A Necklace of Water

by Cate Tiernan

  “Look, I’ll do it later,” I said, thinking that I wasn’t really lying. “But goddess, Nan—I’ve had so many huge things explode in my life lately. I can’t take one more pressure.”

  “No, I can’t allow you to throw this away so easily,” Nan said crossly. “You’ve been studying for a long time, and I won’t have you waste it.”

  “Knowledge is never wasted,” I said, keeping a lid on my temper. “Yousaid that.”

  “Look, you’re going to make your rite of ascension next month, and that’s final.”

  I didn’t say anything but dried my hands on a dish towel. There wasn’t any point to arguing more. Later I would probably have to dig my heels in again, but for now I was going to drop it. I looked up to see Thais watching us, and I was sure she was happy to be out of it.

  “What are you doing tonight?” I asked her. “How’s the Kevster?”

  After a quick, startled glance at the change in topic, she looked away from me, her face guarded. “Fine.”

  I wasn’t positive she needed to break up with him myself. Maybe this was why she was acting weird. No—it seemed to be about me in particular.

  “I’m going to meet Racey downtown,” I said. “Want to come with?”

  For a moment she paused, as if considering, then gave me a cool look and shook her head. “I’ve got a killer headache,” she said. “Maybe it’s allergies. I’m going to stay in and go to bed early.”

  “Okaaay.” We couldn’t have it out in front of Nan, but if she wanted to be that way, fine. I draped the dish towel over the sink to dry, and when I glanced up, Nan was giving me an eagle-eyed look.

  “What?” I said.

  “This discussion is not over,” she said.

  I sighed. “Please just think about where I’m coming from. But right now I’m going to meet Racey.” I prayed that she wouldn’t suddenly put her foot down and say I couldn’t go. I wasn’t up for a big battle.

  I saw the thought processes going on in her head. Finally she nodded shortly. “We’ll talk about this later. Don’t be out too late.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Hope you feel better, Thais.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Then I grabbed my purse and car keys, and I was gone.

  In the car, I pulled out my phone and dialed Racey’s number. At the last second, I didn’t hit send. I steered with one hand, holding my phone in the other, and thought about where my head was. What did I feel like doing? Who did I feel like being with?

  No one. Someone new and fabulous.

  With irritation I remembered how Richard had grabbed me the other day, when Nan had been working on Luc. No one had ever pissed me off as regularly as Richard did. If only I could wipe that smirk off his face once and for all.

  And Luc. Goddess, what had happened to him? I really did think it was a shame, but it also seemed to be a living example of the threefold law. He’d put some bad energy out into the world, some real pain, and what do you know, he’d gotten the same back.

  I was amazed at how resigned he was too, how incredibly horrible he looked, after looking like a god on earth for so long. He seemed to accept it as his fate—he wasn’t raging against it or saying it was unfair. To me that meant he understood that what he’d done had been wrong and bad and that he should pay for it.

  My thoughts exactly.

  But I did feel sorry for him. Nan had said that he felt like a leper, walking around town. That people actually gasped and turned away. That had to suck. If that had happened to me, I’d be hiding under my bedcovers for the rest of my life or until it got fixed somehow. At least Nan had mentioned that his face was improving a bit.

  Looking up, I saw I was already at Jackson Avenue, halfway downtown. Maybe … maybe I would go see Luc. See how he was. He didn’t deserve my help, and I wouldn’t offer it. Still, if everyone was freaking out when they saw him, it would be nice for him to see someone who could deal with his face the way it was.

  Richard answered the door, unfortunately. He was in his standard uniform of unbuttoned plaid flannel shirt, ratty jeans, and bare feet. His sun-streaked hair looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. I’d been taking extra care with my appearance to cheer myself up, and I looked hot in a gauzy peasant shirt you could see my bra through and a pair of tight capris that stopped just below my knees.

  It was nighttime, but the Quarter was well lit, and I was standing practically under a streetlamp. I frowned up at him, and something hit me—he looked different, but how? I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “I was hoping you were out,” I said bluntly.

  “You’re out of luck,” he said. “What’s up? Selling something door-to-door?” He looked me up and down with a mocking gaze, making it clear what he thought I should be selling. Bastard.

  “Here to see Luc,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Should I frisk you for weapons?”

  I tried not to shiver at the thought of his hands patting me down. Instead I smiled sarcastically and didn’t answer. He stepped back from the door and made a sweeping motion with one hand, waving me inside.

  I walked through the doorway, careful not to touch him, but as I passed, I smelled his detergent, the scent of cigarette smoke, and … some kind of spice? Unmistakably Richard. I knew it very well.

  He inhaled as I passed, and from the corner of my eye I saw the smooth tan skin over his collarbones, saw the beginnings of his tribal tattoos. Keeping my eyes straight forward, I went down the hall to Luc’s room, which I’d never been in. Ironically enough.

  Their apartment was a typical half of a double: the front door opened into a long hall that had a row of rooms on the right-hand side. First was a living room, which I’d never paid attention to. I didn’t even know if it had furniture. Then Richard’s room, with its single mattress on the floor. Then Luc’s room. At the end of the hall was the bathroom, and the last room was on the left in a stuck-on addition, making a T: the kitchen. The ceilings were at least twelve feet high, the floor moldings maybe fourteen inches. Two small brass chandeliers, one at each end of the hallway, cast inadequate light. It would be beautiful if someone with money bought it and redid it.

  “I’ll leave you to it, then,” Richard said behind me, and I heard the door to his room shut. I knew it had to be burning him that I was here to see Luc and not him.

  Tough.

  I knocked on Luc’s door. He must know I was here, from my voice if not my vibes.

  “Let me in,” I said. It was then that I realized he wasn’t alone—I felt a female presence. My jaw dropped, and without thinking I turned the doorknob and pushed.

  Luc sat on the side of an antique sleigh bed. His arms were around a girl who was covering her face, clearly sobbing. I stood there, dumbstruck, thinking, My God, even with that face he’s getting girls. Then she looked up, and I was struck again: it was Sophie, and she looked like hell. I knew that she and Manon had broken up, that Manon had moved to Axelle’s—but here she was on Luc’s bed, with his arms around her. Was he taking advantage of her wrecked emotional state to get somewhere with her?

  I gave him an icy glare.

  “Clio!” he said, clearly surprised.

  “Never mind,” I said, stepping back and pulling the door shut hard. My face burned and I was furious at him all over again.

  “Clio, wait!” he called through the door.

  Sophie sobbed again, and Luc said something to her. But I was already striding down the hallway, incensed, reaching for my phone to call Racey to meet me at Amadeo’s.

  Predictably, Richard’s door opened, spilling a rectangle of warm light into the hallway, and I whirled on him.

  “Get a good laugh out of that?” I hissed. “You knew he wasn’t alone!”

  He pretended not to know what I meant, looking confused. “No, Sophie’s in there.”

  “No fricking duh!” I said. “Thanks, jerk!” I spun away and headed for the front door. Richard caught up to me, and since he never had a problem putting his hands
all over me, he grabbed my arm. I stopped with a jolt.

  “What did I do?” he demanded. “I didn’t make her go in there. And it’s just Sophie.”

  “ ‘Just Sophie,’ “ I mimicked. “And they’re on his bed, and his arms are around her!”

  Richard looked at me oddly. “Well, we arein the South.”

  I stared at him, having no idea what he was talking about. Was he saying that being in the South makes people act crazy from the heat? Makes them hornier? I shook my head and tried to yank free, but instead he dragged me into the living room.

  It was dark and unfurnished, because Luc and Richard were perhaps the two least-domestic guys I’d ever met. The long French windows overlooking the street were shuttered, but their transoms let in the streetlamp’s light, so I could see Richard’s face.

  He pushed the door shut with one foot, keeping hold of me.

  “Let go of me!” I hissed.

  “Why are you so mad at me?” he said, his eyes watching my mouth.

  My eyes widened. “Where should I start?” I pulled my arm one last time, and he let me go but stood between me and the door, looking like he wasn’t going to move.

  “How long are you going to be mad about that? Ballpark figure?” he said irritably, and I assumed he was talking about the whole “attempted murder” wrinkle.

  “Um, forever?” I’d never had a crush on Richard, never needed to win him over, so I’d never tempered my anger or watched my words or tried to pretty things up. I always let him have it with both barrels. And he always took it. And came back for more. Come to think of it, he was the only guy I spoke totally straight with, all the time. Basically, it probably confirmed his opinion of me as a total bitch.

  In the next second, just like that, it was like he’d flicked a switch and gone from regular annoying Richard to deadly seductive Richard. Eyes staying focused on my mouth, he stepped a bit closer and visibly let go of his irritation and impatience.

  Oh no, I thought, backing up. No.

  “No, not forever,” he murmured, his voice silky.

  “Leave me alone,” I said.

  He never listened to me. His hand reached out and curled around the back of my neck. I stiffened, narrowing my eyes at him in a way that had once made someone cry.

  “Clio,” he said, so close that I could feel the heat of his skin. “We don’t like each other. But we have this between us. If we gave in to it, maybe it would go away.”

  Yes, said my stupid, easily convinced body.

  “No. Don’t be an ass,” I said.

  I braced myself as he leaned closer, tilting his head to kiss my neck. I pulled back, but he pursued me, pressing his lips against my skin. Again I had an odd, vague sense that something was just slightly … different. It made me crazy not being able to put my finger on it. His mouth was warm and firm and familiar, and shivers ran down my spine. I instantly felt my knees start to melt, which pissed me off. He left another kiss on my neck, by my collarbone, and my heart sped up and my breath got shallow. He always did this—the Richard effect.

  “No, go away,” I said crossly, and pushed against his hard shoulders. Then my hands slid over his shirt, feeling his heat through the cloth, and my brain went dead. He pulled me to him, one hand against the small of my back, one hand sliding up my side. His stomach seemed to burn me through my thin shirt, and all I could think was, Uhhhh… Slowly, slowly, he kissed his way up my neck and across my cheek while my eyelids fluttered closed.

  Somehow, when he kissed me, everything else went away—my pain over Luc, my fear and dread about working with Daedalus, Nan, Thais being upset with me—it all faded. All I was aware of was Richard’s scent, how he felt, how his hands felt moving over me.

  Just as his mouth covered mine, I heard Luc’s door opening and footsteps coming down the hall. My eyes flew open and I quickly stepped back.

  “Damn it!” Richard said, reaching for me, but I had my sanity again and dodged around him, lunging for the living room door, opening it.

  Sophie, still looking upset but no longer crying, nodded at me. “Clio,” she said, as if it were no big deal that I’d found her in Luc’s bedroom. After all, they’d known each other for two hundred years; who knew if they’d been lovers before she’d gotten together with Manon? She opened the front door and left, with one last look at Luc.

  I almost choked when I saw how he looked back at her—I actually saw the love in his eyes, the only part of his ruined face capable of expressing emotion.

  The front door closed, and Luc looked at me. Then he looked at Richard, standing close behind me, and saw that we had just come out of the living room. He frowned, looking back and forth. I could hear Richard breathing hard.

  “What’s going on?” Luc said.

  “Nothing,” I said shortly, heading for the front door. Once again, I was disgusted with both of them and with guys in general.

  “You two—what’s going on?” Luc said, but this time I heard comprehension in his voice.

  “Nothing. You’re the one with the girl in your room.” I reached the front door and pulled it open.

  “What?” Luc asked, sounding incredulous. Little Mr. Innocent. “That was Sophie!”

  “Uh-huh.” I stormed outside and slammed their door behind me. Damn both of them! And damn me, for giving in to Richard again.

  The door opened and Richard came out as I stomped down the steps.

  “We have to sort this out,” he said in a low voice, gesturing between himself and me.

  “No, we don’t,” I said, and began to head to my car.

  “Clio!” Luc’s voice. Disbelieving, I turned around.

  “What are you doing with Richard?” He sounded almost outraged, which was a big laugh and pushed me over the edge. I was so mad at both of them and even more mad at myself that I just lashed out stupidly.

  “I’m sleepingwith him!” I snapped, and then felt worse than mortified when a passerby turned because she’d heard me. My cheeks flamed and I wanted to scream.

  Luc’s jaw dropped open and Richard started in surprise, then grinned lopsidedly.

  I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t start shrieking swearwords at the top of my lungs. Shaking my head, keeping my mouth shut tight, I whirled and practically ran down the sidewalk.

  “Oh, Clio!” Richard called after me. I ignored him. “Sophie is Luc’s sister!”

  Stupid Idiot

  Luc came back inside and shut the door hard, glaring at Richard.

  Richard just grinned and headed for the kitchen.

  “She’s lying,” Luc said, following him.

  “Yep, uh-huh,” Richard replied in a tone calculated to make Luc insane. He flicked on the kitchen light and got a glass out of a cupboard.

  “She’s totally lying,” Luc said. “You didn’t get in her pants.”

  Richard poured himself half a tumbler of whiskey and took a sip, looking innocent. This was too good. He would have to thank Clio later for giving him the most fun he’d had in weeks.

  “Admit it,” Luc demanded, his hands on his hips.

  “Why do you care? I thought you were hot for Thais.”

  Luc started to look angry. “Tell me she’s lying.”

  “I’m not going to tell you anything,” said Richard, brushing past him.

  “Listen, you stay away from her.”

  He really sounded mad, which was verrry interesting. Richard knew Clio still had warped feelings for Luc, but he’d thought Luc was resigned to his disgraced status. The two of them pissed him off—Clio for still thinking she loved Luc when clearly she was all wrapped up in Richard, and Luc for being the greedy bastard that he was. He couldn’t have either twin, but he didn’t want Richard to have Clio either.

  Which was too bad.

  Because Richard was coming to terms with the fact that he did want her.

  Really, really wanted her.

  “What’s it to you?” Richard asked, leaning against the door frame, drinking his whiskey.

&nbs
p; “You stay away from her,” Luc repeated, actually pointing his finger at Richard. “She loves me, and I love her.”

  Richard laughed. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do,” Luc insisted.

  Richard shook his head in disgust. “Whatever. May the best man win.”

  “You’re not even in the running!” Luc almost shouted. “You’re her frigging grandfather!”

  Richard stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Clio and Thais are the thirteenth generation of Cerise’s line,” Luc said deliberately. “Where did Cerise’s line come from?”

  Right. Richard had fathered Cerise’s baby, and he felt the familiar barbed-wire feeling in his heart at the memory of it. Thirteen generations later, the baby he had made had descendents, Clio and Thais. Yes, he wasrelated to them. But incredibly, incredibly distantly. The connection certainly wasn’t close to significant by now.

  “I’m not their grandfather,” Richard said. “The percentage I’m related to them is so small I can’t even figure it out.”

  “You’re still related! I’m telling you, Richard, don’t touch her.”

  “Why not, Luc?” Richard made his voice mild, but he knew that Luc knew him so well that this should be a sign for caution, if not outright alarm.

  “She’s mine.”

  Richard’s eyes narrowed. “Really. Does she know that? Is that why she can’t keep her hands off me?”

  Luc looked stunned, then quickly recovered. He stalked back to his own room, shaking his head.

  “You’re lying.”

  “Yeah,” said Richard, raising his voice so Luc couldn’t help hearing him. “She and I are both lying.”

  Luc slammed his door.

  Richard swirled his drink in his glass, then set the glass down. He had to go get something to eat.

  If He Had Loved Her

  “Smells and bells,” they called it, the “high Church” style of service. A typical Sunday in a town still very Catholic. The priests swung the heavy brass censer, and they carried the Bible around the church, doing the stations of the cross. It was beautiful, ultimately civilized and yet very primitive at the same time.