by Jane Kindred
* * * * *
Back at the house, I met with Lukas as he’d asked, in the indoor garden. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his slate-blue cargo pants, gazing out at the rain coming down through the trees. The wet trunks of redwoods, vivid with earthy color, made a striking contrast to his silhouette against the glass.
He turned at the sound of my footfall on the wood floor, and for an instant, the moss-green eyes registered pleasure at the sight of me before darkening into wary animosity. “Do you have any idea how stupid it is to be fucking Ares Apostolou?”
“Less stupid than fucking you, I’d think.”
“Only marginally.” He folded his arms and then unfolded them again as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. “This is so messed up. I can’t even—I see you with him and it’s like a punch in the gut.”
“I didn’t do it to get back at you, Lukas. I was feeling raw, and he was there.”
“Yes, feeling raw—because I nearly assaulted you against a tree.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
“It doesn’t matter what happened. It shouldn’t have happened. It shouldn’t have almost happened. I shouldn’t feel this way every time I look at you, every time I think of you. But I do.” He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “But that isn’t why I wanted to see you. I think you and I should be prepared for what’s going to happen.”
“What’s going to happen?”
Lukas began to pace before the window. “You and I have the most likely motive. It will come out that we had a relationship. It may well come out that I molested you in the woods at the wake of my just-murdered wife.”
“Don’t use that word, dammit.”
“What word? Murdered? Wife?”
“You know what word. Molested. As if I were some child who didn’t know my own mind. As if you were actually my uncle.”
“I am actually your uncle, Millie.”
“Not like you mean.”
He ignored me. “And that’s going to come out as well. And people can think what they like. They will anyway. But Konstantin is what matters to me. My relationship with Aravella is going to be dragged through the mud, and that’s going to hurt him. And things are liable to come out about Aravella and me that might shock you—”
“I know about the circle.”
Lukas stopped in his tracks and stared at me. “Lumi?”
“She was showing me pictures of my mother. There were…other…pictures in her photo album she’d forgotten about.” I’d stepped closer to him without realizing it, and I felt a little dizzy looking up at him, imagining him wearing the leather pants and boots as he’d done in the pictures. The effects of the pill I’d taken to face the sight of Cole at the hospital had reached the slightly stoned phase.
Lukas colored. “I’m sorry you had to see those. It wasn’t my idea. Aravella—she wanted to prove to me that she belonged to me and no one else.”
“I’m not judging you.” I’m just imagining how your collar felt around her neck. I looked away, heat rising in my cheeks, and Lukas went back to pacing.
“The thing is, Millie, they’re liable to think you and I are both guilty. That we planned the murder to be together. If anyone witnessed what happened between the two of us at the wake, it will make things worse.” He turned to face me, leaning back against the glass. “Ares was watching, wasn’t he.”
I swallowed. “He wouldn’t say anything.”
“You’re being naïve. Let’s just say for the sake of argument he actually isn’t using you and wouldn’t deliberately implicate you in Aravella’s murder by giving that story to the sheriff. Do you think he’d have such reservations about implicating me? All he’d have to do is say I was assaulting you and he stopped it. Then I become the prime suspect, and you become just another of my victims.”
I wanted to say Ares would never do that, but I couldn’t.
Lukas spoke quietly. “I think maybe that should be your story too.” For a moment, I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. “And I want you to take care of Koste for me if things come to the worst.” His voice trembled. “But you tell him it isn’t true.”
“What?”
“He can’t go to Thessaloniki. He has to stay close to the Grove. I don’t know if they’d give the aunts custody at their age. But you’re my closest relative.” Pain was etched on his face when he said it. “And he adores you. And the estate will be yours.”
“Lukas!” I stepped toward him, my hand almost swinging up to slap him, but I grabbed his collar instead. “Stop it! I’m not going to accuse you of something you didn’t do!”
“Koste can’t lose us both—you mean too much to him now. He can’t think we were having an incestuous affair and conspired to kill his mother. I can’t have that be what he believes.”
I grabbed the other lapel and shook him. “Then we have to find out who killed her before that happens, dammit. And we can start by finding out who was driving your car yesterday afternoon.”
Lukas blinked. “My car?”
“Your car, or one astoundingly like it, hit Cole. And I believe it was aiming for Konstantin.”
He jerked back against my grip so hard, he slammed his head against the glass, but Lukas didn’t seem to feel it. “What the fuck? It was my car? You’re certain? And you’re certain it was deliberate?”
“As certain as I can be. If your car has recent damage to the front of it, I’ll be sure.”
Lukas’s breath was ragged. “Why didn’t you tell the sheriff that?”
My gaze skittered away from his, but I forced it back. I had to look him in the eye. “I was afraid it might have been you behind the wheel.”
The hurt in his eyes kicked me in the gut. “You thought I tried to run Koste down?”
“I didn’t know what to think. That’s why I didn’t say anything until I was sure.”
“And now you’re sure.” The moss-green gaze searched mine. “Why?”
“Because I know you, Lukas.”
He shook his head. “If you could think it even for a minute, you don’t know me at all.” Lukas pushed away from the glass wall, making me stumble back to avoid him, and left me in the garden.
* * * * *
Heading back to my room, I realized I hadn’t seen Konstantin since the accident. I peeked in on him and found him not in his bed but lounging on the cushions of his bay window seat playing with a handheld videogame console, the boot cast actually tucked up under him as if he’d forgotten all about it. The leafy trees outside the window surrounded him in his little nook, making it seem they were protecting him. Perhaps they were.
“Hey you,” I said from the door.
Konstantin looked up slowly, absorbed in the game, but stopped playing when he saw me. “Millie!” It took me by surprise when he hopped down from the seat and crossed the room, his gait swift as he hobbled toward me and threw his arms around my waist. “Nobody would tell me where you were.” His voice was muffled against my shirt. “I thought maybe you left. Or something bad happened to you.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.” I hugged him tight. “I’ve been at the hospital with my friend.”
He pushed away so he could look up at me. “Is he going to be okay?”
My first instinct was to lie to him, but Konstantin wasn’t stupid, and I’d hated being lied to about important things as a kid, as if I couldn’t understand something serious. And important things as an adult, for that matter. Which was what had brought me here. “I don’t know. But I hope he will. All I can do is wait and see if he gets better.”
“Can’t he do physical therapy like I did?”
“He’s definitely going to need some when he wakes up,” I said carefully. “They just don’t know when that’s going to be.”
Konstantin’s face fell. “It’s my fault. He got hit bec
ause of me.”
“No, he didn’t. Don’t even think that. He got hit because the driver of that car was irresponsible. He got you out of the way because that’s the kind of guy he is. He didn’t want you to get hurt and he wouldn’t want you to feel guilty.” Konstantin looked unconvinced. “I mean it, Koste. It was not your fault. I want you to say it. Come on: It wasn’t my fault.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Konstantin muttered.
It was a start. “Now, what do you say we watch New Moon?” He cheered at that considerably, and I found myself watching the shifter scenes with greater interest, thinking of how the rådande must find out about who they were when they came of age. What was it like for them, and why had I never experienced anything that might have hinted at my nature? I’d always loved the woods, but I’d hadn’t felt any great pull toward them. Puberty had been, on the other hand, when my affinity for starting fires had kicked into overdrive.
I wanted to know, suddenly, where my tree was. I needed to see it.
* * * * *
When I found Roger in the salon later that afternoon to ask if I could have a car, Basil, reading by the fireplace, overheard me.
“You shouldn’t be driving with a concussion. I’m heading into Jerusalem in a bit. Where do you need to go?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes—there seemed to be no end to Meliae males who wanted to protect me from myself—and graciously accepted. “Actually, I was going to Jerusalem too. That would be great if you could give me a ride. You can just drop me off at the Such Stuff Café.”
* * * * *
The rain that had slowed to a light drizzle over the course of the day had stopped by the time we headed out, but the overcast sky seemed to promise more.
Basil glanced over at me with curiosity. “Alexis tells me you only just learned about your heritage.”
I had no recollection of discussing my paternity with Alexis. “Alexis told you or Ares did?”
Basil smiled. “Often, talking to one is talking to the other. There are no secrets between them. Sometimes they just know things the other one’s done without talking at all. Their trees are joined at the roots.” My face warmed as I thought about the implications of “things the other one’s done”. One way or another, it seemed, my intimacy with Ares was already common knowledge.
I sighed. “Well, you’re right. This is all very new to me. It’s a lot to absorb.”
“On my island, it’s taboo to talk about the Meliae, so I can imagine what you’re going through. I had no family support, only whispered legends among schoolchildren.”
I studied him with interest. “How did you learn…what you are?”
“Quite by accident. While learning to drive, I ran off the road into a ditch making too broad a turn and crashed the car into a banyan tree. We were taught never to anger them, because they were the home of dangerous spirits, so I got out and went to apologize. I put my hand on the host tree—the banyans grow around the trunks of other trees—and found myself…aware, I suppose you could say, of the tree’s perspective. It was rather disconcerting. I could feel the roots of the banyan strangling me though I was standing outside it.”
Basil gave a little shudder at the memory. “I thought it was the diwata, the spirit of the banyan, attacking me, and I ran. When I got home, I received a beating for wrecking the car and leaving it on the side of the road. I told my father what I’d experienced—and earned a more severe beating. He told me never to speak of the family ‘curse’ again, and when he learned later that I’d begun to seek out knowledge of the Meliae, I was disowned.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I’m so sorry, Basil. That must have been hard.”
His shoulders lifted lightly. “It was our custom. He only knew what he was taught by his own father and mother. He married outside the family, hoping to escape passing on the ‘curse’, and I disappointed him.”
We were on Main Street now, the glow of lights through the charming storefront windows injecting a welcome cheer into the gloom of the cloudy afternoon.
“And then I met Alexis through an online forum and found all the family I needed.” He pulled up in front of the café and turned to me with a grin. “And then some.” Meliae dating sites. Who knew?
I thanked him for the ride, and Basil put a hand on my wrist as I reached for the door handle. “If you haven’t stepped into a hollow yet, be careful. It can be a bit overwhelming. You should be with someone you trust the first time you do it.”
Something in his tone unnerved me slightly, and I tried to make light of his words. “Like the first time you take mushrooms or LSD.”
“A bit like that, yes. Or like your first sexual experience. Who you’re with and the environment you’re in can make all the difference. If you feel comfortable with Ares, perhaps he could walk you through it.”
I blushed at the obvious parallel. Ares had hardly been my first sexual experience, but the implication was there that the experience I’d had with him might be similar. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I mumbled and stepped out into the drizzle.
“Do you need me to pick you up on my way back?” Basil called out his window as I headed up the steps to the café.
“No, thanks. I’ll have Lumi run me back to the Strand.” I waved him on his way and pulled open the door, relieved to find Lumi at the counter. Once again, I hadn’t thought to call ahead and let her know I was coming.
She came around the counter to greet me with surprise. “Millie! How are you doing?” Lumi gave me a warm hug. “I wasn’t expecting to see you out and about so soon. Everything okay?”
“I’m fine. Really. No dizziness, just a bit of a headache.”
“You didn’t drive here, did you?” She eyed me sternly.
“No, I caught a ride with Basil.”
Lumi led me to a booth. “Something’s on your mind.”
I slid into the seat with a sigh. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Aravella’s death has been ruled a homicide.”
“Oh, dear. And have they…?”
“No one’s been arrested yet. Lukas thinks there’s enough circumstantial evidence to arrest both of us, though. And he’s being ridiculous, telling me to accuse him of attacking me so they’ll think he’s guilty instead of me.”
Lumi shook her head. “That boy. He tries to take everything on himself. He blamed himself for what happened to Vella—not this, I mean, but…before.”
“He blamed himself?” I was taken aback. “But he seemed to hate her for it. She thought he did, anyway.”
“It’s how he’s always responded to the guilt he heaps on himself, lashing out at other people. Which makes him feel even more guilt.”
“But how could it have been his fault? He didn’t know until later.”
“Lukas thinks she tried to tell him, but he didn’t hear what she was saying. That if he’d really listened, he’d have understood she was in turmoil over what she had to do. But he was still resisting the marriage, resenting the agreement. And when he realized what she’d done for her family, it nearly killed him that he’d been too wrapped up in his own head to see it.”
I pondered what he’d said this morning. “So he joined the circle to try to be what Aravella needed.”
Lumi nodded. “She felt she needed absolution. In the circle, Lukas was her atonement. It wasn’t in his nature, but he turned out to be an extraordinary dom when he wanted to be.”
The image of Lukas in his leathers sprang mercilessly to mind, and I closed my eyes as though it were before me and I could stop seeing if I didn’t look. With a jump at the touch of Lumi’s hand on mine, I opened them again.
“I don’t mean to presume, hon, but if there’s anything you need to explore safely to deal with your feelings for Lukas, you could negotiate with Freyr. We have an open arrangement when it comes to play.”
I pulled my hand away
. “I’m sorry. It’s just not for me.” Lumi nodded with an understanding smile but said nothing. “I actually came to ask you something else. I need to know—do you know where my tree is planted?”
There was an inkling of something troubled in her expression. “Why do you want to know that?”
“Why?” I wrinkled my brow. “Why wouldn’t I want to know? Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”
Lumi shifted on the bench. “It can be dangerous to become too connected to your tree’s physicality while you still maintain a mortal body. Stepping into a hollow is one thing, but merging with your own tree… It can be difficult to separate yourself afterward. Not just physically but, for lack of a better word, emotionally.”
“I don’t want to step into it. I just want to see it. I need to know I’m really who everyone says I am.”
“Seeing it won’t convince you of that. You’ll need to touch. And from there, it’s difficult to resist stepping in.” Lumi frowned, shaking her head, but I held her gaze with a silent plea. With a sigh, she slapped her palms against her thighs. “But I can see that I’m not going to deter you from this, so I’ll take you to see it.” She rose, untying her apron. “Let me just go tell Freyr I’m stepping out.”
“Thank you, Lumi. I really appreciate this.”
* * * * *
I was quiet as we drove through the avenues of redwoods. I felt as if I were going to see my mother’s grave for the first time rather than anything connected to myself. I hadn’t dreamt of her again since learning of the rådande. Perhaps seeing the tree she’d planted would let me feel close to her.
The sun was out by the time we reached the Grove, and the place had a peaceful, somber air as its damp branches cast shadows and light that gently dappled the ground we walked over. We passed the main clearing where Aravella’s funeral had been held and moved into a more densely populated area, winding through trees and stepping over bracken until I wondered if Lumi were just leading me randomly. I couldn’t imagine how she kept track of the way.
Then without warning, she stopped and pointed at a cluster of trees ahead of us. “Just through there,” she said. “I’ll wait here to give you some privacy.”