Spider's Kiss

Home > Other > Spider's Kiss > Page 5
Spider's Kiss Page 5

by Jesse Sprague


  A little girl with thick, black braids and brown skin pelted down the path toward him.

  “Hey, mister!” she called, grinning at him and planting her feet—in boots much too large for her—on the path.

  “Your mom around?”

  “Nah. She left. Dad’s at the house, though. Who’re you?”

  “Berrick.” His title was more likely to hurt him than help him out here.

  “I’m Risa.” She pointed to her chest with her thumb.

  “I’d like to speak with your father, Risa. I’m in need of some help, a telephone at least.”

  “We ain’t got one.” Risa motioned for him to follow and started to walk back toward the farmhouse. “Papa says phones are as bad as any of that other off-world tech.”

  Extremists. Didn’t surprise him, but it was inconvenient. They were all over the country.

  “Does he feel that way about cars?” Berrick asked. She seemed willing enough to talk. Might as well find out what he was up against.

  “Nah. He likes engines. Why?”

  “My car broke down.”

  “Oh. Daddy’ll help. Don’t matter none. Daddy’ll give you a tow into town. Always does.”

  Berrick forced a smile but inside he cursed himself a thousand times over. That sort of help would take far too long.

  Chapter 5

  The Party

  The lights of the house beckoned from a great distance, lining the drive like fairy lights. Marim looked at Darith through the silk lashes glued atop hers. If they were fairy lights, he was the untouchable fairy prince. His ice-blue eyes were fastened on the road, nose slightly curled.

  Look at me. I can make you happy—I swear it. Just look at me.

  Darith’s eyes flicked over to her. For a brief moment, a smile twitched on his mouth. Marim glowed inside her skin. Even when his glower returned, warmth suffused her. She leaned across the seat and brushed her lips across his cheek.

  “Thank you for coming. I didn’t want your mother to escort me.”

  “Were those your only options? You’re old enough for suitors,” he said. His sneer looked charming on him.

  I know you, Darith Cortanis. Glare all you like. You’re the only suitor I want.

  “Yes. Old enough, perhaps, but I’ve no need to sample the nobility’s eligible men,” Marim said as the car pulled broadside in front of the wide double doors into the mansion.

  The driver emerged and opened their door. The dark outside seethed, and an all-too-familiar clutching contracted in her chest.

  Anything could be out there in the dark. Waiting for me. The police car trailing them did nothing to assuage her fears. Why did her father have men following her everywhere? The officers hopped out of the car in the drive, and then one leaned against the hood as the other crossed to the gardens.

  Darith took Marim’s hand and helped her out of the Town Car. She could walk safely through any night if he guided her. Her fingers tingled at his touch, and she left her hand in his before she stepped down. Her green-and-gold dress fluttered around her legs, clinging briefly to her thighs. Maybe even Darith would see her as more than a child tonight.

  He met her hazel eyes.

  She hoped he noted what a dashing couple they could make, the red-haired girl and the black-haired boy. Both slender and graceful, he made of the colors of the night and she of sunshine bound in flesh.

  If he observed anything of the sort, he gave no indication. He took her arm and led her inside; she clung a little closer than necessary, relishing the heat of his body. This warmth slipped through her skin to cradle around her heart and flutter like a sigh in her mind.

  Inside, a servant took their coats, and another led them through a tiled hallway into a ballroom. Marim took in a breath at the splendor of the room. Girls in ballgowns spun on the floor. Men both young and old escorted them. Crystals drooped from the chandeliers and their phantasmal reflections sashayed over the room. There were punch fountains and layered cakes. From the corner of her eye, Marim saw Darith’s thinly veiled boredom. The curl of his nostril.

  He ushered Marim in through the velvet-draped doorway into the maze of perfumes and colors. She looked up at him and smiled.

  “Will you dance with me please, Darith?” she asked. If she could get him away before the other girls crowded in, perhaps tonight would be the night he remembered she was there, the night he realized she wasn’t a child who needed protecting. Tonight, the rogue was hers.

  Darith nodded to her and led her onto the dance floor. Marim closed her eyes as the dance started. She tried to trap the sounds and the smells inside her head. She wanted to keep the throb of music safe inside. When her eyes opened, Darith was looking down at her. He was more than a head taller than she was, so she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. Her feet knew the steps, even if she had forgotten them. The weight of his fingers and the warmth of his body intruded to her core. He was so close to her.

  Darith smiled, his eyes crinkling as the grin spread over his face.

  The song ended, shattering the smile. Darith broke away from her. He bowed to her slightly and kissed her hand, his breath tickling her knuckles.

  “You’re not a child, Marim,” he said, a slight smile touching his lips. “When did that happen?”

  She blushed at his kiss and looked away. “Under the sun for all to see.”

  “My father wants us to marry.” He didn’t sound utterly repulsed by the thought, and Marim dared to take his hand in hers.

  “A new song is starting,” Marim said, not daring to push the marriage discussion further.

  “May I cut in?” The male voice was full of humor.

  Marim and Darith turned and looked. Encased in charcoal silks, the couple that greeted them had a sobering beauty that Marim couldn’t avert her eyes from. The woman had upswept hair in a deep red-black color and eyes just as dark, but her skin was whiter than lace. The man had the same red-black hair, but his skin was as black as a moonless night.

  “Of course, you may,” Marim said automatically. Her eyes were wide and startled.

  She glanced to Darith, her protector. His face was stern, but he nodded her on.

  “May I ask your name?” Marim asked.

  “My name’s Halis, ma’am.” The man bowed to her and took her hand.

  “I’m Marim Trehar.”

  Halis smiled—his teeth too plentiful and sharp. Marim glanced for the officers, but it was an idle fancy. They never would have been allowed in the party, would still be lurking outside, looking for suspicious characters.

  For a moment, Marim’s instinct was to run from this handsome predatory smile, but what was the point? Running didn’t save anyone—it hadn’t saved Marim’s family. Neither had the elusive protection offered by her father.

  No one could protect her from the monsters. And now Marim had nightmares every night but had learned to wake silently. Except when she could hear Darith’s breathing outside her guestroom door at the Cortanis estate. She’d never asked why he spent certain nights settled against her door. The why of it didn’t matter. It only mattered that those nights she slept a dreamless sleep.

  Marim glanced back over her shoulder to see Darith dancing with the lady in the black gown. He was already enchanted and Marim wouldn’t let him face a creature of the night alone.

  Halis swung her into the dance, and she tripped at the suddenness of the movement, leaning heavily on his arm in order not to fall. When she glanced up, she decided he wasn’t any sort of monster, not with that smile beaming at her clumsiness. He moved stiffly but well, and his eyes never left her, nor did his smile falter on his face.

  “You dance beautifully, Marim.” Despite the slight shuffle in his gait, Halis moved her across the floor seamlessly.

  Older than me, but not too old. Perhaps there are merits to sampling men other than my white knight. Her thoughts seemed to float on a cloud and doubt was too heavy to remain in the fluffy cumulous filling her mind. After a while, she forgot all about Darith. Halis
danced like the steps flowed in a current from mind to feet, and he carried her with him across the tide. The steps she’d so carefully memorized drifted away forgotten, and she found new ones. They found a dance that was theirs alone. She spun and dipped and stepped and then did it all over again.

  His hands were hard and hot. He didn’t hold her at all as a gentleman should. Though he didn’t touch her in the wrong places, the way his hands rested departed from decorum. It wasn’t a difference she could have named, but she knew it instinctively. He pressed into her flesh just a little too hard. He was careless and wild with her as he pulled her in and out of turns.

  He does not see me as a child lost in mourning.

  Then they stopped. A moment passed before she realized the song was over. The two of them stood staring at each other. Marim’s breath came in bursts. For the first time, Halis broke eye contact.

  “Shall I get you a drink, Marim?” he asked. He said her name like he was tasting the syllables but wasn’t sure if he found the experience pleasurable or not. He sampled, and he considered.

  “Yes, please,” she said.

  Halis led her across the room and got two cups of punch. He handed Marim a glass, and she sipped the syrupy, red liquid. The dancing went on behind him in a whirl. Marim glanced around for Darith but didn’t see him.

  “A breath of fresh air? You are flushed,” Halis said.

  Her stomach knotted up, and her hands grew cold. The last thing she wanted was to step onto the balcony. She reached a hand up to cover her neck, where her jugular vein pulsed. Then the feeling was gone, and she touched a finger to the sweat on her forehead. “Yes, a stroll amid starlight would be pleasant.”

  He guided her across the floor onto the patio. There were plenty of couples standing out there. Among them stood Darith and the woman Halis had come in with, but there was no sign of the officers. Marim headed automatically to Darith and the strange woman. Halis did not try to escort her anywhere else.

  The woman in the black dress turned as they approached. Her lips were red as fire, but she did not smile. She curtsied slightly toward Marim, then leveled her gaze on Halis.

  “Silvia, this is Marim Trehar. Marim, this is Silvia,” Halis said as he took Silvia’s hand and kissed it. Silvia smiled as she regarded Halis.

  They are married. Her heart sank. Dimly, a small voice said the stranger’s union was the best news possible. Darith will dance with me.

  “And this, dear brother,” said Silvia, “is Darith Cortanis. Darith, this is Halis.”

  Brother. They are siblings. Marim sighed. They did look alike, aside from their skin tone. And Marim tried not to focus on the inflection in Silvia’s voice when she said brother, almost as if it were a joke.

  “Good to meet you, Halis,” Darith said.

  “You as well,” Halis said.

  “Darith and I were contemplating a stroll through the gardens,” Silvia said, raising one eyebrow in what seemed like a challenge.

  “Tonight is a very pleasant night,” Marim put in, trying her best not to seem like a sixteen-year-old girl. Halis’ hand rested on her waist, and her heart beat faster. His nearness slowed her thought and cast everything into a dizzying spin. Her body reacted so strongly to him, her mind raced to catch up, the two never meeting, leaving her dazed and out of control.

  “Why don’t the four of us take a stroll together?” Halis suggested.

  Darith’s hand lay over Silvia’s on the banister. Marim’s eyes caught there, and the spinning stilled. What did it feel like to have Darith’s touch?

  “Shall we?” Darith asked.

  Silvia laughed and took his arm. “Roses smell better at night.”

  Marim took Halis’ arm and gazed up at him. He cut such a fine figure. She was sure there was no man in the entire ball that rivaled him. His white teeth caught the moonlight. She wanted to find something to say but couldn’t think of a word that wouldn’t place her as exactly what she was: sixteen. He seemed content enough to stroll along with her silently.

  In front of them, Darith and Silvia conversed in low voices. They walked through rows of flowers heading away from the light of the party. Little stones crunched under their shoes, and occasionally, a torch flared on the side of the path.

  “Yahal roses have a fainter scent than any others on the seventeen core worlds. Did you know that?” Halis asked.

  “No,” said Marim, drifting easily with the harmless subject. “Why is that, do you think?”

  “The genetic modification to allow them to grow here affected their smell. Before humans messed with them, roses had a rich, potent smell. They grew wild once and their smell could help people identify them from a distance, but then humans changed them, and their smell grew weak. Though their blooms grew larger and of far more varied colors.”

  “That’s sad. I wonder why we’d change them.”

  “When the world was first founded, the ladies grew disappointed with the lack of smell and would pour perfume on them. It’s why literature from the early years here is littered with references to roses smelling like vanilla or cloves.”

  Marim bit her lip and glanced up at the moon. He was right that she could hardly smell the roses, but had it ever been different? What a strange conversation.

  Marim broke the silence. “I haven’t seen you or your sister before. Are you from around here?”

  “Not from around here, no.” His dark eyes met hers. “It is wonderful. I should spend more time here.”

  Marim blushed and dropped her gaze. The closer she stood to him, the more her mind reeled, as if she’d downed far too much wine. What would his dark hands feel like on her skin?

  “When did you arrive?” she asked. Questions kept her from blathering about herself.

  “Tonight. We came to town for this.” He motioned around. “It’s a one-of-a-kind party.”

  “They have it every year.” Marim bit her lip. What a stupid thing to say. She managed not to tell him that this was only the second year she had received an invitation.

  “Ah, but it is not the same every year. No two nights are alike.” He moved his hand to her waist again.

  Dizziness swept over her. His body was so close to hers. Coldness twitched in his black eyes, a creature from the deep uncurling.

  “I can’t recall having known a night like this one,” she said.

  “Neither can I.”

  The night made noises around them, and Silvia’s laugh traveled across the air. Silvia blended in with the evening and was lost in the landscape except for the white slivers of her arms. They had somehow gotten quite a distance ahead of Halis and Marim. Surely, they should have reached the end of the garden. Were the grounds really that extensive? Marim’s stomach tightened. Something wasn’t right. She glanced back for the house, and sure enough, the mansion shone like a beacon behind them.

  “Perhaps we should head back.” Her voice quavered.

  “I hate to relinquish you to the rest of those gentlemen, but if you desire to return, we shall.” The warmth in Halis’ voice comforted her. It did not reflect the monstrosity behind his eyes.

  “We’re just getting so far from the house,” Marim explained, but she no longer cared.

  “Would you feel safer if I called Darith and my sister to walk closer to us?”

  Marim tittered. Her laugh sounded young and light to her ears, lacking the depth of Silvia’s mirth. “No, no. I quite like walking back here with you. They aren’t so far away. I’m sure it isn’t improper for us to wander with all of us together.”

  Halis picked a flower and handed the tight rosebud to her. The colorful petals seemed black in the night. She touched the bud’s velvety surface. Her glass of punch was empty, and she set it carelessly on the path. Someone would find it in the morning.

  “You’re not engaged to Darith, are you, little one?” Halis’ voice was husky, and she leaned into him.

  “No. Our parents are friends, so he was asked to escort me.” Her mind grasped at fleeting thoughts, try
ing to connect with her emotions from earlier in the night. The fog of Halis’ nearness made it impossible to feel more than a flicker of concern.

  I should. I should be running away. Running to Darith. If only Halis would step back, I could clear my head.

  “I’m glad.” He chuckled. “I’m sure my sister is delighted as well.”

  “Halis is a name I’ve never heard. Is it foreign?”

  “My parents hail from one of the unclaimed worlds.”

  “What world?”

  “You’ve never heard of our birth planet. Silvia and I are a variety of orphan. You know, I know the name Trehar from somewhere.” He paused.

 

‹ Prev