A Necklace of Water (18 page)

“I’ll be back,” I said. “Tomorrow.”

I
walked down the old curving steps that led from Daedalus’s apartment to the courtyard below, holding on to the rail for balance on my shaky legs. I felt like crap. Again. Though it was beginning to feel less intense, as Daedalus had promised.

I’d parked the rental car three blocks away on another street and at the time had congratulated myself on my clever stealthiness. Now, of course, realizing I had to walk three blocks (even short Quarter blocks), I cursed myself. It was barely five o’clock, but clouds covered the whole sky and made it seem later. When I passed a tiny corner store, I bought an orange soda and chugged it. The jolt of sugar immediately made me feel stronger, and by the time I got to my car, the bottle was empty and I felt vaguely human.

A tall weeping willow hung over a brick wall, shading the sidewalk where I’d parked my car. I unlocked the door and practically fell into the front seat, so thankful to be sitting down. Goddess, I needed to get my act together before I drove home. This wasn’t like being drunk, where I could do a spell to clear out my blood. This I just had to get through. I needed to go home and get under a hot shower. Though Nan was still weak and preoccupied, Thais had quit freezing me out since our pact. I still felt bad about studying with Daedalus, knowing how much she didn’t want me to, but it was getting easier to not feel as guilty about it.

“What the hell are you doing with Daedalus?”

The tense, quiet voice from the backseat made me jump about a foot and stifle a shriek. Even before I hit the seat again, my brain had registered that it was Richard, that he had somehow gotten into my locked car, that he’d waited for me.

“What the hell are you doing in my car?” I shot back, my hand to my chest as if it would slow down my electrified heartbeat. Then I really looked at him and almost gasped again.

He
was
older, like Thais had said about Manon. Richard was
older
. I mean, of course he was ancient. But he’d always looked like a kid, about
fifteen. Now he was bigger—his baggy clothes seemed almost too small. His face, once smooth and almost pretty, had harder planes. He still looked young, under twenty, but so, so different.

And he was
stunning
. I was so taken aback I just gawked at him while my brain went,
Damn, he’s hot
. Then I shook my head to clear those thoughts and remembered to frown at him.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I look older. What the hell are you doing with Daedalus? And why do I think it’s something incredibly stupid and dangerous?”

“You do look older,” I said snidely. “I can’t wait to see what you look like when you’re two hundred and forty-two. And what makes you think I’m doing anything with Daedalus?”

“If I keep going, I’ll be two hundred and fifty-seven,” he corrected me. “Maybe because I saw you go into his place six hours ago and just saw you come out. And you look like
that.
“ He pointed a finger at me.

Irrationally, I thought about what I usually looked like when I left Daedalus’s apartment (pale and sick) and wished I looked better. I hated Richard seeing me vulnerable, not at my best. Then his words sank in.

“Are you
stalking
me now?” I put total outrage into my voice.

“Yes.” Richard actually climbed over the seat and dropped down next to me. He was at least three inches taller and maybe fifteen pounds heavier than he had been—it was hard to tell.

My cheeks heated. I wanted to kick him out and race home, but if I did anything too vigorous, I was pretty sure I would hurl.

We faced each other with narrowed eyes.

“What do you want?” I said impatiently.

He looked at me so intensely that I leaned back an inch, and then his beautiful, hard mouth smiled. My breath caught. Slowly he looked me up and down, like he’d done before, and I crossed my arms over my chest when his gaze lingered.

“Stop it and get out,” I said, trying to sound bored.

He leaned against the car door, calmer, not as angry. No one had ever defied me as much as Richard did every time I saw him. It was infuriating.

“Okay, if you won’t get out, I will.” I wrenched open the car door and got out, then realized of course that I had nowhere to go. Richard came and stood face-to-face with me on the sidewalk.

“What are you doing with Daedalus?” he demanded.

“Nothing.”

He changed tactics. “Why’d you tell ole Luc that we’d had sex?”

Oh my God—I had managed to forget about that. It all came back in a rush, what I had shouted angrily when I left their apartment.
Crap.
My face flushed with embarrassment. Good—at least I wasn’t pale and pasty anymore.

“To shut him up. Now it’s your turn. Go away.” I looked for an escape route—and saw a small wooden door set into the brick wall I was parked beside. Someone’s private garden. I leaped for the door, pushed it hard, and tried to slam it in back of me.

Effortlessly, Richard held the door open. “I don’t scare off that easy,” he said, pushing his way in, shutting the door behind him.

I looked for another way out, trying not to show how mad and sick I felt. This was me,
Clio
, actually on the run from someone. This had never happened before—I was a different, weaker person, and it was freaking me out.

A marble bench gleamed faintly in the twilight, and I sank down on it before I fell down.

“Please go away.” I rubbed my eyes, keeping my hands over my face.

Slowly he pulled my hands away, waiting until I looked at him. I wasn’t used to older Richard, his appearance.

“Daedalus can’t be trusted.” His words were quiet, and in the shadowed garden, it felt like we were the only two people alive.

I swallowed. “I know.” But of course, I
was
trusting him.

“He has his own agendas that you can’t know anything about.” With big-cat grace Richard sat next to me, and I felt his warmth from inches away.

“What do you mean?”

“Daedalus is playing out a couple of centuries of history right here, right now, in this city. You and Thais are caught in the middle of it. I don’t know what he’s doing or what his plan is, but I do know that when the hellfire shows up, the only person he’ll save is himself.”

I didn’t understand. There was so much that wasn’t clear. I swallowed. Why did Richard seem so incredibly caring sometimes and so angry and bitter other times? Why should I trust him when I knew he’d tried to hurt me and Thais? I looked at him, his dark brown eyes, hair still tortoiseshell-colored, summer-streaked, his skin still tan.

“What hellfire?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I just know he’s got something going. And it won’t be good for anyone but him. I mean, I can’t help caring about the old bastard. He’s helped me out of some hard places. But in the end, he would gladly throw me into the furnace if it would save his ass.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The bench was hard and cold. I was exhausted and prayed that I wouldn’t end up crying.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You mean, by anyone else but you?”

His face didn’t change; he wasn’t going to rise to my bait.

“Clio,” he said very seriously, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Why? Why do you care?” Impatiently I met his eyes, took in his new face again. “Why are you even
here?
“

I saw his indecision.

“Because you want to use me against Luc? Because you care about Petra and she’d be upset if something happened to me? Because you’d rather hurt me
yourself?
“ I was fed up—fed up with him, with everyone, with feeling this way.

“No!” He was frowning again, taking on his look of perpetual irritation. “You know that’s not true.”

I stood up. I was done. I was leaving, and if he still hassled me, I would—

Typically, he moved fast, standing and yanking my car keys away. He stuffed them into his pants pocket as I gaped at him.

“What the—”

“Shut up,” he said, holding me hard by the shoulders. “You know I—” He looked like this was really costing him, and I thought,
Good.
“I—want you.”

My mouth almost dropped open. “That’s it? That’s the big drama? Give me my damn keys back! Of course you want me, you idiot! Everyone wants me! What are you—”

“I’m not
everyone
,” he interrupted me furiously. “You stuck-up, full-of-yourself bi—witch! This is
me
! I don’t want
anyone.
I don’t
love
anyone. I don’t need
anything.
“ He took a deep breath. “I’m telling you that—I… want
you.
I—” He looked awful, as if saying this was ruining his life. Wait a second, was he trying to say that he …?

I didn’t know what to think. Richard had loved Cerise, a long, long time ago. As far as I knew, he hadn’t loved anyone since, though I was sure he’d been with a million people.

What did this mean? Was he setting me up? If he was serious, how did I feel about it?

“I know you think you still love that joker,” he said, his voice bitter.

I did still love Luc. I would always love him.

“But he doesn’t even see you.”

“What does
that
mean?”

Richard’s face was hard and set. “He looks at you and sees … Thais’s sister.”

My eyes flew wide. “Shut up, you bastard!” I spat. “You don’t know anything about it! You don’t know me or him or anything!” On top of the intense magick I had made today, this was pushing me over the edge. I rushed toward the exit, not caring that he still had my keys.

“Clio!” Richard’s hand held the garden door shut, and he expertly dodged my kick aimed at his shin. “I’m not trying to hurt you or make you upset.” His voice was oddly quiet and gentle.

“Well, you’ve goofed, then,” I snapped, trying to kick him again.

“Why does it have to be like this?” Richard’s voice was loud, exasperated. “I’m trying to talk to you! There’s something between us—there always has been. Why can’t you just calm down and see it?”

“Because you’re a jerk?” I guessed.

“Clio.” The one word was warm, inviting, and alarms went off. “We’re two of a kind, you and I. You don’t want Luc—he’s cold. You want me. You and me—we’re fire together.”

Oh no
, I had enough time to think, and then of course Richard was reaching for me, and of course I wasn’t going anywhere, only half pretending to push away from him. He gathered me to him easily, slowly, giving me time to protest.

“No—stop,” I whispered as his head came lower. Already excitement was igniting in my chest, my body recognizing him. It was
so stupid
, how I gave in so easily, but he was the only thing in my life that felt good right now.

Richard stopped and looked at me, how I was waiting for him to kiss me. “You always say that,” he said softly. “You never mean it. You want me.”

There was no way I could admit it.

One hand curved around my lower back, pulling me closer to him. I felt his height, his new muscled weight—he was so familiar, but different.

“Ask me to kiss you,” he whispered, his soft hair brushing against my skin.

I couldn’t.

“Ask me, and I’ll kiss you,” he coaxed, so softly I could barely hear him. “You can have anything you ask for.” He waited, and I still couldn’t say anything, but inside I was trembling, aching for him. Like I always did, despite everything.

“Whatever you want,” Richard said, his words setting off tendrils of anticipation along my nerves. “All you have to do is ask.”

Oh goddess, I hated myself. And I wanted him so much.

“Kiss me.” My words had hardly any sound, but it was enough. His mouth came down on mine, firm and warm, and his arms tightened, as if keeping me from falling off a cliff. Suddenly I felt warm and safe … happy and loved. It was ludicrous, some part of me knew, but I no longer cared. I wrapped my arms around him and held him hard against me. Our mouths opened and I kissed him as deeply as I could, feeling his heart speed up, his breathing quicken.

It wasn’t enough. I pushed my hands under his shirt, feeling his new body with its same silken skin, same hard muscles. He groaned against my mouth, sliding his fingers through my hair, holding my head so he could kiss me however he wanted.

There, in the dark garden, I asked him for more and more, and whatever I asked for, he gave me.

“Y
ou look much better.” Petra sat back and surveyed her work. Next to her, Ouida nodded, her face serene. The two of them had spent the afternoon working on Luc, and Petra knew it had taken longer than usual because she’d found it almost impossible to concentrate.

She’d seen Melita, for the first time in 242 years.

Her one child, out of five, who had lived.

“Really?” Luc tried to look unconcerned, but Petra saw the hope in his eyes. She knew he was forcing himself to not jump up and look in the mirror.

She was so tired, and now her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Ouida, as if reading her mind, got up and brought her a cup of hot black tea.

“Thank you,” Petra said, taking a sip, feeling the warmth go down. She glanced at the window—it was dark out. They’d started at four in the afternoon. “What time is it?” Answering her own question, she checked the kitchen clock. Almost eight. “Where are the girls?”