Sleight (23 page)

“Ah, man, are you serious?” I laughed out loud, awed by Summer’s venomous but creative spin. “Wow…she should totaly work at a gossip rag. Write stories about alien bat babies and Brad Pitt’s love children with Martha Stewart.”

“Fortunately, most people know she’s ful of shit. Your reputation wil survive��”

“At least until we do have a lover’s quarrel and I do pass out from a night of binge drinking from trying to mend my broken heart,” I said.

“Wel, if you’re looking for a place to do that drinking, there’s a bar outside of town where Brad is reported to have been seen on a number of occasions, usualy with Martha Stewart passed out in the back of a Hummer with their five love children.”

“That’s gross. Seriously. Brad Pitt, yes. But Martha Stewart?

He sleeps with Angelina Jolie, dude. I’m not even into chicks, but I’d so be into her,” I said.

Henry laughed and grabbed for my hand, shifting his body so one of his legs was bent on the surface of the bed. “Wel, I’l do my best to not break your heart.” He moved his face to within an inch from mine. I closed the gap and kissed him. “Can’t have you drinking and carrying on al over town now, can we?” he whispered.

I cupped his face in my hand. “I’m so glad you’re not my brother.” Henry laughed. I kissed him again. “And by the sounds of it, seems it’s not broken hearts we have to be worried about. More like stopped hearts.”

“What does that mean?” he said, puling back.

“Lucian. He wants us dead. You read Delia’s warning.”

“Ah, he’s harmless.”

“Um, no, he’s not. He’s deadly, and you know it.”

“Yeah, but I’m badass. We both are. And he’s afraid of us together.”

I cocked my head, stunned by his flippant attitude. “Henry, how can you even joke about this?”

“Gemma, how can I not? What’s the alternative? I know this is serious. I live with it every day, under the same roof with the threat that I don’t know if today wil be my last sunrise or sunset.” He ran his finger along the seam of his pants, head down, and plucked a fuzz from the fabric. “But I know what’s coming. You—we—just have to have faith in the process. We’re not dead yet,” he said,

“which means we fight like hel.”

He smiled and looked up at me, his head bent forward and turned sideways. His eyes were soft, genuine, the flush radiating from our clasped hands soothing. I ran my free hand along his jaw line, smooth from a fresh shave, and leaned into him, planting a kiss on his perfect lips.

“How come, if Lucian doesn’t want us together, he came to the hospital with you?”

“I said I was going, and there was nothing he could do to stop me. Plus, he wanted to make sure he wasn’t liable, you know, accident on his property…for Lucian, it’s always about looking good, protecting his interests.”

“How’d you know, Henry?” I wanted to hear him say it out loud. Alicia told me.

“A friendly neighborhood ghost told me.”

“Realy? I didn’t know Casper made house cals.”

“He does in your case,” Henry laughed.

“Yes, yes, in my case, definitely,” I chuckled. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“As your official stalker, I couldn’t stay away,” he said, our foreheads touching. He puled back suddenly, looking at the bandage around my head.

“Oooh, sorry…”

“It doesn’t hurt. Relax.”

We stared at each other for a while, consumed by the fierceness of this connection, strange in its intensity, even a little overwhelming, but in a cool way. It gave me a morsel of understanding about my mother’s terrific anguish over the loss of Jonah. She’d loved him that much. I finaly understood what he’d meant to her.

Yet this was a brand new relationship, this thing with Henry Dmitri. And it was beyond complicated. Was it wrong for me to feel so strongly about this person so soon? The weirdest thing was that I wanted to feel this way. I needed to feel this way. I wasn’t shying away from him, making excuses about having to scoop poop or practice violin as I sometimes did with Junie. But that’s like comparing apples with oranges, Junie vs. Henry. Totaly different.

Maybe I just needed to hang out with Henry long enough to give him the chance to annoy me. Maybe I’d falen too soon. Maybe I should’ve played the field a little to see what life as a “normal” teenager was al about.

Ridiculous. There was nothing normal about me. I was an outcast who saw dead people and carried on conversations with apparitions, not to mention I was alegedly an heir to something I didn’t at al understand.

And sitting in front of me, holding my hand, staring into my eyes like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see, was my very own Romeo. My Mr. Darcy, Orlando, and Lancelot, al roled into one knight in shining armor. Handsome, a little nerdy, insecure without being needy, respectful, concerned, caring, mysteriously talented.

What more could a girl want?

We needed each other, like a body needs fresh air and water and food to replenish cels and sustain life. One without the other was incomplete. And doomed.

It was Henry who I’d been waiting for, who filed the hole in my heart, whose thoughts and dreams I wanted to hear, whose arms I wanted wrapped around me and whose lips I wanted next to mine.

As I studied his face with my eyes and my fingertips, I knew that if being with Henry meant taking on Lucian Dmitri and a torrent of angry spirits and old grudges, I’d handle anything that came my way. At the risk of sounding cliché, I’d do anything for Henry.

Anything.

And judging by the longing in his eyes as he looked back at me, judging by the warmth in his fingertips as he traced the contours of my face and the ridges in my lips, it would be safe for me to assume that Henry felt the same way.

He kissed me, the tempo almost desperate, our bodies close. He alternated between touching my hair and my face, gentle but passionate, fervent but controled. I buried my fingers in his hair, puled him into me by the unbuttoned colar of his shirt, rubbed my cheeks against the texture of his cheek while inhaling his scent in the deepest breaths my lungs would alow. I’d never felt safer or more alive than I did when I was in his arms.

“Even if we’d been related…I couldn’t let this go,” he whispered.

“Henry,” I bit and released his lip, “that’s sick.” We started cracking up. “Yeah, okay, so it’s a little sick, me being hot for my sister.”

“Meet my brother, the perv,” I teased. As he replanted his lips on mine, I was so, so, so glad that we weren’t related.

My cel phone vibrated to life on the floor. It must’ve gotten knocked off the bed as I did what I could to scoot as close as possible to Henry. I groaned and tried to grab it but it was just out of my reach. Henry bent over and picked it up before it stopped buzzing, flipping it open and placing it to my ear. He then kissed around the edges of the opposite ear, sending shivers through me.

Sort of made it impossible to concentrate on the caler and whatever nonsense they wanted.

It was Marlene, caling to let me know she was on her way over from the stadium with the circus medic so he could check my stitches.

“Marlene’s bringing reinforcements,” I said, pointing to my head.

We straightened our clothing and I fluffed my hair in preparation for her momentary arrival. I was glad she’d caled prior to busting in on Henry and me. Talk about awkward…

“I have to meet Lucian for dinner, anyway. His parents are in town, so it’s a Dmitri family reunion over surf-and-turf tonight.”

“Sounds like a blast.”

Henry laughed. “Yeah, not. More like boring. Lucian’s father, Marku—”

“My grandfather…” Wow. I have grandparents.

“Yeah,” Henry chuckled. “He’s terrific. You’l like him. But Lilith, she’s tough. Let’s just say she’s not the silver-haired, cheek-pinching sort of granny.”

I wanted to know more about the Dmitris, now that I had a genetic, blood interest. Lucian stil intimidated the hel out of me, and I was right to fear him, but to hear Henry speak of Lucian so casualy, to know Henry had grown up as Lucian’s child even though he wasn’t…it was al just so outlandish. A giant game of charades. Dangerous charades, like a bad action film. Sad, but true.

We were al in this absurd holding pattern to see who was going to make the next move. The curious part of me wanted to go with Henry to dinner, to meet the grandparents, my grandparents, to watch Lucian, see if I could recognize a part of myself in him. That idea scared the shit out of me, that I could be anything like him. A daughter is part of the father…

We sat in the silence of the trailer and waited for Marlene, Henry’s arms wrapped around me while we listened to the show’s tempo ebb and flow, the oohs and aahs of the not-too-distant crowd. I imagined the trapeze artists getting things underway, Junie and Ash and their wacky parents tumbling in midair, alternating between releases and spins, each trick building the danger and suspense. I could see ecstasy on Junie’s face when on the dance trapeze, spinning through space, the concentration on Ash’s brow as he focused on a catch-and-release move that held the lives of his family—literaly—in his hands.

“Thank you, so much, for everything. For the flowers, for staying with me last night,” I said, touching his hand. “Thanks for knowing just what I needed.”

“You’re never alone. If you want me, I’m here.” I moved my hand to his cheek. “I want you,” I whispered.

The latch on the door clicked, and I released Henry’s face just as Marlene walked in with Tony. After introductions, smal talk was exchanged about the excelent turnout for the evening’s performance, the sudden rain stoppage, the exuberant audience lapping up every bit of the new show format. When Tony opened his smal case and started fumbling around for gauze and supplies, Henry leaned over one last time.

“Email me later, if you’re up for it. We can talk online.” He gave me a quick hug and a chaste peck on the cheek. Had Marlene and Tony not been present, I wouldn’t have let him leave with such a wel-behaved goodbye.

“Oh, and I’l see you Sunday, for sure,” he said, waving as he walked out.

Once he’d gone, Tony snipped off the bandage wrapped around my head. Despite the twelve stitches and bruising on my forehead, I felt spectacular, only a smal ache in my chest that had nothing to do with my head injury and everything to do with the fading tailights of Henry’s car leaving the fairgrounds in the dim glow of evening.

:24:

Childhood is what you spend the rest of your life trying to overcome. That’s what Momma always says. She says that beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will…

—Birdee Pruitt, Hope Floats

Aunt Marlene and I decided to sneak out and grab a couple of DVDs (ended up with a Sandra Bulock romantic comedy and a documentary about the global food supply), as wel as some tools for an evening of decadent chocolate therapy. We weren’t needed in the big top and I needed to get out of my head, forget al this insanity if only for a few hours.

While we were in the grocery store, I saw one of our Roulette handbils screaming from a community buletin board near the front doors. I wandered over while Marlene paid for her few groceries and was surprised by the sight of another advertisement posted on the same slab of cork. It was a flyer advertising a reading and discussion group whose topic was La Una. Seemed Eaglefernies were realy into their philosophy, like some smal towns were into Jesus and community baptisms. If they only knew…it made my blood run cold.

“Hey, Gemma.” I jumped and nearly toppled my bag of M&Ms onto the floor.

“Hi. Bradley, right?”

“Yeah,” he snickered.

“Uh, how’s it going?”

“Good, good. Just stopped in to get some munchies. My girlfriend, Jerrica, she’s PMS’ing,” he said, raising two stuffed bags in front of him. “Hey, so, how are you feeling? I heard you had an accident or something.”

“Oh,” I touched my forehead, “fine. I’m fine. I just tripped. The circus is a dangerous place.”

“That’s what I hear,” he said. Wow, this is awkward. “Are you going to that?” He nodded toward the buletin board.

“To the La Una thing? No way. I’m just kiling time, waiting for my aunt.”

“You should go to one of those. They’re hilarious. People get crazy about that stuff. And they serve tons of food. Dmitri Holdings caters them.”

“Dmitri Holdings caters the La Una meetings?”

“Yeah, and the food rocks. It’s almost worth listening to their bulshit, just for the food.”

“Huh…”

“Wel, I gotta run before Jerrica eats the cushions in the car,” he said. “Hope you’re feeling better soon. Are you coming back to school next week?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure. And thanks.”

“Take care, Gemma.” He winked at me.

“Bye.” I watched him as he stroled out of the front of the store, his swagger more pronounced than usual. I shuddered. The way he looked at me, like I was dessert, creeped me out.

Dmitri Holdings catered the La Una meetings? Wow. Cailum Tridin. Lucian Dmitri. My father. Stop thinking about this…stop thinking about this…

The show was wrapping up as we parked on the grounds, so Marlene excused herself to go check on things once she saw me back to the trailer. I asked her to intercept Junie and tel her we’d visit tomorrow. I wanted only to curl up with my movie and junk food, and of course, check in with Henry.

As I scrubbed the grime from the day off my face, I examined my wound close up in the bluish light of the bathroom fixture. The bruise was pretty gross, but nothing makeup wouldn’t cover, at least in a few days’ time. The doctor had done an incredible job on the stitches; the line was superfine and clean. I should thank Lucian for bringing in Dr. Krishnov. But that would mean talking to Lucian, and such prospect made my guts seize. I’d tel Henry, have him extend my thanks. Good enough.

Speaking of Henry, a rush of excitement washed over me as I logged onto my computer and puled the drape around my bed. It was early yet for him to be online. He was probably stil at dinner and would be for hours, considering the Dmitris were European, a culture accustomed to lengthy, late-night meals. I posted a quick note on his Facebook wal, an impish comment about booze and a lover’s quarrel, as I knew Summer Day would see it and use it as fuel for her ongoing investigation and subsequent dish about Henry and me. I then sent him a private message, again thanking him for being so fabulous, and added a quick blurb about the positive report from Tony the medic, about the La Una reading group flyer, about seeing Bradley at the market and what he’d told me.