A Feather of Stone #3 (12 page)

I wished she were really in love with him. If she were, if she had really moved on from Luc, then maybe—

“Hey.”

I started, not expecting to see Thais sitting on my bed. Had she felt Luc’s summoning spell too?

“Hey,” I said, putting down my purse and pushing off my shoes. I was glad I had kicked Luc. I should have done it harder. I released a tight breath, hoping I appeared somewhat normal. “Here for a pre-date fashion consultation?”

I scooped my hair up in both hands and secured it with a clip, trying to look bright and chipper, but Thais was watching me with a serious expression on my face. Our face. “What,” I said.

“So, whose energy do you want to subvert?”

In books they always talk about how “the blood drained out of her face” or whatever. But this time I
actually felt
the blood draining out of my face, leaving me cold and clammy. This was so far from what I’d been expecting that I suddenly needed to sit down in my desk chair. Oh goddess, I could be in such huge trouble.

“What do you mean?”

She gave me a “please” look. “I mean, why do you have that book hidden under your mattress? What are you doing with it?”

I looked at her, trying to decide the best course of action. Denying everything seemed to be out. All the scary, dismayed feelings from the night I’d worked the spell on the cats came back to me, and I really didn’t want to talk about it.

But.

This was my sister. Was it true, what Luc (the bastard) had said to me, that together Thais and I made up one whole? Was Thais everything about myself that I suppressed and vice versa?

“Well,” I began. Then it all crashed down on me at once: seeing Luc just now, practically having
sex
with Richard just
yesterday
, the spell with the cats . . . I felt tears well up in my eyes and blinked them back.

“Clio,” Thais said softly. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“You can’t tell Nan.” I felt totally bleak.

“Yeah, okay.”

Blinking back more tears, I looked at her. “It’s . . . important. This is between you and me.”

Thais smiled at me, and it was so weird—it was a really old,
wise
smile. For just a second she wasn’t Thais at all but someone different, someone much older. I blinked again and she looked just like herself. I must have imagined it.

“
Everything
is between you and me,” she said.

I nodded and let out a couple of breaths. “I bought that book,” I said, so low I could hardly hear it myself. “From the restricted area at Botanika.”

“Why?”

“I’m curious,” I said. “Daedalus was able to take our power at Récolte. I wanted to know how.” I opened my mouth to tell Thais about trying that spell and being so horrified at what I’d done to all the cats. What a relief, to blurt it out, to tell my twin everything. But it was like a train coming to a junction—I meant to take one path, but the tracks switched and suddenly I was on a different path.

“I thought if I knew how he’d done it, I could figure out a way to stop him from doing it to us again.” Perfectly true.

Thais frowned, looking out my window at the top of the mimosa tree in the front yard. Its leaves were just starting to turn yellow, and they shone under the reflection of the streetlight. Soon they would fall off. It was one of the few trees that changed with the seasons.

“Is this about Récolte or the other rite?”

“Both.”

“Are you learning how to become immortal? Is that it?”

“Well . . .” I hesitated. I had to convince her. But something told me if I blurted it all out now, she would be turned off and wouldn’t go for it. “Not really. More about how to control power once you have it. So no matter what happens with this rite or any rite, no one can use us like that again. I want to make sure you and I are safe from whatever these freaks try to do next.”

“So have you learned anything? Have you tried any of the spells?”

“No.” I shook my head, feeling so tired. I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose. “I mean, yes, I’m sort of learning stuff, but no, I haven’t tried any of the spells.”

“Are you learning how Daedalus got our power at Récolte?”

“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “Sometimes I just don’t understand it—it doesn’t make sense. I can’t see how something would work. But I just got the book a few days ago, and I haven’t been able to spend a lot of time on it. I just wanted to, you know, learn about it.”

Thais nodded, then glanced at the watch on her wrist. “I want to talk about this more,” she said. “But I have to get ready—going to a movie with Kevin. Listen, tomorrow or some time when we’re both free, let’s go over everything together, okay? Maybe it’ll seem clearer if we just hash it all out.”

“Yeah, that would be good.” What else could I say? “Are you going to wear that?” I asked, just as her mouth opened.

She glanced down. “No. I’m going to put on a sundress. With a sweater, in case the movie’s cold.”

“Do you have a cute sundress?” I asked, raising one eyebrow skeptically.

“Yes.” Her chin lifted a fraction.

“No, I mean a
cute
sundress.”

Sighing, Thais stood up and opened my closet doors.

 

There was nothing good on TV, as usual. It was unbelievable to me that popular Clio was home alone on a Saturday night while wallflower Thais had a date with a really cute guy. The more I moped around the house, the more I felt myself weaken about Luc. I could call him. I could see him. Thais wouldn’t have to find out.

It felt horrible.

Time to go to Racey’s. Luckily, she didn’t have a date either. How the mighty had fallen. But Della and Kris and a couple of others would be there, and we were going to eat junk food and listen to music and do something girly, like paint our toenails. It would be distracting, which was what I needed.

“Okay, later, Nan,” I said, popping my head into the kitchen.

“You’re going to Racey’s?” she asked, marking her place in her book.

“Uh-huh.”

“Be careful,” she said. “Don’t be too late, okay? You have your phone?”

“Okay, okay, and yes.” I grabbed an apple from the bowl on the kitchen table and took a big bite. Nan smiled at me, and I smiled back as I grabbed the car keys, then quickly looked away. It was still hard sometimes, being alone with her and acting like things were fine, normal, when they weren’t and I didn’t know if they ever could be again between us. She’d lied to me for seventeen years. She’d had her reasons, yeah, but those reasons had kept me from ever meeting my own father.

I took a deep breath as I walked outside, forcing it out of my head. It hurt so much, but there wasn’t anything I could do to change it. I had to focus on the things I could control.

The Camry was right outside. I cranked the windows open to get the heat out. When would it cool off? November? December? Ugh. I took another bite of apple and left it in my mouth as I pulled away from the curb. Good thing Luc couldn’t see me now—no makeup, hair in a sloppy clip, and the crowning touch, an apple stuck in my mouth. Lovely.

What was Luc doing? Was he just yanking my chain? I thought so, but then, he seemed so serious, so sincere.
Right,
I thought sarcastically.
And his sincerity means so much.

And then Richard. What was I doing
there
? Why did he have that effect on me? I couldn’t stand him—but every time I saw him, I wanted to knock him down and rip off his shirt.

At St. Charles Avenue, I took a right, and the steering wheel grabbed a little bit, almost locking up. Surprised, I yanked it hard and made the turn. Should I pull over? Was something wrong?

I glanced down at the dashboard and felt my breath sucked right out of me. The temperature gauge was as high as it could go, and I’d only gone about eight blocks!

I looked around the street, searching frantically for somewhere to pull over, but there were parked cars everywhere. Adrenaline flooded my veins as I scanned for someplace to stop. Suddenly actual flames and smoke erupted from beneath the car’s hood, and cars started blaring their horns at me. At the very next corner I wrenched the steering wheel as hard as I could, making a wide and clumsy turn off St. Charles. As soon as I was close to the curb, I jerked the keys out, grabbed my purse, and jumped out of the car.

My hands shook as I fumbled for my cell phone to call for help, running across the street.

A loud
whoosh
noise erupted behind me and I turned and stared as flames completely engulfed my car. This was impossible. I’d had the Camry serviced three weeks ago, and they’d checked everything.

Numbly I started to dial 911, then heard sirens already screaming closer. I remembered that the car had a frigging
gas tank
and rushed away, running halfway down the block. The first fire engine wheeled around the corner as tears started streaking down my cheeks. My car. How had this happened? Had I fried the radiator?

Or.

Was this an attack? I still thought the snake might have been—it had seemed to resist our magick. Maybe this was a follow-up.

Thirty yards away, the firefighters connected a hose to a hydrant and flooded my car. I started weeping in earnest, like a total crybaby. Clouds of white steam and black smoke billowed into the night sky, obliterating stars. A small crowd had already gathered, and now a firefighter was striding toward me.

“Miss? Is that your car?”

I nodded, wiping my eyes and getting to my feet. “I don’t know what happened,” I said, trying to pull myself together. “I was driving, and then the steering wheel felt funny, and then I noticed that the temp gauge was way high, and then boom, the whole car was in flames.” More tears rolled down my cheeks, and I wiped them off with my sleeve.

“Had you filled the radiator recently?”

I nodded. “Just three weeks ago. And I’d only gone eight blocks! How could it overheat so fast?”

The firefighter shook his head. “I don’t know, miss. Your insurance company will check it out. A tow truck is on its way to take it to a car shop—but you know it’s totaled.”

“Uh-huh,” I said brokenly, leaking more tears.

“Do you have someone to call?”

“My . . . grandmother.” When Nan got here, maybe she would be able to tell if someone had tampered with the car.

It was now official: every single aspect of my life was dark, negative. I didn’t feel good or happy about
anything
, not like I used to. It was like I wasn’t even me anymore.

Two Black Sheep

The Napoleon House was packed, since it was Saturday. Frowning, Luc pushed through the crowd and debated whether it was worth it to wait for a table or even a spot at the bar. The smell of warm muffalettas reached his nose. Maybe he should wait.

“Luc!”

Luc turned to see Richard and Claire sharing a table at the edge of the courtyard. Richard raised a tall glass of beer at him, and Luc walked over.

“Hello, tall, dark, and immortal,” Claire said, grinning. She took a gulp of a frozen piña colada and waved him to a seat. “Sit down. You hungry?”

“Yeah.” Luc caught the eye of a waiter and ordered a scotch straight up and half a muffaletta. “So, what are you two up to tonight?”

“Drinkin’. Eatin’,” said Claire. “You?”

Luc shrugged.
Putting a spell on Clio
would probably make them laugh, but he didn’t want it getting around.

“So give me your take on the old crackpot’s scheme,” Claire said. She finished her drink and ordered another when the waiter brought Luc’s food.

Again Luc shrugged. “The problem is, he’s not a total crackpot. He wants power, and he knows how to get it. He’s willing to run us all down doing it.”

Claire nodded, mulling it over, and Luc saw the shrewd intelligence in her eyes. It was so easy to forget how smart she was, how sharp. “How many of us are on board with the rite?”

“Axelle, Jules,” said Richard. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke upward. “Me, Manon. Possibly Ouida. Possibly Petra. Possibly Sophie.”

Claire looked at Luc.
“Et tu?”

“On board,” he said, taking a bite of his enormous sandwich. Warm cheese, spicy salami, olive salad, Italian bread—it was damn near perfect.

“Interesting,” said Claire.

“What about you?” Richard asked.

“On board, I believe,” she said, sounding coy. “Trying to come up with a Christmas list.”

Richard laughed dryly. “Aren’t we all?”

“Tell me about these surprise twins of Petra’s.” Claire bummed one of Richard’s cigarettes and lit it, the smoke obscuring her face for a second.

There was silence, and Luc felt Richard’s dark eyes on him.

“They’re the latest in Cerise’s line,” he said slowly, pushing some olive salad back under the bread. “The thirteenth generation. Apparently Petra helped their mother have them, and when she saw it was twins, she took one and didn’t tell the father. So one grew up with the father, in Connecticut, and one of them grew up here, with Petra.”

“Petra wanted them apart,” Claire said. “Did she already suspect Daedalus of wanting a complete Treize?”

“Don’t know,” Luc said. “She just thought the two together wouldn’t be safe, for some reason. Then their dad died this summer.”

“We think Daedalus, and probably Jules and Axelle, killed him,” Richard put in matter-of-factly.

“Jules wouldn’t do that,” Claire said, somewhat sharply.

Richard raised his eyebrows. “Jules has followed Daedalus for years. And he might very well have plans of his own too. Together they wrangled it so Axelle got custody of the northern twin.”

“Thais,” Luc murmured, and felt Richard looking at him again.

Claire laughed. “Yeah, ’cause Axelle has always had maternal yearnings. That’s hysterical.”

Luc couldn’t help smiling, and so did Richard.

“Yeah,” Luc said. “So Axelle brought Thais here. Bizarrely, she and Clio ended up going to the same school, ran into each other, and figured everything out.”