by Amber Kizer
Tens stepped forward and gave Faye the ring. She held it in her fist.
“Faye, do you promise to love and hold precious this man, allowing him to comfort and aid you, in this life and the next, until you meet again?”
Her voice, stronger than it had been in several days, shouted, “I do!” She was able to place the ring on Gus’s finger without assistance. Happy tears tickled my lashes.
“By all that is good and light, and all that is love, I pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss your bride.” Tony smiled.
Gus bent down and placed the most tender kiss I’d ever witnessed on Faye’s lips.
I turned my head and surreptitiously wiped tears away as the nurses and other families from the rooms around us clapped and congratulated the newlyweds.
Faye had a single bite of red velvet cake and declared it perfect before dozing off with a smile on her face.
Gus hugged me tightly and for far longer than I was used to. As quickly as we’d descended, we left. The flowers and plants would stay on Faye’s terrace for the duration.
That night, back in the cottage, Tens and I lay on our sides facing each other. The light from the streetlights outside breathed shadows and strange angles across Tens’s face.
We so rarely had time these days to just be together and enjoy each other. I grinned, going over the wedding in my mind. Perfect.
“We pulled it off,” I said.
“Yes, you did. I only did what you told me to.” He evaded credit as expected.
“You’ll have to plant all the stuff now.” We’d offered to plant all the flowering plants among the gardens and terraces at the hospice. It seemed only fair. As we left, I realized Juliet had made several larger versions of the cake for the nurses and the family goody room. I don’t know why I’m surprised by the way she whips out complete confections in the amount of time most people read a recipe.
He shrugged. “Did it make you …” He trailed off, breaking eye contact. His fingers slid down my arm, from shoulder to fingers, making the little hairs zing and sending a delicious quake along my spine.
“What? Want a wedding?” I asked, thinking perhaps that’s where he was going.
He nodded.
“Someday.” I wondered how to articulate my feelings. A future? I never thought I’d have a future. “I’ve never been able to picture myself in a white dress, my father walking me down the aisle. Who would be my bridesmaids? Who would I invite?” I’ve never had that kind of family, or friends, for that matter. Never been the little girl who played pretend wedding. There hadn’t seemed any point to dreaming.
“Me.” He kissed my hand.
“Oh, well, I thought you’d be the groom, but if you really want to wear a puke-green satin ball gown covered in ruffles as my maid of honor, we can talk about that.”
We both laughed. What a picture.
I frowned. “It never seemed like my life. Like it was possible. Until you, I didn’t know anyone could love me.” Maybe if my mother had allowed Auntie to raise me as requested, I wouldn’t be so surprised all the time.
“But now that you have me?” There was a hitch in his voice that I wasn’t certain about.
I shrugged. “I don’t need the dress, or the cake, or the bouquet toss to make that real. You don’t want one, do you?”
Does he? His expression grew thoughtful. “I think I do. We’re special and I think I’d like to celebrate that with our friends watching. Not soon. Someday.”
Oh. “I’m not against it. I never dreamed about it. You’ll tell me? When you’re ready?”
“Tell you what?”
“When you feel like it’s time for you? For us?”
“Probably before our seventh kid is born.”
“Seven? Kids? Now you’re freaking me out!” I yanked the pillow out from behind his head.
“Hey, I was using that!” He grabbed me as I reached for his ribs. “No fair. I’m tired!”
He pinned my hips with his and slid down me. I wondered if I’d ever grow tired of feeling his weight pressed against me. Of looking up into his eyes and seeing the best parts of myself reflected down at me.
He dipped his head and nibbled the edge of my mouth. “Hmm, frosting.”
“No! I … I washed my face,” I sputtered, until I realized he was laughing at me. “I guess you don’t want the extra piece I grabbed for you, then, huh?”
“Cake?” Tens perked up.
Always hungry. “I’m not telling.”
“Here?” He licked and kissed behind my ear until I shivered. “How about here?” His lips drew down along my throat and found the rapid pulse.
I shifted my hips and felt him slip snugly against me.
His hands spread under my shirt and cupped my breasts, the calluses on his palms creating a pleasant friction.
I tugged my T-shirt over my head. His shorts rode low on his hips and his stomach rippled under my fingers.
“Here?” Tens dipped his head deeper, touching his mouth to my nipple. I arched against him as all thoughts fled my brain.
At my most vulnerable with him, I was home.
CHAPTER 25
Juliet
I pleaded a headache and disappeared into my bedroom as quickly as I could after the wedding. Faye and Gus might be married for a week at best. Until death do them part. So little time. I shuddered. Did my parents have any time together? Any? Would they have gotten married? Made us a family?
I heard Tony and Fara whispering in the living room, probably about me. I held the book of sonnets, practicing my reading. My mother’s scribbled notes in the margins were cryptic at best as I looked for anything that might be what Ms. Asura wanted. As if she’d been afraid someone else might read them, as if she were protecting more than me. My father? Her parents?
Back and forth, back and forth, I slid the medallion Nicole gave me across the chain on my neck. Nicole is gone. And I need to let her go.
My head hurt.
I waited. Even now, I waited for the feelings of uncertainty and fear to dissipate.
“Can I come in?” Fara knocked. “Please?”
“Sure.” I sat up and wiped at my face.
“Tony went out to get you frozen custard. He heard today’s flavor was grape.”
I tried to smile. He tried so hard and I didn’t know why he continued to bother. All I do is make messes and problems for him.
Fara stared at me without breaking eye contact. “Want some air? It’s awfully stuffy in here.” She abruptly turned to the window, and before I could ask her not to, she opened the curtains and threw the window open wide.
I gasped, terrified my room would smell like Ms. Asura again. No, just food. Cooking rice, garlic, and fried chicken were the only recognizable scents on the breeze. I sighed.
Fara sat at the edge of my bed. “My baba called them Hashshashin, these Nocti of yours. For thousands of years they are the dark Hashshashin. I find out from Tony that the word for this in English is assassin.”
I picked at my fingers. Watched blood ooze between my nail and skin.
“They do not just kill bodies; they kill love, dreams too. Do you know what my baba said to me about them?”
“What?” My mind turned over and over again the conversation about Ms. Asura at DG.
“He said it is easy to give up the body, for it is fragile and from the earth. But that I must never let the Hashshashin speak to my heart. I must give my blood to save my light. They promise miracles and prey on ignorance. I have seen much ignorance in this country of yours. Much fear of difference, no tolerance.”
“Turn on the television and it’s the same everywhere.” I brushed off her stinging criticism. We aren’t different from anyone else.
“Maybe, but it doesn’t have to be. What do you say, sink or fly?” She reached out and touched my cheek until I raised my eyes.
“Sink or swim?” I asked.
She shrugged. “You can fly, be above, not sink below.”
I blinked at her, waiting
for the next fault she might find. What else am I doing wrong?
With narrowed flashing eyes, she asked, “What do you think of this wedding? Was it the perfect American wedding?”
I couldn’t help snorting back laughter, which made her smile.
“I guess the dying is not so perfect?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen one.” Will I wear white? Find a man to cherish me and treat me as the precious person brides always embody? If I can’t love myself, how can someone else love me?
“A wedding?”
“No. Never been to a wedding.” People died, left, and disappeared in my world; they didn’t commit to love, honor, and cherish.
“Oh.” She nodded. “Tens and Meridian seemed to think it was good.”
I shook my head. “They are in love. Even crap smells sweet to them.” I blanched, not sure where the venom came from.
“Ah, you’re jealous of them?”
I stayed silent.
“Me too.” She poked at my leg.
I wondered aloud, “Tens is Meridian’s Protector and her soul mate.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you my soul mate too?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Her expression closed.
“How do we know?” I pressed, pushing at her buttons, hoping for a reaction.
“What are you asking me?” Her brow furrowed.
“Are we going to fall in love like them?” Am I destined to fall in love with a woman?
“Ah, you Americans always focus on the sex, don’t you?”
A scalding blush flowed over my cheeks but I held my ground. “Oh, please. You only bring up the American thing when you need to buy time to formulate an answer.”
“Noticed that, did you?” She smiled. “There is more than one kind of soul mate, Juliet.” We heard the front door. “Tony is back. Do you want to eat anything?”
I shook my head. “I think I’ll practice my reading.” Formulate a plan to confront Ms. Asura and find my mother.
“Do you want help from Tony?”
I frowned. “Not tonight.”
“What are you thinking about so frowny?” She paused. “The book?”
“Nothing.” I didn’t want to share yet.
“You will tell me before you run away toward what it is in your heart? You will let me run beside you.”
“Are you asking or telling?” I bit out the words. I didn’t need a babysitter.
“Yes.” She stepped away. “You are not alone.”
“Sure.” I already regretted putting everyone in more danger by being honest.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“Not right now.” I couldn’t tell if I hurt her feelings or not.
She nodded and stopped at the door. “We are on your side. Give what little trust you can, please? It becomes easier with practice.”
I lay flipping through pages, trying to read between the lines of my mother’s lines and squiggles. The only words I had to tell me what I longed to know. What is my story? I whispered her words out loud:
“ ‘Did he make it out? Did they help him go on as we’d planned? Does he see this moon tonight?’
“ ‘My daughter will be strong and grow up laughing. She will eat ice cream for dinner and take naps for no reason. She will not work until her fingers bleed. She will know her worth.’ ”
I shivered and rose to close the window. A new statue installed in front of the new construction site across the street sat across from my window, gazing up at a yellow balloon trying to float into the sky. The fake man stared vacantly, directly at my room, at me. He’s only a statue.
I quickly pulled the window handles, trying to shield myself. They stuck. The window wouldn’t shut. I opened it again and leaned down to see a piece of paper, of cardboard, wedged into the frame. What is this?
I lifted it out and realized it was a postcard. A sunset at a beach. Just like Kirian and I talked about so many years ago. We’d live on the beach and eat coconuts and crabs. Oh, Kirian! Why did you betray me? How did this get here?
Written in red ink like blood were the words:
You’re losing lives like your cat. You will suffer foolishly.
I dropped the postcard, my heart skipping and stuttering, the air impossible to inhale. I watched it blow in the breeze toward the ground. I slammed the window shut, sliding to the floor. Is she out there? Is she watching?
I gagged back bile. Ms. Asura has been here. While I’d been making cakes and serving them. While I’d wondered if my life might ever contain the love that I saw reflecting in the eyes of Meridian and Tens, Gus and Faye, Nelli and Bales. She was here. Spreading poison and reminding me there was no escape.
I crawled along the floor until I could nudge open my closet door. I felt for the telltale bulge of Rumi’s folio. My fingers ran along the back seam of the carpet until I could lift it. I tugged.
“No, no, no, no.” I lifted more of the rug. Maybe it shifted. Maybe it moved over.
I flicked on the light switch. Nothing. Bare plywood. No leather. No folio. Nothing. Rumi’s book is gone.
This is all my fault. I did this. I should have given it back yesterday instead of making the cakes. I should have, I should have, I should have—I opened my mouth to call for Fara, but nothing came out. What can she do? We’re doomed. We’re going to die and it’s my fault.
Shutting the door behind me, I curled into a ball on the floor of my closet, wishing for Mini, who’d planted herself at Faye’s side after the wedding. I tucked my head deeply against my knees. Why now? This is too much. They won’t forgive this.
I felt snot ooze down my cheek, my eyes scratchy from so many tears. At some point, I dozed off and dreamed of freight-train tornadoes ripping my family away. Of DG. Of children crying. Of Kirian reaching for me. Of my future spreading out in front of me as nothing but a void.
CHAPTER 26
“Supergirl?” Tens turned around, hopping backward, making it clear he was waiting for my slow ass.
Tens decided we needed to run a few miles to expend all the adrenaline of the last week and clear our minds. I was pretty sure I could clear my mind during a massage and manicure, but he thought this was good for me.
I grunted. I saw the cottage and sped up. Grape soda and a flat surface. Hallelujah.
A Timothy had left the day’s newspaper on our door with a note on their signature stationery.
Related?
The headline read LAST YEAR’S WINNER AND CURRENT FAVORITE COLLAPSES WITH MYSTERIOUS ILLNESS. The accompanying note said, “The article was vague. Nocti?”
Tens booted up the laptop and I turned on the television. Tens’s fingers flew over the keys. “Merry, listen. ‘The team’s owner reported that Roberto Tonsa started experiencing severe symptoms earlier in the day yesterday. He remains hospitalized under round-the-clock care. The backup driver was flown in from Charlotte last night as a precaution, but they were hoping Tonsa would be better today with the IV medications. They are unable to identify the toxin in his system. The backup driver, Eddie Smith, will try to qualify the car.’ ”
Could the Nocti poison someone? Sure. What did they have to gain by poisoning one driver, though? That didn’t make sense.
Tens continued. “ ‘If Tonsa is not cleared to race Sunday, Eddie Smith, who did practice here earlier in the month, will take over the car.’ ” He frowned. “They say it’s a risky choice since he hasn’t been up to speeds or practiced in current race conditions. But they have every confidence the veteran driver, but Indy 500 rookie, will race well. Smith has been off the circuit for several years amid rumors of addiction and gambling debts. When asked about this opportunity, Smith said he owed his family everything for sticking by him. Racing Sunday would pay them back for all the pain he’d caused.”
I battled to see into the future. Just a glimpse. Anything.
“You’re making me dizzy,” Tens grouched.
“Are you picking up on it?” I asked, excited. Mayb
e we’d broken through the silence and could communicate telepathically. Finally.
“You’re mumbling and pacing,” he said without looking up.
“Oh.” That’s disappointing.
“You think this is Nocti?”
“I don’t know. I don’t get what they’d gain.”
“Giving one driver a chance at redemption? That’s not like them.”
“Eyes open, right?”
Tens’s phone rang and I picked it up.
“Can you come by the shop, please?” Rumi’s agitated voice galloped over the phone line.
“Now?” I asked, watching Tens leap into action at the tone in my voice. “Rumi,” I mouthed at Tens’s silent question.
“Yes, Timothy is here with news.”
What are the Woodsmen doing there? “We’re on our way,” I said, hanging up. “Is it a trap to meet W.O.W. at Rumi’s?”
“I hope to hell not.” The quickest way over was by car, but the care Tens took loading up weaponry slowed us way down.
The few Spirit Stones Rumi had rehung went from normal to bright as we approached. No Nocti.
Rumi’s store was full of shoppers. All male. All trying to look inconspicuous. Because I was pretty sure they were all Woodsmen, I bet they’d all turn if I yelled, “Timothy!” I was half tempted to try it just to see how they’d respond.
“Thank you for coming.” The elder had pulled his wheelchair next to Rumi’s seating area.
“What’s going on?” Tens asked, standing at attention.
“We need your help,” Timothy replied.
Rumi returned with grape soda and Coke for us. “I think you’ll need this,” he said, his expression grim.
I fingered the notebook in my pocket and dragged it out to take notes.
“One of our brothers was found dead this morning.”
“I’m sorry.” I blanched.
He nodded. “We know the risks.”
“You think he was killed?” Tens asked, already skipping forward.
“Yes, deliberately. We think he saw something.”
“Something?” I let the word hang there. I wondered why Timothy seemed to think Fenestras were also mind readers. With no idea where he was taking the conversation or what he expected from me, I waited.