Crimson Cove (22 page)

“What, class, do you think Lord Byron meant when he said ‘Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray?’”

              No one had listened to Mr. Matthews all those years ago, and I only thought of it now because the beach in front of me was empty, because my thoughts were scattered between the coming nightfall and the silence that surrounded me. Biloxi at night, right along my beach was soothing, calm and lent itself to random thoughts.

              I’d thought of Matthews because the Byron quote had slipped in among the random thoughts.

              “Jani? Any ideas?” Matthew had asked me. It had been the wrong day to ask me about Byron. I never liked the poet or his work. I especially didn’t like him when Bane kept glaring at Nicky Collins for asking me to borrow a pen.

              “Not really, Mr. Matthews,” I’d answered, becoming increasingly interested in the doodle on my page and the loop that arched into the cursive “B”.

              “No, Jani? You don’t have an opinion about Byron’s use of nature in his prose? Specifically storms…”

              “His use of storms,” I grumbled, making that “B” bigger, extending it until it formed a heart. “It’s predictable. It holds no weight.”

              “Storms?”

              “Storms do,” I’d answered my teacher, glancing at him when he cleared his throat. “But he used rainbows. Storms, specific storms, would have been better. Thunder, midnight.”

              “Why thunder and midnight?”

              I hadn’t thought about my response. Just then Bane leaned on his arms, staring right at me as I spoke, heating up my skin with one glance. “It…it’s when magic is the most potent.”

              That time I looked at Bane, returning his grin, getting a rare smile that made me feel a little drunk, punch drunk at least.

              “Ah. I see what you mean. Magic, love…”

              Matthews had gone on and on probing, questioning about Byron and I’d spent the rest of the class period with my eyes closed, pretending to sleep just to burn the image of Bane’s smile into my lids.

              The lights from the dock down the beach flickered on, brought my attention away from my thoughts, away from the beach and the water that went on and on, stretching out into the Gulf. Sunset would bring with it kids on their Thanksgiving break, drinking, running along the beach, avoiding the cops cruising up and down the shoreline. I didn’t need the noise or the hassle, and pulled my canvas sneakers from the makeshift seat on the sand.  I took a moment to dust more of the sparkling white sand from my jeans and hoodie.

              The temperatures hadn’t been truly cool yet and the holiday was turning out to be a mild one, one that I’d spend on my own painting the molding and trim in the den of my newly purchased cottage.

              I slipped through the gate, trailing sand behind me, and smiled at the last remaining fireflies that flew near the bird bath at the edge of the fence line. The cottage was old, built back when Craftsmen were cheap and everyone got a GI loan to purchase their first home. It had survived Katrina, though just barely, and needed a new roof, mending on the back fence and the chippy yellow paint needed a fresh coat. The crow I ate to cash Bane’s check was bitter, got stuck between my teeth, but I’d gobbled it down just to get this place and out of my father’s debt. I needed to start again, be away from the Cove, from the past and the sins that wouldn’t let me rest at night.

              That’s what I told myself—that this cottage would allow me to begin a new life. I'd douse myself in a lot of elbow grease and DIY sweat equity, and eventually I’d leave the Cove behind me. Someday I might actually believe it.

              It was my mantra—that this cottage would be a new beginning—and I repeated it to myself as stepped up onto the porch, as I opened the screen door and as I put my key into the lock. “A new beginning…” and then, shifting my gaze to the movement at my right, that mantra got replaced with a loud, shrieking curse. “Mother fuc…”

              “Jani! Wait! It’s me,” Bane said, throwing up a shield with his hands as my hex ripped right over his head.

              “Are you crazy?” I screamed, slamming the screen door, my gaze flitting out onto the empty beach and down the sidewalk. “I could have…” he stepped into the light and I went mute. Just seeing his face, the dark circles under his eyes, still with those beautiful blue irises, silenced me stupid. “What…what are you doing here?” I said, stepping back when he moved forward.

              “I came to see you.”

              “Why?” I asked, not thinking.

Bane seemed not to expect that. He scratched his chin and lowered his shoulders, a defeated, tired movement. “Can I…can we go inside?”

I didn’t think about how that might look. It didn’t occur to me that if we were in the Cove and Bane, a newly married man, came into my home with no one else to chaperone, that there would be gossip and lots of it. But this wasn’t the Cove and I didn’t care who talked. Hell, I didn't care if anyone was watching, period. At the moment the only thing I did care about was asking why he looked so tired and how the hell he knew where I’d be.

“Excuse the mess,” I told him, stepping around half empty paint cans and tarps smudged with gray and white paint. “I’m renovating,” I explained leading him inside.

I’d spent a majority of the past week sanding and cleaning, and had finally moved on to painting. I’d tackled the monstrosity of harvest gold in the kitchen and dining room and had started in on the boring beige walls of the den this morning. Bane followed me, his gaze moving around the room, squinting at the rubbish rags and dried paint brushes.

“You’re doing this by hand?” I nodded, turning toward him by the large bay window at the front of the living room. “With no magic?” He frowned when I lifted my eyebrows, when instead of answering, I crossed my arms. “But that will take you ages.” I narrowed my eyes and he shook his head. “Why are you doing it the hard way?”

“Because it gives me time to think.”

Bane nodded, once again looking around the room, idly scratching his chin as though he needed some mild distraction to help him think. “Well, if that’s how you want to do it, I can respect that.” He pointed toward the hallway. “How many bedrooms?”

“Two down here, two upstairs.”

Bane nodded again, stepping away from me. “You’ll need to go into town so we can fetch some trim to replace the rotten wood along the corner of the front porch and fencing material as well. I did some rebuilding in New Orleans after the storm. I know my way around a hammer and nails.” He stepped toward the window, moving his head to get a better look at the garden. “There isn’t a thing I know about weeds or planting but I trained with a Scottish wizard five years back and he taught me fey magic for growing vegetables. Can’t be that different to making your roses climb.”

“Bane.”

He kept watching the garden, along the back fence, mumbling to himself as he looked out onto the property. “If you want to do it without magic, it’ll take more time, of course and you might not be ready to open by spring…”

“Bane.” He stepped back when I touched his arm, as though that slight graze of my fingers along his bicep burned him. “What are you talking about?”

“Helping you.”

For a second I couldn’t read the expression on his face, the way he lifted his eyebrows, how his mouth tightened and the muscles around it thinned out his bottom lip. Then Bane licked his lips, looking down at my hands before he looped my pinky with his. “I want to help you, as much as I can. I want…” he dropped my pinky to thread our fingers together, “I want to see if this melding, if you and me, if there’s something there.”

“I’m sorry?” A small wrinkle worked between his eyebrows when I released his hand and took a step back. “That’s not going to happen.”

I’d seen Bane Iles angry. I’d seen him turned on, amused, utterly livid. I had never seen him completely stunned, incapable of forming words. He was just then, watching me, frown set, mouth tight. “Is it…are you laughing at me?” He tilted his head, his eyebrows set so stiff now wrinkles formed on his forehead. “You’re…you’re mocking me?”

“I would never,” I swore, lifting my chin.

“But…you don’t want…”

He couldn’t be serious, despite that expression, despite his shock, there was no way Bane could actually expect me to take him in. Not after those bells I heard. “I would never want another woman’s husband. No matter who he is.”

His mouth moved, opening, closing as though something unspeakable, shocking past from his mind but couldn’t quite make past his lips.

“Husband?” I nodded, stepping back when he moved forward. “Whose husband?”

“Um, Caridee’s?”

“Who told you I got married?”

He ignored the glare I gave him and the quick slap of my hand against his arm when he reached for me. “Was I not supposed to know?”

“Janiver Benoit, please shut it.”

“I will not, don’t you dare…” But he was already kissing me, taking, keeping my resisting fists from his shoulders as I swung at him until I was against the wall and Bane’s low whispered hex made my mouth stiff and motionless.

“Cut those eyes at me all you like, little witch. I don’t care.” He laughed when I glared at him, barely containing his amusement when a growl vibrated in my throat. “Hush now,” he said, moving my face up just inches from his mouth. “I am no one’s husband.” Another glare, this one I was certain full of doubt and Bane’s smile widened. “On my father’s grave, I’m not married.” He leaned close, moving his fingers over my face. “Trevor married Caridee. He’s the coven’s leader now.” When I only blinked at him, eyes round, looking amazed, I was sure, Bane released the hex from my mouth. “It’s your fault, you know? All of this.”

“Mine? Why me?”

Bane sighed, holding my face still. “Because you’re the only one I know that would point out how beautiful the sky is in the middle of a hurricane.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” I told him, moving my head away when he tried to kiss me.

But he would not be rebuffed, would not be delayed for very long, that much I could tell with how vigorously he held me, how those bright eyes moved over my face like he couldn’t get enough of the sight of me.

“My whole life, someone told me what was expected of me. I had to marry a Rivers. I had to lead the coven. I had to protect our folk from the curious mortals and the shit they do to the world. All those expectations, Jani, and I thought you were the only one who didn’t level any at me. But then…” I couldn’t look at him, not even when he stood in front of me, challenging me with one of those stares, calling me a coward without uttering a word. Then, my gaze went up and I met his, chin a little higher. “But then,” he continued, “then you took away the only moment of my life where I didn’t have expectations, where all I had to do was touch and taste and take. What that did to me, gods above. Your mouth was pure freedom. Your touch set my skin on fire. All that hope and heat right between my fingers and then you ripped it away.”

“Bane, I’m sorry. I thought…” I looked down, still ashamed, before I exhaled. “I thought it was what you’d want.”

“Why in the name of all the gods would I want to forget something that made me feel so alive?”

He held me so tight, not letting me budge even the smallest degree. “And it still matters? After all this time?”

“It matters always, Jani. I don’t want expectations.”

“But your family…”

“Will have to learn what disappointment is. I don’t want a life with old wizards and witches comparing how many of their dead relatives were burned alive in Salem. I don’t want some life that doesn’t allow me to scream every once in a while.”

He was higher coven. He had money and power and strength I never would. We’d never fit into each other’s worlds. “You deserve a good mate. Someone…”

“I don’t want a good mate. I just want you.”

If I lived a thousand years, I’d never feel again what those four words meant to me. It was the first time I felt completely claimed. The first time I knew someone could want me, could say they did and truly mean it. We struggle and fight. We try to grab what small pieces of happiness we manage to glimpse in this life and sometimes, if we’re very, very lucky, some of those pieces land. Sometimes, they stick to us, become part of us.

Bane smiled at me, and I loved that expression, loved more the strong glint of the ley lines I sensed under his touch, the red energy that flirted against my skin.

“When you saw the memory, that day in the town square, Bane, I saw the look on your face. I…I never want to put that look on your face again.”

“You can’t make that promise, Jani. None of us can.” He moved the hair from my forehead, watching as the small strands fell into place as though he didn’t want to miss a detail about me, and right then I knew without any doubts that I loved Bane Iles. “I can’t promise that I won’t put the same look on your face one day.”

“So why would we bother if there’s a chance we’ll hurt each other?” Something shifted in Bane’s expression then, something real, something that had me forgetting what I’d asked. I only knew that I wanted to keep that smile on his face, that I’d kiss him again and again to make sure it never left his mouth.