Eternally Yours (20 page)

Several of my brain cells were still functioning, and I murmured, “I’m not a good person. I feel like I’m tricking them when they think I am.” His hand slid under my sweatshirt and started to tug my undershirt out from my waistband. Reyn pressed his mouth against my temple, my brow, his lips moving sweetly against my skin.

“How about if we just think you’re a person doing some good things?”

I couldn’t focus. One of my hands was trapped, but the other one was already gliding over the smooth skin of his back, a sheet of heavy silk stretched over taut muscles.

“What?”

I felt him smile against my forehead, and he moved down a couple inches and kissed my mouth, causing my arm to curl around him and pull him closer to me.

“I’ll tell you later.” And then we were all wrapped up in each other, kissing and kissing so deeply, the way we did, as if we’d been starved of kisses for four hundred years and could now have our fill.

O
kay, everyone all together now: What happens when things start going right?

The shit hits the fan. You are correct, sir.

Bad dreams I couldn’t remember woke me in the deepest part of the night. I had no idea what they were about, but my heart was pounding and my breathing shallow with some unnamed dread. I lay awake until dawn.

Finally, a good hour before I had any hopes of breakfast being ready, I got up, pulled on some cords, a turtleneck, a thin scarf (of course), and a sweater, and went downstairs to check the chore chart. I was on eggs. But the devil-chicken
was in the barn, so I wouldn’t have to deal with her. I picked up the wire basket in the kitchen and practically skipped outside—

Only to stop in confusion: A big, charred line, maybe two feet wide, circled the house, as far as I could see. Some kind of circle of protection, maybe, that River and the other teachers had done last night? Okay, only two feet wide and easy to cross, but one second pre-hop, I hesitated. Just to be sure, I went inside to ask; with my luck, the first person to cross it would totally screw things up, and a big purple cloud would follow me all day so everyone would know. Like I needed that.

River was just starting to set things out to make breakfast and looked up in surprise when I came in. “You’re up awfully early.”

“Couldn’t sleep. Hey, is that big circle okay to go over? Should I just jump?”

She blinked. “What big circle?”

“Uh… the one outside that goes all around the house? Seems jumpable, but I didn’t want to mess it up.” Responsible Nastasya.

River quickly wiped her hands on a dishcloth. “Show me.”

Turns out, big charred circle all around your house? Not a good thing. Not someone writing
I heart you
on the front lawn with bleach. There was a big brouhaha; much consultation; some pained looks given to yours truly by very old Italian men; general consternation. River and Asher decided
to have the four teachers disperse it, purify the ground beneath it, and then rake hay over the charred earth.

Between you and me, it made my knees quake. Despite the ongoing suspicion and disapproval from River’s brothers, everything had been quiet for weeks; I’d pretty much allowed myself to believe that with Incy safely put away at Louisette’s, maybe everything would just… be okay. But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

Later I was trying to decide whether to go to town—would it be better to, say, crawl under my bed and hope everything would just blow over? What if I stayed there for several days?

“Are you wondering about going to town?” River asked, coming upon me in the front hallway.

I scowled. “No. Of course I’m going to town.”

She didn’t smile. “Maybe you should stick close to home today.”

Naturally that made me grab my jacket and shove my arms into it. I’m nothing if not stubborn and impulsive.

“Nastasya—we don’t know who did this or if they’re still around or who their target is. It seems likely that the target is you. You, in town by yourself—”

“I’ll be surrounded by a bunch of burly guys,” I pointed out. “And burly gals.”

Anne came up then, pulling a red beret over her shiny, dark pageboy. “I thought I would go with you today, Nas. Want to see all the action close-up.”

I looked from her to River. “Like you couldn’t be more subtle.”

Anne grinned. “Nope. And I’m driving.”

Once downtown, we were both impressed by the bustling activity at my shops. There was now a Dumpster in the empty lot next door, and it was filling with debris. Even as we drove up, a pickup truck was disgorging five guys in jeans and work shirts.

We had to gently push through a small crowd of locals who were standing around, watching everything.

“Wow—this project has really ballooned,” Anne said as I opened the door of the shop on the end, the one that had my office in its front window.

“I’m paying more people every week,” I said.

Anne looked around the big space, empty except for sawhorses to hold large pieces of plywood or drywall. “This looks wonderful, Nastasya! Wow, this really takes me back—this store used to have a wonderful lunch counter. Is this the shop you haven’t rented yet?”

“Yeah.”

Workers walked by, greeting me by name. I saw a battered Toyota stop at the curb; a guy got out and tipped his hard hat at Anne and me. Then the other car door opened, and a woman got out holding a tin lunch box.

“Alan!”

The guy stopped, took his lunch, and kissed her with a shy smile. Up close I saw that the two of them couldn’t be
more than twenty-two or twenty-three. The woman gazed after him, her eyes shining. Then she focused on me.

“Are you the girl that’s doing this, like, for a school project?”

“Kind of,” I said.

“Well, it is just so cool,” the young woman said. “And man—I swear, the day I admitted we finally had to go on food stamps—that was the day Alan came home and said he had a job.”

“Ah,” I said, sensing my first twinges of alarm.

“It was like God’s hand, reaching down to help us up.”

Oh no. “Oh, good,” I said weakly, aware of Anne’s eyes on me.

“Well, bless you,” she said, heading for the door. “I’m going to remember you in my prayers, you can be sure of that.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

Then, mercifully, she was gone, and I let out a breath.

“It’s so hard,” Anne said, and I turned to her, grateful she knew how I felt. “Being Saint Nastasya.”

“Oh, jeezum,” I said, swatting her arm in disgust.

Laughing, she headed toward the back. “I’m going to check out the rest of the place.”

“Yes,
please
,” I said, irritated. “Please go and check things out.”

I could still hear her chuckling as I sat down at my little desk in the window.

The day before I had decided to buy the empty lot next door, the one that the Dumpster now sat on. It wasn’t very
big, but it was a real eyesore, with patches of broken concrete, three cement steps that led nowhere, weeds growing up through the cracks, and a bunch of trash that people had dumped. If I bought it, I could have my enormous workforce clear it out, rip up the concrete. Then I could make it into a little garden, kind of how River described, and people would at least have one nice freaking place to sit and not have to stare at their dying Main Street.

I got on the phone and called the number on the ancient
FOR SALE
sign that lay half buried in mud.

It was almost lunch before I had tracked down the right person, and by the time I hung up, I felt like my last nerve had just been squeezed by a python. A python with an aggressive sales quota to make.

Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples for a few minutes. Anne hadn’t returned, and I wondered where she’d gone.

When I finally sighed and opened my eyes, it was to see Joshua standing over me, holding a hammer.

My heart leaped into high gear, not in a fun way but in a “is this guy going to whack me in the head with a hammer?” way.

“Joshua,” I said evenly, refusing to show fear. Except that my eyes were probably about to pop out of my head. “What’s up?”

He raised his hammer slightly. “I’m here to work.”

“So… you know carpentry? Or something?”

“Yes.”

“My general contractor is a guy named Bill. He looks like the Marlboro Man in a hard hat. He can push you in the right direction.”

Joshua gave one brief nod, and I watched him head toward the back, where a lot of rebuilding was happening. He was tall, wide, and rangy, just like Reyn. I wondered how many times they’d faced each other on the battlefield. I wondered what the rest of his story was. He’d been in the memories that River had shown me, but he had been so different then—I barely recognized him. Well, a lot can happen in a thousand years. It was funny that bright, vivacious Brynne, with her striking, teen-model beauty, would be attracted to him.

Lunch that day was curried-chicken wraps with lime-peanut-cilantro sauce, which of course César couldn’t have because of the peanuts. That’s all I needed, another hospital bill. Alan traded him his lunch.

“This is terrific,” Anne said, taking another bite. She and I were eating at my “desk.” “You got these from Pitson’s?”

I nodded. “We’re at the mercy of thwarted-chef Julie Pitson. Pass the sauce, willya?”

Something made me glance up, and I saw a man standing at the window, looking in. When he came in he seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. You see a lot of faces in 450 years.

“Yes?” I said, knowing he was about to ask for work.

“Why, Roberto!” Anne said, standing up and giving him a hug. “Nastasya! This is River’s brother Roberto!”

“Oh good,” I said. “You can never have too many.” I put my elbows on the table and held my forehead in my hands.

“We’ve been enjoying our visit with Ottavio, Daniel, and Joshua!” Anne said, perky as all get-out. I groaned quietly.

“Who’s Joshua?” Roberto asked.

“The one right below River.”

“Mi stai prendendo in giro!”

“She’s not kidding,” I said glumly. “And now we have the complete set. Excellent.”

“Come, Bertino,” said Anne. “I’ll give you a ride to the house. Nastasya—you’re doing something wonderful here. I’m proud of you.”

I managed a tight smile. After they left I sat for a moment, wondering if Roberto was an actor or a model or something. Surely I’d seen his face before. Well, he had the family resemblance to the others, I guessed. His hair was lighter, longer, and curlier than his brothers’, and his face looked younger and less troubled, but still, House of Genoa all the way.

Woo-hoo. Couldn’t wait for dinnertime.

And at dinnertime, I got that Roberto seemed to be the family favorite: Even Joshua’s and Ottavio’s faces softened when they looked at him.

“I was in town, before,” Joshua said. “You didn’t come find me?”

“No one mentioned you were there,” Roberto said, looking at Anne.

She blushed. “I was so surprised to see you, I forgot.”

At the head of the table, River was beaming, looking around as if all her favorite people were here. Since no one had seen Joshua in at least fifteen years, it must have been the first time all of them had been together in ages.

“My brothers,” she said, warmth in her voice, her face glowing. “We are together.” She reached out and took Ottavio’s hand on her right, Daniel’s hand on her left.

Good thing you didn’t kill them all, I thought as I helped myself to some pork tenderloin.

“And Joshua—you were downtown, helping at Nastasya’s shops?”

Across the table, Reyn’s head jerked up, the motion making Joshua turn sharply. Seeing it was just Reyn, he dismissed it and poured himself more wine. (Thank the goddess for Wine Wednesdays.)

“Yes.”

“What were you doing at the shops?” Brynne looked avidly interested, and I wondered if she was reviewing her own carpentry skills so she could come help, too. Right. By. His. Side.

Joshua looked surprised at her question (meaning he blinked once) but answered. “Helped frame out some rooms in the apartments.”

“It’s good to be with my family,” said Roberto, “but I’m afraid I’m not here just to visit.”

No,
of course not
.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now,” he went on.

“What news?” River asked, pausing in the middle of dishing up some mashed potatoes.

Her youngest brother looked sober. “The house in Australia has been attacked. Three of the family are dead.”

Everyone fell silent.

Okay, I had been
right here
. No one could pin this on me.

“Oh no,” Rachel murmured.

“That’s not all,” said Roberto. “The house in Brazil has also been attacked. Fernanda barely escaped. Someone is targeting immortals—the immortals of the main houses.”

Heads swiveled toward me as if pulled by one string.

This was awful news. I took a bite of pork, my mind trying to put pieces together. “Did they say that someone had tried to steal their power?”

Roberto shook his head. “It sounds like it was just an attack. Brett, in Australia, is sure that no one took his sisters’ or his father’s power when they died. He inherited it all.”

“But we don’t suspect Brett?” I asked. None of this was making sense.

“No, of course not,” Ottavio said, but I didn’t know why it was of course not.

This was all weird. Incy had known where I was; the assumption was that someone had told him. The so-called master? Or whoever Miss Edna was? It was all so convoluted, and I couldn’t see the big picture.

When I looked up again, Roberto’s gaze was fixed on me, his head tilted to one side as if he was pondering something. Then his eyes flared suddenly, his eyebrows rose slightly, and he looked away, suppressing a grin. He cleared his throat and drank from his wineglass, not looking at me again.

And then… the angle of his head, the way he was tilting his wineglass… oh my God. Oh, jeez. I realized why he looked familiar. Oh my God, how embarrassing. He’d obviously just remembered, too. Crap. Well, the sixties have a lot to answer for. Jeezum.

The rest of the meal was subdued except for the slight entertainment of watching Brynne watch Joshua and then looking up to see Reyn’s eyes smoldering at me because, I guessed, I had broken the “don’t let my sworn enemy frame rooms in your shop” clause. I blew it off—I didn’t have time for weird alpha-wolf crap. As for Roberto, the less I looked at him, the better.