by Cate Tiernan
I was headfirst into the car’s backseat when I suddenly felt someone watching me. I grabbed Nan’s two bottles of wine and stood up quickly, thinking, Luc.
But it was Richard who leaned against the next car, Richard who was watching me with those dark brown eyes. “Hello,” he said. “Nice bouvre.” He was wearing beat-up green fatigue pants and a white T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off.
“Do any of your shirts have sleeves?” I asked.
He gave me a little grin. “In the winter.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head so he was naked from the waist up. I saw he had another thorny tribal tattoo on his smooth chest. Then he leaned through an open car window and pulled out his own bouvre, which was raw silk, streaky brown and gold, like his hair. He pulled it on and it settled lovingly around him. Then, as if I wasn’t even there, he reached under it and I heard his pants unsnap. Immediately I turned and started walking away.
“Wait,” he said.
I turned to him, glad I was wearing two-inch wedge espadrilles. He was only an inch or two taller than me now. I stood there stone-faced as he kicked out of his fatigues and picked them up off the ground.
“If you’re trying to make me go mad with lust, you’re failing,” I said in a bored tone.
He gave me a slight grin and pushed his clothes into the car. Then out came the ever-present cigarette, which he lit.
“I have to go,” I said impatiently.
He pulled on the cigarette, his head down, as if he was thinking. Then he looked up at me again and blew the smoke out of his nose, like a dragon.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said, and I blinked in surprise.
“For what?”
“Kissing you. The other night.”
I looked at him suspiciously, but there was no irony in his eyes, no second meaning behind his words. I shrugged and shook my head, not knowing what to say.
“I didn’t mean to,” he went on. “I won’t do it again.”
He gave me a little smile, almost sad, then turned and walked to the clearing. I heard Daedalus call his name. I stood there frozen, pulling in a shallow, silent breath. Swallowing hard, I realized I felt shaken, which was ridiculous. There was absolutely no reason why I would feel upset or even, goddess, hurt, just because Richard hadn’t meant his kiss.
It didn’t matter to me at all.
“Can I have some wine?” I asked Nan breathlessly when I got back.
She poured me half a glass. “That has to last you all night.”
“Okay.” She moved off, now talking to Axelle, Jules, and Ouida. I took a sip, feeling its warmth as it went down, and realized wine was the last thing I wanted right now. I put it down.
“Do we have any lemonade?” I asked Thais. “Or water? Iced tea?”
“Tea. Here.” She handed me a glass already poured. “So, the wine—it doesn’t matter that you’re underage?”
I thought about it. “Well, I’m not driving, and it’s just half a glass. You know, it’s just tradition. Family tradition. French families start giving their children a tiny bit of wine at dinner when they’re just little kids. I mean, I’m not hanging out at the 7-Eleven, swilling beer.”
Thais nodded, processing. “You know, these boo-thingies are really comfortable,” she said. “And it even looks okay on the male people.”
I drank almost half the tea right away. “That’s better. Yeah, they’re like kilts,” I agreed. “On the right guy, they can even be really sexy.” Then I winced. We both knew who we’d be seeing in a bouvre tonight.
Besides Richard, that is. I kept my back to the clearing, not wanting to see him again. I hadn’t told Thais about his kissing me, hadn’t even told Racey. Usually I told Racey everything, so I didn’t know why I had kept it to myself.
I felt Thais stiffen by my side and turned. She was staring at me, her eyes wide and leaf green. Then I felt Luc’s presence getting nearer. I reached out one hand and patted her arm, and she tried to smile.
We turned to look at him at the same time.
“Loser,” I said coolly in greeting.
Luc’s beautiful dark blue eyes looked into mine, as if he could see my soul. Goddess, what was it with me and guys? A guy had never knocked me off balance before in my life, yet Luc and now even Richard seemed to do it as easily as breathing.
Luc nodded. “Yes. I have lost,” he said, and just hearing his voice sent shivers down my spine. Instantly my body woke up, every nerve ending coming to life, remembering his touch, his kisses, the way he felt when we were lying together.
Thais wasn’t even looking at him, just staring at the ground, her body as stiff as a statue. I felt a second of irritation with her—I wanted her to have the Clio coolness, Clio strength. I didn’t want her to seem this young, this vulnerable. It was almost like it made me look weak.
“How’s your boyfriend?” Luc asked her, his voice chilly.
She looked up then, and I saw a spark in her eyes that surprised me. “He’s fine,” she said evenly, and I almost smiled. “Maybe I’ll see him later tonight.” She sounded distant, uninterested, and I was proud of her.
Luc’s face flushed and his eyes narrowed. He wasn’t going to win any awards for his ability to conceal emotion. My jaw clenched. Emotion he felt for my sister. “We won’t be done till late,” he said, his voice tight.
Thais shrugged casually and took a sip of tea. “That’s okay.”
“It didn’t take you long,” he said, sounding angry.
Thais shrugged again. I saw a faint pink tinge on her neck—she was about to flush. She wasn’t as unaffected by Luc as she was pretending. She put her glass down and walked away without another word, leaving me and Luc alone.
“Why don’t you run after her?” I asked snidely. I shook my hair back over my shoulders, feeling anger erupting inside my chest. “She’s the one you care about.”
Luc turned to face me. I thought he would snap something and take off, but he didn’t. “It isn’t only Thais I care about,” he said, sounding tired. He ran one hand through his dark hair and looked at me. He was almost six feet tall, much taller than Richard. “I absolutely care about you, Clio, sincerely.”
I was so taken aback I couldn’t come up with an acid-etched answer.
“I met you first, and it was your beauty that first captured me,” he went on in a low voice. “I love your fire and your strength. You own your body, you know how to use it. You knew what you wanted from me. You know what you want in general. That all appeals to me greatly.”
I took a quick sip of my tea so I wouldn’t run screaming into the woods. The worst part was, I wanted to believe him—even almost did believe him. I wanted him so much, I needed his lies to be true.
“Then you met my sister and went for the two for one?” I asked, proud of myself for my voice not wavering.
Luc winced, and I wanted to hold him, press his head against my chest and stroke his hair and comfort him. Can we say “masochist”?
“I made a huge mistake. I treated you both unfairly and faithlessly. I’m very sorry, Clio—believe me. I never meant to hurt you. I was happy when I was with you, and I had hoped to make you happy too.”
“Then you might want to try not two-timing me with my twin sister.” My teeth were clenched tight, my hands curled at my sides. I was furious at him for lying, for manipulating me, and I was even more furious at myself for wanting him anyway.
I stalked away, trying to calm down. It was bad enough I felt this way without anyone knowing. Having it be public would be more than I could bear.
Nan and Thais were setting up the large circle, helped by Manon and Jules. Daedalus seemed to be reading from a large, old book. Sophie and Ouida were talking, their arms full of leafy branches. Axelle was at another table, putting a piece of cheese on a cracker. Everyone was busy—I could take a minute to get a grip. I ducked into the woods and almost immediately yelped when someone grabbed me.
“What do you want?” I sputtered, yanking my arm
out of Richard’s grasp.
“I don’t know,” he said, frowning. “I don’t know”
Then, before I could say a word, his head came down and his mouth was on mine. He leaned against me with enough force to push me back a foot against the broad trunk of a live oak. My eyes opened wide in surprise, and then his arms were around me, protecting my bare back from the rough tree bark. He slanted his head a different way to kiss me more deeply, and still I hadn’t reacted, hadn’t pushed him away, wasn’t even kissing him back.
All I could think was, He just said he wouldn’t do this again.
And, He said he hadn’t meant it.
And, Luc was just yanking my chain. He loves Thais.
Finally, This…feels … good.
I put my hands out and gripped Richard’s upper arms, thinking, I’ve got to get out of here. Then every thought I had just evaporated. My eyes slowly shut and my whole body relaxed, pressed between him and the tree. His arms were smooth and hard under my hands, his skin warm. I opened my mouth and kissed him back, felt his surprise, his body tighten. My hands slid up his shoulders and held him more closely against me, one hand keeping his head in place.
I was so heartsore over Luc, over everything that had happened. It felt so wonderful to feel good again, just for a minute.
Suddenly Richard broke the kiss, leaving me gasping. “Say my name,” he said, breathing hard while I blinked stupidly at him. “Say my name.”
“Richard,” I said breathlessly. “Ree-shard.”
He kissed me again, harder, and I gave up completely, pressing myself against him, feeling his lithe hardness, his smooth, wiry muscles. The cloth of his robe was soft and thin, and our bodies felt so close. Richard was more my size, fit easily into my arms, against my body. He pushed one knee between mine, pressing my bouvre back against my legs.
I heard myself making little sounds, hungry sounds I’d heard before, and I thought, I want him.
“Clio? Clio!”
Someone was calling me. Nan. I pushed Richard away. We stared at each other, panting, my hands on his shoulders, his around my waist.
“Thais, go find Clio, will you?” I heard Nan ask.
“Oh God!” I whispered. I whipped my hands away from him as if electrified. “God!”
Richard stepped back from me, his face flushed, hunger in his eyes. He looked as shocked as I felt.
“I—damn it,” he said, breathing hard, sounding appalled. “I didn’t—”
I just stared at him, unable to process what I had been doing.
I turned and walked quickly away, smoothing my hair with my hands. I tugged down on the skirt of my gown, feeling limp and overheated. When I was closer to the tables, I came back out of the woods.
“Nan?” I called, striving for normalcy. “Did you want me?”
She turned at the sound of my voice. I saw that the other members of the Treize were gathering in the circle. The sun was setting; it was time to begin. I took off my shoes and walked barefoot through the grass, not looking at Luc. On the opposite side of the woods, Richard came out into the clearing. He carefully didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at him.
It was hot and sticky, as usual. Clio’s face was flushed and pink from the heat, and I guessed that I looked the same. The circle was forming; people were gathering. Luc walked over from the tables, and Richard came out of the woods across the clearing. I wanted to be next to Clio or Petra or Ouida, but people started linking hands, and I ended up between Jules and Richard. After Jules, there was Sophie, Daedalus, Petra, Manon, then Clio. On Clio’s other side was Axelle, then Luc, and finally Ouida, on Richard’s other side. Richard’s hand was warm and dry, his fingers firm and strong.
I glanced at Clio, and she gave me a little smile. She looked upset or tense, and I figured seeing Luc again was throwing her off. I actually felt weirdly calm and confident. I finally knew what my element was, and this was the first time I would make “big” magick with that knowledge. I hoped I would feel magick coming alive inside me. It was a little scary, but Petra and Ouida were here, and somehow they made me feel safe.
“Friends,” Daedalus began, “our journey to this point has been unexpected and harder than we could have known. Yet how glad I am to share this Rècolte celebration with you, the people I have known longest, the people I grew up with. And how glad I am to welcome Clio and Thais to our circle.”
He smiled and nodded at both of us, and Ouida smiled at us encouragingly. As Daedalus went on, I remembered to calm my breathing and release any lingering tension inside me. Luc—I just had to let it go. I rolled my shoulders and breathed out, counting to four, and then breathed in, counting to four. I tried to clear my mind of everything around me and open it to everything I could receive from everyone else.
Slowly we started moving clockwise in our circle. The sun would set in another three or four minutes—it was deep twilight, and the woods behind me were black.
I closed my eyes and listened as Daedalus started the chant. I’d never heard it before, but Petra had told me that each sabbat had its own traditions, songs, and foods, just like with Christianity or any other religion. I liked how the Bonne Magie emphasized having a cycle, with no beginning and no end. Everything we did here tonight could be done next year at Rècolte. Everyone around me had done almost exactly this at every other Rècolte they’d celebrated throughout their lives. And after this, the next holiday was Monvoile, which came on Halloween, and then Soliver at the winter solstice. The sun rose and set, the seasons bloomed and died, everything was a circle, an unending rhythm. I’d never thought about life like that, and I really liked it. It gave a sort of structure and sense of permanence to my confusing, impermanent life.
All at once I realized that the Treize itself was unnatural, out of cycle. These people had been born and should have lived and then died, their natural cycle. Then they would have been born again, and their souls would have another lifetime to try to improve and advance farther on their path, according to their beliefs, as Petra had explained them to me.
But the Treize hadn’t died. They’d been born but become stuck in a static, linear life. How weird. Was it having some effect? Like, on their souls or even on the world around them? I didn’t know—didn’t even know if I believed all that.
Next to me, Jules’s beautiful, deep voice started to weave in and out in the chant. Most people were singing now. I didn’t have my own personal song, but I just closed my eyes and thought about water, my element, and everything it meant to me. Then I opened my mouth and let whatever came to me become a sound.
At first I sang very softly, not wanting to mess anyone else up if I was doing it wrong. But I felt like I was actually singing a song and not just making a bunch of unconnected sounds. It felt like there was a song already written inside me that I was letting out. It felt good, and natural. I let my voice join the others lightly, following them without trying to be louder or alone, just blending. Slowly, as I concentrated, faint impressions came to me.
I focused on opening my senses, and gradually I was able to separate out emotions and people. I almost caught my breath—it was incredible. I could actually feel that Manon was unhappy and that she also felt guilty. About what? And Daedalus was already sending out waves of triumph, as though some goal had been achieved. That was creepy.
I tried deliberately reaching out to Sophie, just to see what would happen. To my surprise, I was hit with a wave of sadness that was so strong I opened my eyes. Her face looked impassive, the same as always, but her large brown eyes were haunted, and I felt a sense of desperation—almost steely resolve. To do what?
From Ouida, I felt calm, radiating peace and love—what a relief. She felt wary but was concentrating on sending out only good. Thank heavens. Then there was Luc. I couldn’t help it—I opened my eyes and shot a quick glance at him. His eyes were closed; he was singing, joining in with the others. I felt a deep wave of remorse and longing coming from him. He was so beautiful, so haunted in the deepening twi
light. Suddenly I was fiercely glad that he was there, that we were both part of making magick, no matter how far apart we were. With no warning, I felt a powerful rush of love and sad desire for him. I tried to squelch it immediately, but it was too late. He felt it. His eyes popped open and he stared at me. Quickly I looked away, swallowing my feelings, but my eyes caught Clio’s. She’d been watching Luc. She’d seen us looking at each other. Miserably I wondered if she’d felt my emotions. I hoped not. Deliberately I closed my eyes and cleared my mind again. I held Jules’s and Richard’s hands firmly, our feet doing a grapevine to the left endlessly, over and over.
Okay, Axelle now. Mostly I got a sense of impatient irritation.
Richard, right next to me, felt more closed off, as if he was concentrating on not sending out anything. What little I picked up felt like confusion, anger, doubt.
I opened my eyes a slit and looked at Clio again. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed and damp. She looked… beautiful. Did that mean I did too?
Relax. Concentrate. In the middle of the circle a small fire burned. Near it, at the four points of the compass, were thick gold pillar candles inside tall hurricane-glass holders two feet high. The fire was ringed with stones, and between the candles were stone bowls of water. I let myself feel each element, concentrating on water—cool, flowing, powerful, endless, timeless. I let my voice grow stronger. Our circle was moving more swiftly now. Petra had explained that the Rècolte song had once had actual words, but that they’d been lost over the centuries. It seemed so odd that this had been going on for centuries and until now, I hadn’t ever heard about it. But the song had once praised the earth for growing people’s food, praised the sun for keeping everything alive, and praised rain for nourishing them as well as their crops. It was all about how the earth had given to them and they had taken. Next spring, they would give back to the earth when they planted things and enriched the soil. It was about the promise of returning life in return for the life they had received.