Forever Midnight

by Kate Hill

  A fingernail broke through his skin. The sharp, momentary stab of pain barely registered. Looking into Piper’s face, he saw she was crying. He cradled her against his chest.

  “Mine,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she whispered back, and kissed him softly.

  Chapter Five

  They made arrangements to see Brice and Nadia that weekend. The Binghams owned a cabin in the Poconos, and Piper and Trey would meet them there some time Friday afternoon. It was a long drive, so they’d decided to take the day off. Piper had arranged to take a day off on Monday, as well.

  Trey had decided he wanted to drive. He didn’t get much opportunity—living in the city as they did, they both usually ended up walking or taking the subway. But Piper had had a car most of her adult life in spite of not really needing one, just because she liked the freedom it implied. She could take off any time she wanted, without having to rely on anyone else for transportation. Not that she did very often, but it was nice to know the option existed.

  It took him a few minutes to reacclimatize himself to the car, during which time he accidentally turned on the blinkers twice, the windshield wipers once, and flicked on the high beams trying to squirt wiper fluid onto the windshield.

  Piper couldn’t help laughing at him. “I guess you should drive more.”

  He took her ribbing in stride. “You’d probably have the same problem. Neither one of us drives on a regular basis, after all.”

  “This is true.” She settled back into the seat, watching the city slowly disappear as they headed for the untamed wilds of Pennsylvania. She chuckled a little at the thought.

  “What?” he asked.

  She shook her head, still amused. “Nothing. Have you been to the Poconos before?”

  “Yeah, but I went to one of the touristy places. Where they have the tubs shaped like champagne glasses.”

  Piper wrinkled her nose, then grinned. “Someday I want you to take me to one of those places. I always thought those tubs looked fun.”

  He shrugged. “They’re okay.” Casting her a sly look, he added, “It depends on who you’re with.”

  “Then they’d be fun with you.”

  She was feeling surprisingly maudlin and romantic, she thought, considering they were going to the secluded cabin in the Poconos so they could sleep with other people. But she found herself not thinking about that quite so much. She was thinking instead of a baby, cuddled against her breast, of the way Trey would look at it, the way they would all be together. A family.

  There was a big difference between a couple and a family, she thought, and thinking about that made her warm inside. They would be a family, the three of them, and maybe they could get a puppy.

  She laughed again. Trey smiled.

  “Okay, this time you have to tell me,” he said.

  “I was just thinking we should get a puppy.”

  “Why?”

  “So we could have a baby and a puppy.”

  He shook his head. “We can’t have a puppy in our apartment.”

  “Oh, fine. Be all logical and annoying. I don’t care.” She looked out the window, content. “A baby will be nice.”

  “Yes. I think it will be.”

  She sobered a little, thinking of Brice and Nadia. “How long have they been waiting?”

  “Several years. Mesharet kept delaying their petition. He wasn’t in favor of human/shapeshifter pairings.”

  “He was an odd duck, wasn’t he?”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Piper struggled for different words. Mesharet had nearly killed both of them, and her assessment had seemed to trivialize that. “I mean, because in one way he wanted to turn away from the old ways, but in other ways he seemed to cling to them.”

  “We’re all like that, in one way or another.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” She thought about class structure as it still existed even among humans, who weren’t a species fighting for their very existence, as the shapeshifters were. Even there, class and race played far too large a part in everyday existence, in how people judged each other. When there were so few remaining, perhaps things such as who married whom seemed that much more important.

  “It’s been a long time for them, then.” She was thinking aloud, more or less, and realized she wasn’t making a great deal of sense.

  Trey looked at her, a curious look on his face. “Yes. A long time.” He reached over, laying a hand on her knee. “They want this child a great deal. They’ll take good care of it.”

  “I had no question of that.” But she had, she realized suddenly. She had in a way been concerned that Brice might not see the child as his, that Trey’s child, given to the Binghams, might not receive the love it deserved. The kind of love she would have given it.

  She shook her head. He was still looking at her, concern on his face. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. It’s all just…very strange. But you knew that already.”

  He smiled. “I did.”

  She veered away from the topic after that, chatting instead about things that had happened at work, asking him about his latest clients. Everyday conversation. Normal things. Not, “What do you think it’ll be like to have a foursome in the Poconos?”

  It had been a good shift to make, she thought a few hours later, when Trey turned the car onto a narrow dirt road—more of a path, really—leading deeper into the forest.

  “It’s nice out this way,” Piper said. “Quiet. Woodsy.” She grinned at her own inability to express herself.

  Trey smiled. “Yeah. Woodsy. Deer, squirrels—back to nature kind of thing.”

  “Did Nadia say if the cabin has electricity?”

  “It does. And indoor plumbing. So we won’t be completely roughing it.”

  “That’s a relief. I don’t have the fortitude for that kind of thing.”

  “Sure you do. You have the fortitude for just about anything.”

  His tone caught her attention and she sobered, looking at him. There was a smolder in his eyes that made her go weak and warm.

  “Only because you helped me find it.” His hand lay on her knee; she closed hers over it, holding it tight. “Without you I’d still be crying in that bar.”

  “No. You’re a strong woman. You always will be. I love you for it.”

  “Just for that?”

  “Amongst other things. A lot of other things.”

  He leaned toward her to kiss her, but just then the car hit a large rut and bounced violently. Laughing, Trey pulled it back under control.

  Laughing, as well, but with her heart still in her throat, Piper looked out the window. “Look. Mailbox. We must be getting close.”

  The mailbox, painted a medium pine-green and decorated with hummingbirds, was shiny and looked as if it had rarely been used, but it said BINGHAM on the side. Piper wondered if they really spent enough time here to justify a mailbox, or if it was more for decoration. Not that it mattered. She peered ahead through the trees, trying to get a glimpse of the cabin.

  It came into view after a few more seconds, and she smiled. The little wooden structure couldn’t have been much more than a thousand square feet. A small, blue car sat in front, and smoke was coming out of the chimney.

  “They’re here already,” she said.

  “Nadia said they probably would be.” Trey maneuvered the car up beside the Binghams’. “They started out pretty early this morning. She wanted to be sure the fire was going, so the place would be warm.”

  Piper watched him shut off the car, nerves taking her over again. “She probably cooked.”

  Trey gave a tentative smile. “Yeah, I would imagine so.”

  They got out of the car, retrieved their bags from the trunk, and walked together to the front door. Trey knocked.

  They waited. Piper looked around, at the soft afternoon sun slanting down through the branches of the trees, the curl of smoke rising from the little cabin to meet a small square of blue sky visibl
e above. The smell of the wood smoke tickled her nostrils, warm and homey.

  “They’re good people,” Piper said, as if reminding herself.

  “They are.”

  He started to say something else, but just then the door opened. Nadia stood on the other side, smiling. She had flour on her hands.

  “Sorry. I was making cookies.” She stepped back, holding the door open. “Thought you guys might like some. I even managed to cook most of the dough.”

  Piper walked into the front room, setting her bags down just inside the door. The sweet smell filling the cabin made her smile. “Chocolate chip. Nice.”

  “My favorite,” Trey added.

  “Mine, too.” Brice emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. “I was just cleaning up,” he explained.

  Piper smiled at Nadia. “It’s nice he’s domestic.”

  She grinned back. “Yes. I’ve trained him well.”

  Piper looked at Brice and her smile faded again. He was giving her a friendly look, but it felt odd, as if his gaze were palpable on her skin.

  In a few hours, she would make love to this man.

  The thought made her tingle, but it felt so strange. Uncomfortable. Ritual or no ritual, she wasn’t sure how she was going to make it through.

  Looking over her shoulder, she found Trey, her rock, her guide. He would be there to help her. Then she looked at Nadia. Nadia would be there, too…

  Piper shook off the thought. No point borrowing trouble. They’d get through this the way they’d gotten through everything, even the weirdest things that had plagued them in their decidedly odd relationship. One step at a time.

  Brice took a seat on the couch in the living room. “So how was the drive?”

  Staunchly, Piper went to take a seat, as well, on a chair next to the couch. “It was nice. This is a pretty area. Lots of trees.”

  “Yes, there are a lot of trees,” Nadia agreed, and Piper suddenly got the impression Nadia was as nervous as she was. This was the first time it had seemed that way to her, and the realization relieved her. So she wasn’t the only one at a loss. She glanced at Brice. He was still rubbing at his hands, which she was certain were already clean. Not exactly at ease, then, either. Apparently they were all in the same boat.

  Nadia, still standing near the front door, finally turned and walked back toward the kitchen. “The cookies will be done in a few minutes. Does everybody want milk?”

  A few minutes later, they were cozily ensconced in living room chairs, eating cookies and milk. Trey had finished an account of his and Piper’s trip from New York, and Piper kept looking at Brice, sometimes finding him looking back at her. She liked the way he regarded her, with a certain gentleness in his eyes that she thought might be sympathy. Not pity—just a kind of understanding that comforted her.

  She glanced at Trey and smiled. He, too, had a soft, comforting expression on his face. It eased her, to think they both might be particularly concerned with caring for her.

  It’ll be all right. She’d told herself this a hundred times during the drive, but she wasn’t sure she believed it. Until now. Now she felt like it might be true.

  * * * * *

  Evening came softly, almost unexpectedly. Piper was involved with the game of rummy they’d started about an hour before, and barely noticed the fall of darkness until she looked up and found her own reflection looking back at her from the front window, rather than a view of the tree-filled yard.

  Trey looked up, as well, following her gaze. He looked surprised, as well, and looked at his watch. “Goodness. Getting late.”

  Nadia looked at the clock on the wall. “Yes, it is.”

  She looked at Brice. Brice looked back, then looked at Piper, who looked at Trey and then at Nadia. A sense of unease drifted over the room.

  “Four nines,” said Trey, and laid the cards down on the table. “If I haven’t won yet, I will within ten minutes. Mark my words.”

  Piper smiled at him. He seemed to be deliberately hanging on to normality, bringing it constantly back into the circle, whether to ease himself or to ease her, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. It helped.

  “I concede to you, then,” Nadia said, and laid down her cards. She glanced toward the kitchen; Piper wasn’t sure why. “So…time for bed?”

  Brice nodded. He put down his cards and walked into the kitchen.

  “Tonight?” Piper whispered to Trey.

  Trey shrugged. “We should.”

  Piper nodded. “Is the ritual long?”

  “It can be. It depends…” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you need more time—”

  “No, I get it. It’s okay.”

  Brice emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and a paper bag. Piper recognized the bottle of wine as the one they’d brought with them, the special vintage from South Africa, made by shapeshifters. A soft hint of the sharp odor of eucalyptus leaves drifted toward her. Herbs in the bag, then. Perhaps the candles. She looked at Trey, and he smiled reassuringly.

  Nadia rose from her chair and held a hand out to Piper. “Come on,” she said, smiling.

  Piper took her hand and let her lead the way into the bedroom. Brice was ahead of them, Trey trailing behind. Brice set the bottle of wine on the chest of drawers and opened the paper bag, taking out candles one at a time, setting them on the chest. Trey joined him, drawing additional candles and small bags of herbs from the bag.

  Nadia squeezed Piper’s hand, and Piper was surprised to realize she was still holding it. The other woman’s hand was small and warm in hers, and she enjoyed the way it felt. Another surprise.

  Brice was putting together the pieces of a potpourri burner; when he was done he lit the votive candle on the bottom and opened the bottle of wine, pouring it into the bowl. Trey sorted through the small bags of herbs, picking out four. He took a bit out of each bag and dropped the dried leaves and stems into the bowl of wine. Then he took four small glasses from the bag and poured wine into them, passing them around.

  Piper took her glass and looked into the dark, purple depths. It was a rich wine, and the fruity smell drifted up to her as she held it, waiting. She wondered what might be in it besides alcohol and the remains of crushed grapes. And plums. Trey had said it had plums.

  When they all had their glasses, Trey lifted his. Piper half expected some sort of toast, but she had no idea what might be appropriate in this situation.

  He spoke, but not in English. The language was unfamiliar, softly susurrant, strange. Piper felt almost like she should have been able to make some sense of it, but it was only sounds. She thought perhaps she might have heard something like it in the caves in Australia, when the other shapeshifters had accepted Trey’s promotion to leader of the community.

  He spoke for a few seconds, then smiled at Piper, at Nadia, at Brice, and sipped from his glass. The others followed suit.

  The wine had a dark, rich flavor, fruity but more, and again she wondered what might be in it. It moved warmly down through her, the alcohol hitting her quickly. The taste was indescribable. It tasted like lust, somehow, like desire and need and the throbbing of enflamed blood.

  Fragrances from the potpourri burner had started to fill the room, as well. Piper had recognized the individual herbs, but mingled with the warmed wine, the smell was something entirely new. Again, it was thick, heady, lusty. She swallowed. Arousal tremored over her skin. She needed—something. Someone.

  Trey drank all of the contents of his glass, and Piper did the same, assuming it was the right thing to do. Nadia and Brice drained their glasses, as well. Carefully, feeling a little woozy, Piper set her empty glass on the dresser.

  Trey looked at her and smiled warmly. “You and I, then,” he said.

  She regarded him, unsure what he meant. “You and I?”

  Nadia gave Trey an accusatory look. “You didn’t explain the details of the ritual?”

  “I asked him not to,” Piper broke in, before Nadia could jump to further conclu
sions. “I was stressing enough, I thought, without knowing all the…specifics.”

  Nadia nodded. Her smile, while understanding, was somehow also sad.

  “It’ll be all right,” she said softly. “We’re doing everything we can to be sure of that.”

  “I know. And the more people tell me that, the more nervous I get about it, so—” She broke off with a wry smile, hoping she wasn’t coming off like a bitch.

  Apparently she wasn’t, because Brice laughed. “Piper, I know exactly what you mean. I know it’ll work out, but it’s all damn freaky-weird right now. And is it just me, or is that wine like triple octane or something?”

  “It’s the herbs, and the wine…it’s the whole effect,” Trey offered. He held his hand out to Piper. “So. You and me.”

  It finally struck her exactly what he meant by that. She and Trey, together. Making love. While the other two watched.

  She put her hand in Trey’s and let him lead her to the bed. “Why?”

  Trey sat on the bed and bent to untie his shoes, then hers. “To learn. Through observation, they learn us. Then they go, and we learn each other. Then—all of us together, and the seeds are planted.”

  The formal sound of the words made her think he was quoting something. Probably he was—quoting the relevant sections of the ritual. She wondered how old it was, how many times it had been used. If it worked.

  She leaned back a bit as Trey pulled her socks off, his fingers tracing up the soles of her feet. She shivered; she was ticklish there and he knew it, and he laughed a little at her reaction.

  The herbs and the wine were obviously working. Piper felt loose and languid, relaxed. Almost like she actually could fuck her husband in front of another couple and not be particularly concerned by the action. She felt a little high, a little drunk, and a lot happy.