been stung, or at the very least had been made to feel that she had entereda field of battle. “It’s okay to have a crush on this man, isn’t it? To have fantasies about him, sexual and otherwise.”
    “You don’t know me at all,” Alli said as stiffly as a soldier addresses his superior.
    “On the contrary,” Annika replied, relentless, “I know you quite well. Unlike Mr. McClure, your real father is a constant shadow looming over you. You prefer to think of him as an impostor, even while you crave his approval and his love.”
    “Hello, ladies,” Jack said, stepping between them, both literally and figuratively, “getting to know one another?”
    “Fuck no,” Alli said, standing up. “She’s a stone-cold psycho.”
    Jack put his hand on her shoulder. “Sit down, Alli, we have some things to talk about.”
    “Mr. McClure,” Annika said with a certain urgency, “it would be prudent to leave, don’t you think?”
    “In a moment,” Jack said as soothingly as he could. “This situation has to be straightened out before we can take off.”
    “What situation?” Alli said. “Let’s go. I’m ready, the psycho-bitch is ready, what’s the problem?”
    “You,” Jack said. “You’re not going with us.”
    Alli crossed her arms over her breasts. “Oh, but I am.”
    “Alli, be reasonable—”
    “Not my strong suit.”
    Despite himself Jack allowed his anger to spill over. “Don’t play the damaged girl card with me.”
    “I
am
damaged. You know that better than anyone else.”
    “You’re too smart to be damaged in the way your doctors and your parents fear.” Jack stared her down; someone had to be the alpha dog, otherwise things would remain out of control. “You know it and I know it, so let’s cut the bullshit. You know the rules. Whatever mind games you play with other people you don’t play with me.”
    She broke off the staring contest and gazed down at the floor.“I’m dying back in that hotel room, Jack.” Her voice had shrunk to the size of a grain of sand. “I can’t go back. Please, I’m begging you.”
    “Where I’m going is too dangerous—”
    “Not too dangerous to take the psycho-bitch, is it?” she said acidly.
    “Apples and oranges,” Jack said sternly. “Alli, set your mind to it, you’re going back. I can’t let anything bad happen to you.”
    She rose again, facing him, her face imploring. “But, don’t you get it, if I stay one more night in that

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