Night World 1 (41 page)

“Rosamund…what are you
doing
here? Does Mom know you're out?”

Something like a miniature whirlwind entered the waiting room. It was a kid, a little girl with a mop of sandy hair sticking out from under a baseball cap. She was carrying a rolled-up blue blanket and what could be seen of her expression under the hair was ferocious.

“Mom said Madame Curie wasn't really sick, but she is. Call Dr. Joan.” With that the kid marched into the office and dumped the blue blanket on the counter, pushing aside a clipboard and some vaccination reminder cards.

“Hey. Don't.” When she ignored him, Eric looked at Thea. “Uh, this is my sister Rosamund. And I don't know how she got here—”

“I rode my bike and I want Madame Curie fixed
now.
”

Bud was rearing up and trying to sniff the blue blanket. Thea pushed him down gently. “Who's Madame Curie?”

“Madame Curie is a guinea pig,” Eric said. He touched the blanket. “Roz—Dr. Joan is gone. She's out of town at a conference.”

Rosamund's ferocious expression never wavered, but her chin began to quiver.

“Okay, listen. I'll take a look at Madame Curie now, see if I can see anything. But first we have to call Mom and let her know you're alive.” He reached for the phone.

“I'll take Bud back,” Thea said. “I think he thinks Madame Curie is lunch.” She led the puppy into the back room and coaxed him into the run with a promise of extra petting later.

When she came back to the office, Eric was bent over a small brown-and-white guinea pig. He looked frustrated.

“Well, there's
something
wrong with her—I guess. She seems weaker than usual and sort of lethargic….” Suddenly he jerked his hand back with a yelp.

“Not
too
lethargic,” he said, eyeing the blood welling up from his thumb. He wiped it on a tissue and bent over the guinea pig again.

“She's in a bad mood,” Rosamund said. “And she's not eating right. I told you yesterday she was sick.”

“No, you didn't,” Eric said calmly. “You told me she was tired of living under patriarchy.”

“Well, she
is
tired.
And
she's sick.
Do
something.”

“Kid, I don't know what to do yet. Hang on.” He bent closer to the little animal, muttering to himself. “She's not coughing…so it's not strep. Her lymph nodes are okay…but her joints seem swollen. Now, that's weird.”

Rosamund was watching him, her green eyes full of fierce trust. Eyes like Eric's, Thea realized.

She reached out gently and just touched the guinea pig's soft fur with her fingers. Her mind reached gently, too.

Frightened-little-animal thoughts. The guinea pig didn't like being here, wanted the sawdust of her cage, wanted safety. She didn't like the clinical smells, didn't like huge, strange fingers descending from the sky.

Home-place, nest-place,
she was thinking. And then, something odd. A concept—more smell and taste than picture. Madame Curie was imagining eating something…something crunchy and slightly sharp. Eating and eating and eating.

“Is there some treat she really likes?” Thea asked doubtfully. “Something like cabbage?”

Eric blinked, then straightened up as if he'd gotten an electric shock. His green eyes stared straight into hers. “That's it! You're brilliant!”

“What's it?”

“What you said. She's got
scurvy
!” He dashed out of the office and came back with a thick book full of small print. “Yeah—here it is. Anorexia, lethargy, enlarged limb joints…she's got all the symptoms.” He turned pages feverishly and then said triumphantly, “All we have to do is give her some of those veggies, or maybe some ascorbic acid in her water.”

Scurvy—wasn't that a disease sailors used to get? When they were on long trips with no fresh fruits or vegetables? And ascorbic acid was…“Vitamin C!”

“Yeah! It's been hot and we've got hard water at our house—all that could deplete the vitamin C in her diet. But it's easy to fix.” Then Eric looked at Thea and shook his head wonderingly. “I've been studying for years, besides working here, and you just
look
at the animal and you know. How do you
do
that?”

“She asked Madame Curie,” Rosamund said flatly.

Thea gave her a wary glance. How come this whole family was so observant? “Ha ha,” she said, her voice light.

“I like you,” Rosamund said, just as flatly as before. “Now where can I get some cabbage?”

“Go look in the vaccine fridge in back,” Eric said. “If there isn't any, we can always use vitamin drops.”

Rosamund trotted off. Eric watched her, openly fond.

“She's an interesting kid,” Thea said.

“She's sort of a genius. Also the world's smallest militant feminist. She's suing the local Boy Trekkers, you know. They won't let her in, and the Girl Trekkers don't trek. They do macramé.”

Thea looked at him. “And what do you think of that?”

“Me? I drive her to the lawyer's office whenever Mom can't make it. I figure it stops her griping. Besides, she's right.”

Simple as that, Thea thought. She watched Eric as he folded the blue blanket, and heard a voice in her mind like the voice of an announcer describing a game-show prize.

Now. Look at this guy. He's tender but intense. Brave. Profoundly insightful. Shy but with a wicked sense of humor. He's smart, he's honest, he's an animal lover….

He's human.

I don't care.

She was feeling—well, strange. As if she'd been breathing too much yemonja root. The air seemed sweet and heavy and
tingly
somehow, as if laced with tropical electricity.

“Eric…”

And she found herself touching the back of his hand.

He let go of the blanket instantly and turned his hand to close on hers. He wasn't looking at her, though. He was still staring at the office desk. His chest heaved.

“Eric?”

“Sometimes I think if I blink, you'll disappear.”

Oh, Eileithyia, Thea thought. Oh, Aphrodite. I'm in terrible trouble.

The thing was, it was terrible and wonderful. She felt awkward and tremendously safe at once, scared to death and not scared of anything. And what she wanted was so simple. If he only felt the same, everything would be all right.

“I just can't even imagine life without you anymore, but I'm so afraid you'll go away,” Eric said, still looking fatalistically at the computer on the desk. Then he turned to her. “Are you mad?”

Thea shook her head. Her heart was threatening to leave her body. When she met his eyes it was as if some circuit had closed. They were connected, now, and being pulled together as if Aphrodite herself was gathering them into her arms.

And then everything was warm and wonderful. Better than holding the puppy, because Eric could hold her, too. And the thrills of fear that had been shooting through her seemed somehow to burst like fireworks and turn into exhilaration.

Her cheek was against Eric's. And she'd never felt anything so blissful before. Eric's cheek was smooth and firm—and she was safe here, loved here. She could rest like this forever. Peace filled her like cool water. They were two birds enfolding each other with their wings.

Swans mate for life…and when they see their mate, they
know,
she thought. That's what happened in the desert. We knew each other; it was as if we each could see the other one's soul. Once you see into someone's soul, you're attached forever.

Yeah, and there's a word for it in the Night World, part of her mind said, trying to shatter her peace. The soulmate principle. You're trying to say that your one and only is a human?

But Thea couldn't be frightened, not now. She felt insulated from the Night World and the human world both. She and Eric formed their own reality; and it was enough just to stand here and
breathe
and to feel his breathing, without worrying about the future….

A door creaked and a blast of cool air blew in.

Thea's eyes were startled open. And then her heart gave a terrible lurch and started thudding painfully.

It wasn't the door that Rosamund had gone through. It was the front door, which Eric must have left unlocked. And Blaise was standing there in the waiting room.

“
I
've been looking
everywhere
for you,” Blaise said. “I had to call Mrs. Ross to find out you were here.”

Her black hair was wild and windblown, tumbling over her shoulders. She had taken off her red bow tie and unbuttoned the top button of her dress shirt. There was color in her cheeks and dark light in her gray eyes. She looked extremely beautiful and very, very witchy.

Thea and Eric had moved apart and Thea had the feeling they were both blushing.

“We were just…” Eric said. “Um. Heh.” While Blaise scrutinized him, he picked up the blue blanket and started refolding it. “Uh, can I show you around?”

“I don't care much for animals unless they've been shish-kebabed.” Blaise surveyed the room with one hand on her hip.

Oh, she's in a
terrific
mood.

Thea's palms were getting damp. She wasn't sure what Blaise thought of the embrace she'd walked in on…but Thea was
supposed
to be leading Eric on, wasn't she?

Her eye fell on the Kleenex daubed with Eric's blood. Unobtrusively, she reached for it and crumpled it in her hand.

“So you left the dance,” she said to Blaise. “Where's…” Who'd actually been Blaise's date tonight? Sergio? Kevin? Someone else?

“There is no dance,” Blaise said. “They shut it down. Leave it to Randy—he was always a royal pain.” Then her face changed; she blinked and put on a sweet smile. “And who are you, darling?”

In the doorway to the corridor, Rosamund backed up, Madame Curie clutched to her chest. She didn't say a word, but her hostile green eyes never left Blaise.

“Uh, sorry,” Eric said. “That's my sister. She's—shy.”

“So this is a family affair,” Blaise said. “How nice.”

Thea said, “I think it's time to be going home.” She needed to talk to Eric, but alone, not with a disgruntled munchkin and a suspicious witch looking on.

She glanced at Eric, feeling a little shy herself. He looked the same.

“Well—see you at school.”

“Yeah.” Suddenly he smiled. “You know, that's something else I was going to mention. If you're even thinking about going to Davis, you might want to get into honors zoology. It's a good class.”

“Um—we'll see.” She was aware of Blaise watching her.

But outside, all Blaise said was, “Sorry if I was rude. But I've been looking all over for you, so I could tell you what a great time I wasn't having. And”—she shook her midnight hair out with a charming smile—“it's so much
fun
to be a bitch when you want to be.”

Thea sighed, then stopped in her tracks. “Blaise, the car!”

Kevin's silver-gray Porsche looked as if it had been through a war. The front bumper was caved in, the passenger door was mangled, and the windshield was cracked.

“I had a little trouble,” Blaise said coolly. “It's all right, though; I met a guy tonight named Luke Price, who's got a Maserati.” She looked at Thea, then added, “You don't
disapprove,
do you? Of treating humans that way?”

“No—of course not. I just don't want to get expelled again.”

“It's not illegal to have an accident. Here, you have to get in through the driver's side now.”

She drove, not seeming to choose any particular direction. Thea sat quietly, acutely aware of the probing glances cast her way every so often.

“So,” Blaise said at last in her silkiest voice, “did you get
it
?”

“What?”

“Don't be funny.”

Thea held out her hand with the crumpled Kleenex on her palm. “I didn't fill the vial; that was ridiculous. But I used my ingenuity and got enough.”

“Hmm.” Blaise's tapering fingers, tipped with blood-red nails, closed delicately on the tissue. Startled, Thea snatched it back and the Kleenex tore. She ended up with only a corner.

“Hey—”

“What's the problem? I just want it for safekeeping,” Blaise said smoothly. “And so how did everything else go?”

“Fine,” Thea said. Her palms were getting damp, but she managed to keep her voice airy. “I think he's hooked,” she added, trying to imitate Blaise's most languid and arrogant tones.

“Oh, really?” They had ended up on the strip, which meant the car was now crawling through traffic. Neon highlighted the curious half-smile on Blaise's lips. “And what was that about Davis?”

“Nothing. It's where he's going to college, so of course he'd like me to be with him.”

“He's already thinking about the future. Well, that was fast work. Congratulations.”

Thea didn't like the way she said it. More than ever, she wanted to protect Eric from Blaise—but she wasn't sure how. It depended on how much Blaise suspected.

“You know, I think it's the pop that's the most fun,” Blaise went on reminiscently. “Human boys are all different—but in the end, they're all the same. And when they give in completely, you can almost hear it. There's a ‘pop.' Like a balloon breaking.”

Thea swallowed, staring at the huge golden lion in front of the MGM Grand Hotel. Its green eyes reminded her of Eric. “Really? Sounds interesting.”

“Oh, it is. And after the pop, they just kind of collapse, and everything they are, their whole
self,
just sort of pours out in this internal hemorrhage. And after that, of course, they're useless. Like a stag that's too old to mate. They're just—over.”

“How nice.”

“You know, I think Eric's ready for that pop. He's already in love with you; I could see that. I think it's time.”

Thea just sat. A vampire girl, wearing a dress with a black rose design, threaded her way through stopped traffic. Finally, Thea said, “Blaise…”

“What, is that a problem with you? Are you having difficulty with that? Are you a little soft on him, maybe? Are you a little
too
fond of him?”

“Blaise—”

“Are you in love with him?”

Shock waves went through Thea, and the last question seemed to vibrate in the air.

At last she whispered, “Don't be ridiculous.”

“And don't
you
try to fool me. Remember who you're talking to. I know that dopey look you get when you're mooning over some animal. I saw the way you were holding him.”

Thea felt desperate. It wasn't just Blaise she was afraid of here. Night World law couldn't be clearer about the penalty for loving a human.

Death. Not only for her, but for Eric, too.

There was only one thing Thea could do. She turned and looked at her cousin directly.

“All right, Blaise, you do know me. We've always been like sisters, and I know that however you act sometimes, you still love me—”

“Of course I do,” Blaise said impatiently, and Thea realized that was part of the problem. In the changing light of the Bally hotel's neon pillars, she could see that Blaise's eyes were wet. She was
frightened
for Thea—and angry at being frightened.

Thea grabbed her cousin's hand. “Then you have to listen to me.” It was a naked plea. “Blaise—when I first met Eric, something
happened.
I can't explain it—I can't even really describe it. But there was a connection. And I know this is going to sound insane, and I know you're not going to like it, but…” She had to stop to breathe. “Blaise, what if you found your soulmate, and they were something that everybody said you shouldn't love….”

She stopped again, this time because Blaise had frozen. For a moment they both just sat, and then, very slowly, Blaise withdrew her hand from Thea's.

“Found…your…soulmate?” she said.

Warmth pooled in Thea's eyes. She had never felt so alone. “I think so,” she whispered.

Blaise turned to face the windshield. Purple light shone on her black hair. “This is more serious than I thought.”

The tears overflowed. “But will you help me?”

Blaise tapped her slender fingers on the steering wheel a few times. Finally she said, “Of course I'll help you. I
have
to. We're like sisters—I would never abandon you when you're in trouble.”

Thea was so relieved she felt dizzy. Paradoxically, it made her cry more. “I've just been so scared…. Ever since it happened, I've been trying to figure things out.” She hiccupped. Blaise was looking at her again, smiling, gray eyes glittering oddly. “Blaise?”

“I'm going to help you,” Blaise said, still smiling, “by getting him myself. And then I'm going to kill him for putting my sister in danger.”

There was a moment when everything inside Thea seemed absolutely still—and the next instant it all exploded into chaos.

“Never,”
she said. “Do you hear me,
sister
?
Never.
”

Blaise stayed calm, driving. “I know you don't think it's best—now. But one day you'll thank me.”

“Blaise,
listen to me.
If you do anything to him—if you hurt him—it's me you're hurting.”

“You'll get over it.” In the rainbow light of the Riviera, Blaise looked like some ancient goddess of fate. “It's better to hurt a little now than to be executed later.”

Thea was so angry she was shaking. So angry that she made a mistake. If she'd kept on arguing the same points, she thought later, Blaise might eventually have started to listen. But she was furious and terrified and she blurted out, “Well, I don't think you
can
do it. I don't think you could take him from me if you tried.”

Blaise stared, as if caught for once at a loss for words. Then she threw back her head and laughed.

“Thea,” she said. “I can take
any
boy from
anybody.
Any time, any place, any way I want to. That's what I
do.
”

“Not this time. Eric loves me, and you can't change that. You can't take him.”

Blaise was wearing a secret smile. But she said only two words as she turned off the strip and onto darkened streets again.

“Watch me.”

Thea didn't sleep well. She kept seeing Randy Marik's face, and when she dreamed, it turned into Eric's face, blood-streaked and vacant-eyed.

She woke up to see sunshine streaming in the room.

It was a bedroom with a split personality. One side was fairly neat and decorated in pale blues and spring greens. The other side was messy and was decorated in
the
color, the primal color, the one that roused emotions, that meant passion and hatred both. Red.

And usually Blaise was lying on that side underneath her red velvet Ralph Lauren bedspread, but this morning she was gone already. A bad omen. Blaise only got up early for a reason.

Thea got dressed and went downstairs warily.

The shop was empty except for Tobias sitting gloomily in his usual place beside the cash register. He grunted when Thea said hello and went on staring at the wall, one hand clutching his curly brown hair. Wishing, undoubtedly, to be outside on the weekend like other nineteen-year-old guys.

Thea went into the workshop.

Blaise was sitting at the long table, wearing earphones and humming to herself. A project was spread in front of her.

Thea stalked up close.

She could see right away that it was beautiful. Blaise was a genius at creating jewelry, most of it based on ancient designs. She made necklaces of bees and butterflies, spiraling flowers, serpents, leaping dolphins. It was all alive, all joyous…all magical.

That was where the real genius came in. Blaise put each element of the piece together with a purpose in mind. The gems were chosen to enhance each other: ruby for desire, black opal for obsession, topaz for yearning, garnet for heat. And asteria, the smoke-gray form of sapphire with a six-pointed star. Blaise's stone, just the color of her eyes.

Blaise had them all laid out loose. But her magic wasn't just in the gems. Interwoven into every piece were herb caches, tiny compartments that could be filled with potions or powders. She could literally
drench
the jewelry in sorcery.

Even the design itself could be a spell. Every line, every curve, every flower stem could have a meaning, could make the eye follow a pattern that was as powerful as any symbol traced on the floor in chalk. Just looking at the piece could be enough to charm you.

Right now Blaise was working on a necklace to knock you dead.