Speed of Light (6 page)

Late that night, tucked into the guest cottage behind the Helios Tea Room, Tens and I curled up together on the couch listening to his new favorite music. He said it reminded him of me. I lay on his lap, heart to heart. I measured my breaths to his. Inhaled with the rise of his chest and exhaled with the fall. Open windows welcomed the
cool breeze. Crickets filled the night air with fiddles and clicks. The occasional car putted by and owls told knock-knock jokes up in the trees.

I wrapped my fingers around Tens’s silky hair, tucked my head deeper beneath his chin, and kissed the pulse at the base of his throat.

He tightened his arms around my back, flexing. “Can’t sleep?” he asked me in a throaty rumble I felt everywhere.

I shook my head. “Did we do the right thing telling them about us?”

“Faye and Gus? I think so.” He smoothed my cotton tank top and tucked his fingers under the bottom hem, rubbing circles on my bare flesh. Goose bumps broke out along my arms. I held my breath, willing his hands to continue. We’d promised each other months ago we wouldn’t stop when we were both ready to make love. I was ready. He kept stopping.

I leaned up, my lips touching his, melting indulgently together. He tasted of minty forest shadows. I shifted my position on his lap. He lifted his head; his lips placed a soft comma on our kiss.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked when he frowned.

“Juliet is unraveling. She’s keeping secrets and spending too much time on her own.”

I nodded. “Where’s her Protector?”

“I don’t know. I think if she has one, he’d have shown up by now, right? Especially in March for her transition?”

That is the worry
. Sure, Fenestras through time made
do without Protectors. We didn’t always have a match. Charles and Auntie were a good case—he wasn’t a Protector but was simply a human who loved her and became her husband. They didn’t communicate telepathically and he didn’t know any of her feelings or experiences before they met. Auntie told us Tens and I were special. Us finding each other, sharing the destined bond we did—that was rare. Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted Juliet to have the same.

“Let’s practice again,” I demanded.
You will read my thoughts this time
.

“Again? I’m tired, if you’re not.”

“Please?” We’d started practicing telepathy. There were several journal entries that spoke of Fenestras and Protectors who managed to share thoughts and feelings. Since being together, Tens could only occasionally pick up on my feelings, and the random thoughts he grabbed were total coincidence. In his mind, all of my childhood seemed to have happened to him as simultaneously as reality.

I had to base my knowledge of him on the very human basics like words and body language. Even those I managed to muck up more often than not.

“Now, what am I thinking?” I asked.

He scrunched his eyes. “You’re picturing a pink hippopotamus doing pliés on top of a giant pumpkin pie.”

“Gee,” I giggled. “How’d you guess?”

“I’m good.”

“Full of it anyway.” I ran my hand along his ribs,
finding his Eureka tickle spot. He bucked at me as our laughter spilled out around us. He flipped me over and straddled me, trying to pin my hands above my head. The lead singer belted out an impossibly high note that made my ears ring.

Ignoring us, Custos lay on the double bed, chewing on a piece of old tire she’d drug in from somewhere nasty. She insisted on gnawing the thing near my pillow.

A pounding at the door could have been anything but had Custos leaping to her feet with a low growl. Tens reached for the stereo remote and clicked off the music. Eerie silence invaded spaces left by the fading notes.

I rolled to my feet. “It’s probably Juliet.” I opened the door and glanced around before Tens had a chance to push me aside, to protect me from nothing. He’d stuffed his feet hurriedly into his boots, but I’d stayed barefoot.

Custos threw out a nasty, rumbling growl and brushed past me to march outside. She laid her ears back, lifting her guard hairs like she’d stuck her paw in an electrical socket. Behind her, Tens stepped in front of me.

My heart accelerated; my mouth cottoned. I huffed a breath. “I can’t see anything. Probably Minerva messing with Custos’s mind.”
And mine
.

We’d been here since January. With each passing day, Tens became less a lanky young man and more a full-on muscled man. In another year, his body wouldn’t be the same as the boy I met. It was like his frame finally figured out he needed to be built like a bodyguard rather than
a swimmer on a restricted caloric intake. It didn’t hurt that he ran and worked out as if he were training for the Olympics.
Actually, it aches a lot
. He was under the impression I needed to join him. I wasn’t born an athlete and hated every minute of prepping. That was what he called it.
Prepping
.

He grunted in answer, his head on a full swivel. I half expected him to sniff the air.

“Tens?” I tried to shove him to the side, as my short stature made it nearly impossible to see around him. A piece of rope, or cable, on the doorsill caught my attention. I leaned down. “Tens!”

“Merry, be patient.” As he stepped farther out, his soles crunched on something.
What?

“You’re standing on something.” Quickly, I flipped on all the front lights.

“They broke Rumi’s Spirit Stones.” Colors of shattered glass littered the porch. Not a single orb we’d hung survived.

None of the pieces glowed, even as I picked them up. Their magic was gone. Some were slick with dark blood. “What’s that?” I pointed to a piece of rope where he stood.

Memories of Perimo’s followers flooded me. Perimo’s Believers trashed Auntie’s porch and left mutilated animals as warnings.

Tens moved off it as I bent down. “Don’t pick it up—”

It was still warm, and I quickly realized it wasn’t a piece of trash.

The roughly haired tail was pink as I held it up to the porch light. “It’s a tail.” Where the tail once attached to a body was jagged and bloody. “Someone yanked it off.”

Dead rats often appeared at my doorstep, along with possum, bats, and feral cats. They, too, sought out my window to the Light. But none knocked, vandalized, or left bloody tails behind. My thoughts turned immediately to the Nocti.
Is this a warning like the desecrated animals Perimo left for Auntie in Revelation? Is it starting again?

Tens reached for his knife. “Stay here.”

Custos yapped and took off galloping down the street. In the distance, a cat’s howl was abruptly silenced.

“K
irian, I can’t understand you. What did you say? No, wait! Come back!” I awoke soaking wet with stinking sweat, repeating the same phrases over and over. “Come back. Come back.”
Please come back. Let me save you
. My voice hoarse, my throat parched. Tangled in a nightshirt and sheets, I noticed the streetlights from Main shone brighter than a night-light. Tony’s condo was within walking distance of Meridian and Tens in one direction and the littlies from DG, Bodie and Sema, in the other. He’d picked the location for me without my asking him
to.
I wish he’d ask me what I want instead of assuming. Maybe I want to move to Sydney or Honolulu, nearer the turquoise water of my good dreams. Everything and everywhere here extends my nightmares
.

This bedroom (calling it “mine” tasted foreign) was much bigger than the closet, with its toilet paper and cleaning supplies, under the stairs at Dunklebarger. But while that felt like a cave, a den I escaped into, this one felt almost too abundant, too much, with its high ceilings and bright colors.
Who is the girl who lives here? She’s not me
. Its saving grace, though, was all the food aromas drifting up from the restaurants on street level. The charred, grilling meat and the greasy coating of waffle-cut fries from the burger shop across the street. Or garlic and tomato, mixed with the baking crusts, of the pizza parlor downstairs. A doughnut and frozen custard place opened recently and woke me in the wee hours with the scent of hot coffee and frying dough. I knew hours, every day, based on the food whiffs in my room. There was a rhythm, a pattern.
By four a.m. I should be inhaling java and sugary glazes
. Food brought me comfort and did more to make me feel normal than any of Tony’s reassurances and soft words.
Doesn’t he realize that every time I look at him I am reminded of my dead parents? My unknown history?

Tonight I woke confused and unsure of my surroundings. Kirian was in my dreams.
Again
. He was back, confiding secrets in this bedroom. A room starved of the usual smells of foodstuffs. Instead, clouds of cloying sandalwood and patchouli choked out any oxygen. Only its
sickly spicy scent clogged my throat, making breathing nearly impossible.

Air. I need air
. Clawing at the covers and tossing pretty pillows aside, I rolled to my feet and stumbled to the window. I threw it open with such force I expected the glass to shatter. My lungs and stomach heaved as I gasped, leaning out over Main Street.
Empty. Not a single soul. Deserted
. Even the last of the bar patrons were tucked in at home and sleeping. Not me. Sleep came hard and in spurts of exhaustion.

I threw a leg across the sill and braced my back against the wall, much like I sat in my tree in the middle of the creek.
I’m fine
. I’d adapted to this new place and the new people.
Or not
. Slanting much of my body into the night air, I inhaled greedily, trying to recognize and orient. My eyes tried to focus on the merciful glow from the windows of art galleries below, illuminating colors from paintings and sculptures displayed behind clear panes. Even the clothing boutiques lit their windows, with textures and rainbows of real life, at all hours. Sweat dried on my chest and broke goose bumps along my arms.

The air was thick and tugged at me. Muggy. Heavy.
What are you doing, Juliet? Pretending to be normal? To have moved on? What a joke. Wait till they see who you really are
.

Where is Mini?
She’d come to me less and less since my sixteenth birthday. As if she didn’t have a use for me anymore. As if I was supposed to figure this out myself.
How? How do I keep going? Betray to protect? Save them
to lose them forever?
Panic gripped at my heart. At least they’d be alive to hate me.

My mind whirled in a million different directions.
Breathe. Walk. Breathe. Think. DG is gone
. Nothing worked to stave off anxiety. Eyes closed or open, I saw Kirian’s face tangled up in the ivy tendrils peering down at me. Haunting me. Why couldn’t he love me like he promised?
What is wrong with me?

She was back. I sniffed the air, hoping for a scent of the familiar. No scents filled the air around me. Not a clove of garlic or a leaf of basil. Nothing. I swallowed bile as it crept up the back of my throat. I glanced at the clock. A few hours from dawn. I climbed back into my room. Dare I open the door to the rest of the condo? What if Ms. Asura’s out there? An irrational fear, maybe.
Or not. She is everywhere I go
.

I leaned my head against the slick white door; my hand hovered above the door handle. It moved.
No, it didn’t
. I gagged, tears slashing down my cheeks.
Nononononononono!

Tony was helping at a shelter downtown. He’d told me to call him anytime. I’d said I was fine. A hollow laugh bubbled up.
Fine? This is fine?

I picked up the phone. Started punching in the numbers to call him, confide my fears. I forced myself to press the first few: 3-1-7—

She’ll hurt him. She’ll hurt all of them. I can’t
. I tossed the phone onto the bed and tugged on shorts over panties so new they didn’t feel like mine. A jacket went over
my sleep shirt. I slipped into flip-flops. The messy bun on my head slipped low like it was trying to break free.
I know the feeling
. I yanked open my bedroom door and sprinted down the hallway, never slowing, flying down two flights of stairs. Grabbing the front door, I bounded down the outside steps without looking back. Made it. Now what?
Run
.

Main Street was quiet, except on weekends near the restaurants and bars. Tonight it was easy to slip between cars and duck onto the Monon Trail. I ran. My sandals slapped the pavement, sliding on my toes. I stopped to kick them off and ran barefoot.
Go. Go. Go
. Breaking out into a neighborhood, I cut between cars and driveways, across a road, then went the wrong way around a roundabout. Something sharp sliced my foot.
Shit. Ouch!
I didn’t stop moving. Pain equaled life. Mistress taught me many lessons at DG, but as long as I’d hurt, I’d known I was alive.

I galloped toward Rumi’s studio, the hanging Spirit Stones lighting up as if on a motion sensor.
I’m a Fenestra. Special
. I paused.
Why me? Take it back. I don’t want it
. Winded, I gasped to breathe past the sharp pain in my side. Rumi would pour me grape soda and tell me not to worry. Then he’ll die too. Leaves rustled and footsteps slithered in the darkness.

Someone’s behind me. Gaining on me. Rumi will get hurt too
.

Move. Go! Go!

I stumbled back into a full run. Saw the twinkling
lights of Helios and sped up. Skirting the empty tearoom and parking lot, I stumbled toward the guest cottage, where Meridian and Tens lived. The windows were dark.
Where are the Spirit Stones?
They were sleeping, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care.

I heard Custos rumble a greeting as I tumbled against the front door. My throat burned; my muscles screamed in protest. Sweat from exertion and from fear dripped down my neck, my shins. I shivered. “It’s me, Custos. It’s me,” I whispered against the wood.

Tens opened the door, catching me as I fell against him. “Juliet?”

“Sorry. Sorry.” I sank to the floor, boneless, Tens unable to catch me completely.

Meridian grabbed my hand. “You’re okay now. You’re okay. Catch your breath.”