Secrets and Shadows (25 page)

“Precisely. I have asked even more of Pietr.”

“
He
is why she is here.”

I flipped. “Look. I want to know why you’re both talking over my head—and behind my back.” I spun to face them, gripping the back of the chair. “Let’s get a couple things straight. I am not here because of Pietr. Not anymore. It may have started that way, but that’s obviously not what he wants. And what I want…” My throat tightened. “I’m here to help your family if I can. Say what you have to say.”

Cat kissed my forehead. “You know everything you need to. There is nothing
to
say.”

I blinked.

Max looked toward the stairs.

“Come,” Cat said, gently taking my hand, “let me get you some crackers. You rest while we decorate.

Food poisoning can be ruinous.”

Although I protested, Cat fil ed a plate for me with crackers, poured some ginger ale, and sat me on her bed. I flailed a moment, sinking into a giant marshmal ow of pink and lace. “Eat, drink, and get some rest.

Everything looks better after a nap.”

“Real y, Cat, I’m fine.”

She smiled at me. “I know, Jessie. I just want you to have a terrific time at your party, and since Derek won’t be attending…”

“Wait. What?” One of the reasons Dad had been okay with me attending a party at the Rusakovas’

house was because Derek would be my escort. Not Pietr.

She studied my expression, squinting to peer into my eyes as if I reflected back the sun. “A boy who would dump you on the first friend of yours with a car—when he knows you are sick…” She shook her head. “Such moments tel you much about the man he wil become. Derek is not growing into a man you should be with.” She pul ed the door shut after her.

I stared at the door for a long while before gnawing through the saltines and sipping some soda. Final y I relented; burrowing into Cat’s ridiculously soft bedding, I closed my eyes.

When I woke and fought my way free of the frothy pink bed and stumbled out of Cat’s room, things had been transformed. Fake webbing hung from al corners, orange, purple, and red lights sparkled downstairs, giving the place a creepy glow as fog crawled around the base of the staircase. From somewhere far from sight came the feedback and static of a sound system being checked.

Wow.

“You’re awake!” Cat exclaimed. “How do you feel?”

“Great. This is—
amazing
, Cat.”

“
Horashow
. The guests wil be here soon,” Cat said, “We’d better get dressed. You”—she looked at me—“need a shower.” She marched me into the bathroom.

Turning the faucet on over the big claw-foot tub (was I the only one without claws around here?) I heard her outside the door again. “
Da
. I know she smel s like him.”

Pietr. Grumbling.

Then Cat: “You wil need to make a decision, brother. Before it is too late. You have already pushed her too near the edge. Tel her the truth.”

The idea Pietr was lying was laughable. Pietr simply didn’t want me. Stil , hope clutched at my faltering heart at the idea Pietr lied. How twisted that I hoped for
that
?

With Pietr choosing Sarah, and Max and Cat determined to keep me away from my selfish, evidently bad-lunch-buying boyfriend, the party in my name seemed one I’d attend alone.

Happy frikkin’ birthday to me.

I stepped into the tub, pul ed the curtain around and, not wanting to hear more, let the shower rain down over me.

“Beautiful!” Cat exclaimed, seeing me in my costume. “Buttercup the day of her wedding.”

I winced at her assessment and mumbled, “Buttercup the day of her
rescue
.”

Cat nodded, stroked the sleeve of the soft blue fabric, and adjusted the neckline of the dress’s shift slightly. “Just in time to greet the guests with Max.” She reached up to my hair and moved the fake pearl crown the tiniest bit. “Perfect,” she announced. “One more thing. Your present.”

“What?”

“This is your birthday party. You have gifts.”

“The
party
is my gift, Cat,” I protested.

“It is the gift from al of us,
da
. But…” She looked down the hal . “Pietr!”

He stepped out of his room, slowly, and the breath stuck in my throat. In black jeans, engineer boots, a dramatic black poet’s shirt, and with a black bandanna around his head, Pietr was enough to make a pirate blush. My Man in Black. No, I reminded myself sharply. Not mine at al .

He carried a large rectangular something, wrapped with a precision that demonstrated an eye for detail.

His eyes raised and he hesitated, seeing me. For a heartbeat I thought his chest stopped moving as his eyes went so fast from blue to red they appeared purple. “Your birthday present,” he whispered, blinking.

“Thank you.” I took it, my hand brushing his, sparks flying at such a simple touch. My stomach flopped, the electricity I stil felt at his nearness made my nerves scream and my chest ache where my heart had been.
Stupid heart. Stupid girl.
I slid my fingers beneath the tape, sliding a poster frame out. I turned it over. “Wow.”

In the simple black frame was an il ustration of a girl in traditional Russian garb creeping through a darkened forest. Il uminating her way was the eeriest of torches: topping a long stick, a skul ’s empty eye sockets glowed. “It is Bilibin’s work,” he said. “
Vassilissa in the Forest
. He was a renowned il ustrator of Russian fables and folktales, and Vassilissa—” He fel silent, staring at me.

“Is the heroine of our favorite,” Cat concluded.

My eyes glued to Pietr, I whispered my singular thought: “Amazing.”

“I wil put it somewhere safe,” Cat announced, wrenching it from my hands and leaving Pietr and myself standing at the top of the staircase alone. Together.

“Pietr…”

“I can’t do this,” he ground out, his eyes glimmering red once more. “This party … you…”

“Guests!” Max bel owed from the porch.

“You need to go. This is your party. I am”—he blew out a breath, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and snarling like he had one hel of a headache suddenly—“
not
ready to celebrate.” He backed toward his door.

I leaped, pressing my lips to his so fast his eyes jumped wide open, red as warning as his nostrils flared and he stumbled back. His fingers slid around my neck, tangling in my hair, and he dragged me with him, kissing like he’d devour me. “Ow!” I pul ed back, my tongue stinging, blood in my mouth.

His teeth pointed, he groaned and dodged into his room, slamming the door shut in my face. The lock slid across, grating like my nerves. I pressed my ear to his door. He was a solid inch of oak away from me. And panting.

What a way to start a party.

I clumped down the steps to stand beside Max, putting what I hoped passed for a happy expression on my face. He put his arm around me and together we greeted the guests pouring into the party. Music blared inside, shaking me as I stood on the porch.

At a break in the crowd streaming in, Max asked, “Pietr in his room?”

I nodded bleakly.

“Good for you,” he said.

“What aren’t you tel ing me?” I demanded, but Max’s eyes fixed on someone on the stairs.

Before I could push for an answer, Sarah had cal ed my name. She climbed the stairs and smiled at me sweetly.

“Wel ,” Max rumbled. “Isn’t this embarrassing? You’re both the same character.” Pietr’s movie rental had evidently educated the whole family. And Max was right. To my astonishment, a much daintier Buttercup faced me in the cool pink dress of the dream sequence, richly appointed with gold filigree.

Balanced atop her blond hair was a tal golden crown.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” I said. And I meant it. Compared to Sarah I was reduced to something far closer to Buttercup on the farm than Buttercup in the castle. Nuts. Sarah definitely reigned. “Pietr’s in his room being miserable,” I explained, pointing. “Maybe you can cheer him up.”

She brushed past me, lifting the hem of her dress slightly to get up the stairs without tripping.

Max moved his arm off my shoulders and looked down at me. “Maybe I’m stupid,” he began.

“Cat might agree some days.”

He blinked. “Don’t you want Pietr? You’re miserable and yet you push her toward him like they should be a couple.”

“She’s my friend. If she makes him happy,” I continued, “who am I to get in their way?” Max was shaking his head long before I finished. “I want Pietr happy. Maybe I’l find happiness somewhere else.”

As if on cue, the Mercedes pul ed up and Derek slid out of the back, light bouncing off his tight leather pants and black satin shirt. He was radiant as a dark angel. Something fluttered in my stomach at his approach and my palms grew damp.

Max’s arm slipped around my waist, pul ing me close, and the growl building in his bel y made mine tremble.

Derek hesitated, one foot on the top step, one on the porch. He flashed a smile at me, reaching in my direction.

Max shoved me behind him, one hot hand holding me like he feared I might bolt for the Mercedes.

“Back down,” he told Derek. “Jessie doesn’t want you here.”

“I don’t believe that,” Derek countered, stretching his hand forward again as he moved up one step.

“You need proof she doesn’t need you?” Max chal enged. Smooth as silk, Max spun me a step away from Derek, sighed as if resigning himself to some duty, and bent me back in his arms. His lips met mine, eyes commanding as he opened my mouth with his. My eyes flickered shut and he pressed me against his muscular body, curving me to match him. Dazed, I let him kiss me.
Expertly
. For one looong minute.

He released me and I stared at him, breathless.

There was clapping from inside. “So
that’s
what the birthday girl’s getting,” someone laughed.

Derek’s hand returned to his side and he glared at me. He didn’t dare glare at Max.

There was a noise from the doorway and Sarah jounced onto the porch, her eyes wide from Max’s display. “Present’s on the table,” she said with a little wave.

“Your presence is my present,” I assured her.

“Trust me, you’l prefer what’s in the box,” she grumped. “Pietr won’t come out, and you’ve got your hands ful ,” she mentioned, her eyes racing across Max. “Without Pietr, it’s not much of a party,” she added, disappointment flooding her face.

Derek held his hand out again, this time to Sarah. “Let’s you and I go somewhere and hang out. For old times’ sake.”

She took his hand and waved to me over her shoulder as she and Derek headed to the waiting Mercedes.

“What just happened, Max?”

“Worst-case scenario? I just pissed off a very dangerous guy by kissing you.”

I snorted. “Doubtful. Footbal player”—I nodded toward the retreating car—“werewolf,” I whispered, jabbing his ribs.

“Yeah. Seems that simple,” he agreed. “Best-case scenario? I just helped you break up with a total prick and got a decent kiss out of the deal.”

“Hmm.” I considered a moment. The idea of breaking up with Derek didn’t bother me nearly as much as losing time with Pietr did. “Max,” I said, looking up at him, “I love the Russian heritage you guys are so wil ing to share, but I’m not so thril ed with the French.”

“What?” His brows lowered. “We’re not French.”

“Great. So the next time you feel the need to kiss me, keep your tongue out of my mouth.”

He roared with laughter and pul ed me inside. “So where are your other friends?”

“Huh. I saw Sophia slip past, but—hey!”

Amy attacked me from behind, giving me a huge hug. “Happy, happy birthday!”

I grinned, hugging back and letting any last niggling doubts about inadvertently dumping Derek drain away.

“Great party, Max!” Amy congratulated.

Marvin hung back, watching their exchange.

“Anything for Jessie,” Max muttered, but his eyes were completely on Amy.

Amy dressed as …

“Little Red Riding Hood?” I gulped.
Uh-oh.

“The same.” She laughed, doing a little spin so her hood fel back, her short cape ruffled and her bril iant red hair whipped loose. A low-cut blouse did double duty, exposing the thinnest hint of both cleavage and midriff.

Max gaped. “You even have”—he stuttered—“a—an amazingly wel -packed basket of goodies.”

Ohhh …
I looked. Thank God. Amy was actual y carrying a basket. “I doubt your grandmother would let you out like that, Red,” I choked, grabbing her by the wrist and guiding her into another room.

Marvin fol owed, moping.

“And you, Marvin? You are?” I asked, glancing at the fake fur on his shoulders and the mask he held under one arm.

“The Big Bad Wolf,” he blustered.

I caught Max’s eyes and knew we both thought,
Hardly.

Into the basement we headed, Max picking up girls as we went. The music blasted, throbbing against me as the heat of the dancing crowd rose to greet us. Amy shoved me onto the dance floor, Marvin lagging behind. I quickly got separated from them in the crowd and only briefly glimpsed Cat and Sophia.

Max was always visible, though, and that was how he liked it. He danced, he pawed, he gyrated, and flirted, and the girls fawned al over him. Indecent and entertaining at the same time.

As the music slowed and I moved to the edge of the crowd, I caught a glimpse of Amy across the room.

Marvin was nowhere in sight; that was probably better because the way Amy watched Max run his hands up and down Stel a Martin, it wouldn’t have mattered if Marvin had been right in front of her. He’d have been invisible.

Starting across the floor to tel Amy to put her eyes back in her head, I saw him. Marvin. Watching Amy.

Watching Max.

Faster than I could find words to warn her, he caught her. The look of surprise—and fear—on Amy’s face made me scramble toward them. He was hauling her up the stairs. Away from the crowd. Alarm bel s rang in my head.