by Laure Eve
‘Oh my god, henna,’ she said approvingly. ‘It looks great.’ I felt helplessly pleased. Summer basked in every bit of praise, loudly exclaiming how fabulously beautiful I was to whoever was in earshot. After the first couple of times, I managed to stop turning puce with embarrassment. Summer’s glee was infectious. She kept us topped up with the sloe gin cocktail from the brimming set of giant crystal bowls in the kitchen, and I swiped us the best of the food whenever I saw a chance.
So far I’d only caught sight of Fenrin from across the room, in deep conversation with different people. Thalia was with her mother most of the time, and together they laughed glittering laughs and made lovely teasing smiles. I would never be one of those who drew everyone to them like magnets and pins. I could try. I could study. But some people had it, and some people did not.
I wondered if Thalia enjoyed it as much as she seemed to.
Summer played a game with me. She’d point at someone in the room, and I’d try to guess what they did for a living. Most of the time I got it utterly wrong, much to her amusement. Her eyes fell on a man like a stringy cat with a restless energy to him. He had on violent blue eye shadow that popped against his dark skin.
‘Him,’ she said.
‘Oh god, I don’t know,’ I groaned. ‘He’s probably in the circus.’
‘Ha! That’s the closest you’ve come so far. His name’s Glorien, and he used to be a ballet dancer. One of the best.’
I leaned into her, mock despairing. ‘That’s not even a bit close.’
‘You are pretty bad at this,’ she agreed with obvious delight. ‘What about her?’
I glanced over at the woman she was pointing to. She was short, with strong features and a simple black patch over one eye, which gave her a sharp kind of edge.
‘Um. Pirate?’ I said hopefully.
‘Now you’re not even trying.’
‘Dog-training school?’
‘Dear lord, stop. Her name is Miranda Etherington, and she runs a “consultancy firm”.’ Summer crooked her fingers in air quotes. ‘Which is really just code for saying that she reads people’s futures for them. One of her company’s clients is a guy who works high up in the government.’
I stared at the woman. ‘No way. Does she do it with, like, a crystal ball or something?’
‘God, no, she thinks that stuff is trashy. She says she sees their futures in her dreams.’ Summer’s face changed. ‘Oh, no. My slobbery uncle Renard is coming this way. Help me. Hide me.’
‘Hi,’ said someone in my ear.
I turned and found myself inches from Fenrin’s mouth. I’d moved too quickly, and he was still drawing back from me.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Happy birthday.’
‘Thank you.’
Beside me, Summer was kissing a rotund man on each cheek as he exclaimed at her fondly. She’d give me hell later for not rescuing her, but Fenrin was there, so close I could smell him, and right now it was hard to think.
His eyes fixed on my hair. My makeup.
‘What happened here?’ he said.
‘Summer wanted to play around. I don’t know.’
He seemed surprised. ‘And you let her?’
I half shrugged, feeling weird, and then annoyed that I felt weird. He thought I looked bad. He liked natural girls, didn’t he – those surfer types with their perfect skin.
‘No offence,’ he said. ‘But it’s just not … you.’
‘Have you noticed how when people say “no offence”, you know you’re immediately going to be offended?’
‘It’s just … as if you’re her doll. You know? Like she’s tried to make you look like her.’
Like I’m trying to be one of you.
I hated myself for being so painfully obvious. I wanted to rub the eye shadow off. I looked across the room. First chance I got, I’d go to the bathroom, take my makeup off, and try and make it look like I hadn’t. I didn’t want to upset Summer by spoiling her creation.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and I was startled back to him. ‘That was mean. Just don’t let them … consume you.’ I was still looking at him. He laughed. ‘I’m not making much sense. I’m in a weird mood. Ignore me.’
‘What’s wrong?’ I said.
‘Oh, nothing. I have nothing to complain about.’ He smiled. ‘I really don’t.’
Maybe this would be another film night. I shouldn’t push. I waited, letting him find his way to me. This was what made me different in his eyes. He could tell me the truth. He didn’t have to pretend. Wasn’t that what had made him like me in the first place?
He wasn’t looking at me. His eyes roved over the room, and he stared, but I couldn’t make out who had his attention. I followed his gaze and saw a couple talking to Esther. The woman had thin features and dyed white-blonde hair that made a sharp contrast against her pale olive skin. The man was tall and imposing, with a salt-and-pepper beard.
‘Are those Wolf’s parents?’ I said.
His eyes immediately dropped away from them.
‘Where?’ His voice was casual.
‘Talking to your mum.’
‘Oh yeah. The Grigorovs.’ He rolled the ‘r’ dramatically.
‘What are they like?’
‘Solemn. Reserved.’
‘Like father, like son, I guess.’
Fenrin shrugged and didn’t smile. ‘They’re okay. I’ve known them since I was born.’
The joke felt stupid now, like I was bitching. I tried to make up for it. ‘You all grew up together, right? How come?’
Fenrin swirled his drink, looking into its depths. ‘Our parents have been best friends since they were teenagers. They’re more like extended family than anything else. Since they moved to the city, Wolf is over here all the damn time. It’s only about an hour’s drive, I suppose. But still, you’d think he’d have his own friends.’
‘Doesn’t he?’
‘Oh, well. He talks about a couple of people every so often that he seems to hang out with, doing city things like going to art galleries and concept nightclubs.’ His voice turned a little savage. ‘One guy in particular called David who sounds like an asshole. But then, Wolf has always had a penchant for those.’ Fenrin grinned into his drink.
I wondered what that meant. Was Wolf the type to hang around with the kind of people who gave parents heart attacks? Maybe he’d been in trouble a lot when he was younger. He seemed sweet to me, underneath his careful blank exterior, but he could be sweet and he could be trouble. People were complicated.
‘What was he like as a kid?’
His face shifted. ‘Horrible little shit.’
We both laughed.
‘He used to have tantrums about the stupidest things. And he swore in Bulgarian because he knew he could get away with it. We had no idea what he was saying, but you didn’t have to. It was all there in his scrunched-up, cross little face.’
‘And now?’
Fenrin shrugged. ‘Oh, now he’s all silent, like he thinks he’s better than the rest of us. No idea where he is right now, actually – probably lurking upstairs like an antisocial mute.’
Thalia appeared at her brother’s side and whispered in his ear.
He turned to me with a smile. ‘Gotta go. I’m being summoned.’
‘Oh?’ I said lightly. ‘Sounds serious. By who?’
He waved a hand. ‘The party gods. See you later.’
He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and left, weaving his way to the hall.
I stood there and tried to understand all the signals he’d given. He’d come and found me to talk. He’d insulted my hair, but then apologised for it. He’d then left without even a pause, like I meant nothing, but he’d touched my hair and my ear like I meant something. People didn’t make affectionate gestures like that to people they didn’t like. I knew that. I had to hold on to that.
Was it progress? If it was, it was just too damn slow.
You should kiss him.
What if he laughed at me? Or pull
ed back? Or turned away so that I missed his mouth and kissed his cheek instead, like an awkward five-year-old?
What if it all went wrong and he told the rest of them?
‘Drink?’ said Thalia, breaking into my thoughts. She gestured dreamily at my empty glass.
‘Yeah.’ I raised my voice over the music. ‘Is there any of that cocktail left?’
She made a grab for my glass but missed, and her fingers brushed my hand.
She smirked and said, ‘Ooooops.’
No more for you, though, I thought.
I hoped her parents hadn’t caught sight of her like this. Or maybe they were bohemian enough not to mind, but from what I’d seen of the care they took over appearances, I somehow doubted it. Either way, she was practically rolling on her feet. Why hadn’t Fenrin noticed and said something before running off to wherever?
‘Hey,’ I said. ‘I’ll get it.’
‘No, no, no. Mmm hosting.’
‘It’s your birthday,’ I tried. ‘I should serve you, not the other way round.’
She stood, uncertain and glazed.
‘Stay here,’ I said. ‘I’ll get us both a drink. Okay?’
I scanned the bodies in the room for Summer, but she wasn’t there. Then Thalia started off to the kitchen.
I grabbed her arm. ‘Hey, where are you going?’
I couldn’t even pick out words among the slurring sounds that came back. I couldn’t leave her like this.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Come with me.’
I tugged gently on her arm. I could practically see her thoughts running to catch up while her body responded automatically. We weaved through the crowd and she dragged on my arm like a reluctant child. Steering was too superhuman a feat for me – she bumped into about five people, and I went faster and faster, trying to get us out as quickly as I could. Fresh air would help.
We cleared the hallway and I managed to push through to the back door. It had stopped raining, and the air had a sweet, sharp tinge to it. The garden lights were on, giving a soft glow to the night. There were a few people outside, smoking and talking.
The grove, I thought. It’ll be quieter.
‘Stars!’ called Thalia too loudly, as I dragged her along, her hand in mine. I saw heads swivel to watch us as we passed. ‘So gorgeous. Don’t you think?’
‘Stunning,’ I muttered. Even under stress, I had time to appreciate the feel of her hand, so thin and fine-boned, so rare and alien a touch to my fingers. I felt like I could snap her beautiful wrist with one squeeze.
We stumble-walked our way through the garden, down the stone path that led to the pond and the apple tree at the start of the grove, its huge craggy branches black against the sky. The sounds of the party grew quieter, and I started to breathe more easily. Thalia was tugging back on my hand, her movements more and more urgent. I stopped, thinking she probably wanted to throw up.
But then I saw a shadow moving just before the apple tree.
‘Thalia,’ it said.
Thalia turned away, hanging off my hand. ‘Oh god.’
‘Thalia,’ it said again, and stepped into the faint light from the house.
It was Marcus.
CHAPTER 20
He stepped forward.
‘You should not be here,’ I warned him. ‘Marcus, they’re going to freak out if they catch you here.’
‘I just wanted to see you,’ he said, his eyes on Thalia. ‘I thought … it’s the party tonight, there’ll be a hundred people around, you could slip away for a minute.’
His tone was pushy and oddly uneven, as if he’d forgotten how to speak and was trying to remember each step of the process. He looked dishevelled, like he hadn’t slept properly in days.
Thalia’s eyes were shut, as if she could make it all go away as long as she couldn’t see it.
‘Please don’t,’ she whimpered. ‘Please. I said I was sorry. It’s over. I told you. We’re done, we’re done.’
Marcus held up a hand.
‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Because every time you open your mouth, what you say is so very much the opposite of what you really think that it kills me. What you’re doing is killing me.’ Frustration leaked out of him. His voice rose. ‘I just … want to talk to you. That’s all it’s ever been about these last few months. But you just shut me down. Do you know what that feels like?’
He was trembling. I could see his shoulders shake.
‘I’ve known you all your life,’ Marcus said. ‘Don’t you think I can tell when you’re lying?’
Thalia’s mouth was open and her eyes were wet. ‘Marcus.’
Incredibly, he laughed. ‘No, look, it’s okay. It’s okay. See, I’ve got it all worked out – a way to solve this.’
He held up the hand that had been dangling loosely by his side.
In it was a knife.
The silence was absolute.
Oh no, Marcus, I thought. Oh no, no.
‘That’s my …’ Thalia said, faintly. ‘That’s my athame.’
It wasn’t some kitchen knife, but a pretty, polished blade. I saw a pearlescent glimmer between his fingers, and I remembered where I’d seen it before – pushed into a jar of salt in Thalia’s bedroom.
Thalia took a step back. ‘You’ve been in my room. When?’
‘I just slipped upstairs. No one was even … it was just for a minute. It doesn’t matter. Listen to me.’ His voice was fast and urgent. ‘It’s got to be a blood pact, Thalia. Remember how we used to talk about it, but we never actually did it? If we’re bound together by blood, then nothing can keep us apart. Not your parents, not the curse. Everything falls away before a blood pact. It’s the strongest magic there is.’
Thalia’s eyes were locked on the athame. ‘No, it’s too dangerous. It’s really, really dangerous.’
‘Not if you do it properly,’ he insisted. ‘You just need to judge the amount of blood loss right.’
I tried to swallow my panic. ‘Marcus,’ I said. ‘Look at me. You’re under the curse.’
He frowned, distracted. ‘What?’
‘This is not you. This is the Grace curse.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. God, you’re just like the rest of them.’
‘Look at yourself. You’re acting …’ I bit off the word crazy. ‘Irrational. You look weird right now. Like you can’t even see straight.’
‘I’m drunk,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘That’s why.’
‘Then just think for a second about what you’re doing.’
The alarm in my voice made him frown again. ‘It’s a blood pact, not a human sacrifice. Thalia? What do you say?’ He stepped forward.
‘Stop,’ said Thalia faintly. ‘Marcus, please don’t. I don’t want you to get into trouble. It’s true, okay? It’s all because of the curse, what you’re feeling. It’s not real.’
He stared at her, his head weaving a slow no, over and over. ‘Don’t you get it?’ he said finally, his voice reasonable. ‘There’s no curse. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Forever. I’ve felt like this forever.’
He stepped forward again. ‘All your life you’ve let your family decide your fate,’ he said. ‘What do you want?’
My arm came out to push Thalia behind me. He was inches away.
He held out the knife towards her, point first.
He was ruining everything. Esther would know. It would all go wrong for them. I didn’t want it to go wrong. This was supposed to be a perfect summer. We were supposed to have fixed this. Instead, here was the curse in full force, showing me up, mocking me and my pathetic attempts to stamp it out. How would I ever become a proper witch if I couldn’t even fix this?
I remembered what they’d said about that day he’d been caught in her room, forcing her down, and I felt a roaring anger claw its way up and out of me.
‘Just stop,’ I said, furiously. ‘She doesn’t love you back. You’re being a creep. Can’t you see that? You’re scaring her!’
‘
Get out of the way,’ he said, but then I saw his gaze falter. There was a sudden cracking, popping sound behind us, like jars smashing to the ground, over and over.
I watched his eyes widen as he looked past me, and I turned without thinking.
Together we stared at the mess in the light of the garden path lamps. Normally, the path was lined with delicate little clay pots of sage and asters, but now several of them lay scattered and broken on the tiles, as if their sides had burst.
A rustling pulled me back to Marcus. I turned, suddenly terrified that he was lunging towards us, but then I saw the glint of the athame nestled in the grass where he’d dropped it. His dark shape hugged the edge of the garden, and I heard the side gate bang shut. He had gone.
Only then did I let go of my fear, feeling it drain away and my shoulders come down. I caught Thalia’s eye.
‘That’s … weird,’ I said cautiously, my eyes on the pots. ‘Did you do that?’
‘I was nowhere near them,’ Thalia managed. ‘It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me. Oh, shit. Esther’s going to have a meltdown.’
‘Maybe something knocked them over. Do you have a cat?’ It seemed impossible that a cat could have done all that, but there was no explanation I could think of that fitted.
She shook her head.
‘A fox, maybe?’
Thalia glanced at me in sudden horror, as if I’d inadvertently hit close to home.
‘What?’ I said, curious.
She ducked her head down. ‘I think I’m going to throw up.’
‘Oh god. Look, he’s gone. Let’s get back to the house. At least to the toilet. Can you make it back inside?’
She gave me a half nod. Good enough.
Her hand stretched out and pointed to the athame. I bent down and grabbed hold of it. I didn’t know quite what I expected. Would it feel strange, heavy, unnaturally hot or cold? But all I could feel was a knife, the handle gently warm from Marcus’s hand.
I slipped my arm around Thalia’s waist. She palmed the athame from me and slid it handle first into her armpit, gripping it to her side with her arm to conceal it. We walked slowly back to the house.