Wildcat Fireflies (16 page)

“Do you have a plan?”

“No, but I can feel that we’re in the right place.”

“Good enough.” Tens shrugged and picked up the truck keys. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Custos crouched behind us, every so often turning her nose to the air or the ground and puffing like a bellows.

“We should see if Bodie’s out here first.” I hoped he would be.

“Then what? We knock on the front door?”

“Maybe.” I didn’t think so.
Not yet
.

I prayed Bodie would be hiding up in his tree so we could get him to bring Juliet out to us, rather than risk knocking on the door and coming face to face with a Nocti
or worse.
We tell her we’re friends. She’ll know it instinctively and she’ll come with us. That’s how it will play out. That’s how it
has
to play out
.

Hours ticked by while we waited along the creek side. I think I dozed a little, until my legs cramped up from sitting still for so long. “He’s not coming out.” I was disappointed.

“He doesn’t know we’re here.” Tens flexed his feet and knees.

“Should we try again in the morning?” I started to stand.

“Wait, I see movement.” Tens put his hand on my arm.

Custos’s tail beat an excited thump. An animal pranced from the shadows and purred while it rubbed itself along her legs. Custos sniffed it all over and licked its face.

“Is that a cat?” It looked more like walking furniture, an ottoman, or even a horse. It looked at me like it completely understood my thoughts. “Is that the cat from the news—”

“That’s the cat I saw before.” Tens reached out a hand to touch it. When his fingers met the cat’s fur he froze.

“Tens! Tens!” I couldn’t break their contact. The cat too stilled, in midstretch.

Tens didn’t breathe, didn’t move.
What do I do? What do I do? Break their contact. I have to break their contact
.

I tackled him. It was like running into a concrete wall, but he dropped to the ground with a
whoosh
. The cat twitched its tail, coiling and uncoiling, while it glared at me.

Tens lay there gasping for breath, coughing oxygen back into his lungs.

“What the hell was that?” I touched his face and chest, and shooed at the cat, trying to get space. Custos seemed completely unperturbed.
Bad kitty. Bad, bad kitty
.

“Wow. Give me a minute.” Tens blinked, inhaling deep breaths.

“What happened?” I kept myself between him and the cat, ready to intrude before the creature did any even crazier freezing.

“What did it look like?” Tens asked, not moving his head, staring up at the sky.

“You froze like in a cartoon.”
Like a scary Medusa-turning-to-stone, crazy abandon-me thing
.

His breathing evened out, but I watched his pulse flutter like a hummingbird hovering at the base of his throat. “That’s what it felt like. Only more like a download.”

“What?” I glanced at the cat.
Computer cat?

“Minerva. The cat’s name is Minerva. She’s of the Creator. She scolded us for taking so long.”

I shot the cat a dirty look. “Really.”

“She says Juliet is who we’re here to help. And it’s getting dicey.”

“Oh? Did you tell her if we’d had GPS coordinates, or a special forces team to command, maybe this wouldn’t have taken so long?” I paused, getting in his face. “Are you making this up? Playing with me?”
This is a really bad time for Tens to get a sense of humor
.

Tens didn’t respond, just gripped my hand.

Okay, not playing
. “What else?” I asked.

“Minerva and Custos go way back.” He blinked, and tears dripped from the corners of his eyes, not tears from crying, but like tears from peering at the sun too long.

“They know each other?”

“Yeah, they do.”

I nodded. “Custos is more than—”

“She’s a Protector’s animal to call.”

“And the cat is a Fenestra’s? Is that why Custos found you?” Hmm, at least it was nice to know more of the truth rather than having to fill in the blanks with guesses.

“More like sought me out, maybe?”

“Interesting.”

“Minerva says there’s another of the Creator in there helping, keeping Juliet alive. But there’s a Nocti, too, a powerful, ancient evil, coming and going.”

I refused to consider the fact we were now talking to animals and taking their words at face value. What did it say about us that a cat and a wolf were our guides?

I blew out a disappointed breath.
Does there have to be a Nocti in there too?

“She says we’re to come back tomorrow. Be here in the morning, before the sun.”

With that the cat gave Tens another swat with her paw, twitched her tail at me, and trotted back into the bushes. Custos rolled over on her back and wagged her tail with her tongue touching the ground. She barked, looking at us upside down, and scratched her back by wiggling in the grass.

When we looked back, Minerva was gone. I hoped she’d left to make Juliet’s life a bit more bearable. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say the Creators have a sense of humor.”

Tens rolled to his feet, moving slowly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I hugged his side to steady him.

“I feel like I ran headfirst into a wall. Wow.” He leaned on me as we wandered back down the path.

“So we come back in the morning?”

Come back and do what? Specifics, Minerva? Is that asking too much?

I
drove us back to the cottage, snatching glances at Tens. When we arrived, he collapsed on the bed.

“Stop staring at me, I’m fine,” he mumbled against the pillows, his eyes squeezed shut.

I turned my back and tried to noiselessly tidy up the kitchen. The space was tight and I found it impossible to be quiet. The more I tried, the louder I became. Finally, I dropped a glass and it shattered. Cleaning it up was even noisier.

Tens covered his head with a pillow and growled, “Too
much noise. Go shopping, wander—buy something to wear tonight.”

“Rumi’s dinner party? I don’t think so. I’m canceling.” I’d forgotten about it, but no way was Tens up to being social.

“No, you’re not. I’ll be fine once I get some sleep. Go away for a little while. Please?” He whined the last bit.

He was right in a weird way. The only clothes I had were ones we’d picked up at chain stores. Things that came in packages of three or were under five bucks a pop, items that we could grab and go. Jeans didn’t quite fit; T-shirts either hung loose or were too tight. Not a skirt to see, since I’d ditched my old private-school uniform at Auntie’s. “Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh. Positive. Go wild. Buy me a new shirt, too. Whatever.”

“How about boots?”

“If you can find fourteens.”

“Is that big?” No clue here. Sammy was just out of boys extra-small.

“Yeah, good luck. Focus on the possible. Now go.” He turned his back to me. “Custos, keep an eye on her.”

I wagged my finger at Custos. “Stay.” If I wasn’t here to protect him, she needed to be. Especially if she had a red phone line to the Powers with powers.

Thankfully, cute boutiques lined the streets of Carmel. I found a little black dress that was comfortable and classy but still leaned toward sexy. Perfect for impressing Tens embarrassing the old people at dinner.

I searched for boots for Tens, but only found ones that went up to a twelve. The shirt was easier. I bought a dressy rugby shirt in a cotton-cashmere blend that mirrored the blue of Colorado’s sky. It was a selfish purchase because Tens would look amazing and be irresistible to touch wearing something so soft and cozy.

That night while he showered, I admired myself in the mirror. The black knit dress fit my blossoming curves. Thin screamed ill to me, so filling it out felt right—it felt healthy and alive. I no longer resembled a starvation victim. I guessed there’d be a time or a point when I might want to stop gaining weight, but I was nowhere near that yet.

I pinned my hair up and put on the chandelier earrings I’d bought. They made my neck look long and graceful, but quite bare. “Are you sure you feel okay?” I asked Tens, as he came out of the bathroom dressed, his hair tousled and damp against his collar.

“Yep, sleep helped.”

I thought he was lying, but I let it go. “Do I look all right?”

“Hmm.” Tens studied me. “You’re missing something.”

“A sweater?”
It might be colder than it looks. January isn’t July
.

“Maybe, but open this.” Tens handed me a gift bag exploding with colored tissues and ribbons. The Helios crest decorated the outside of the bag.

I reached in and immediately knew by feel that this was the stunning emerald green velvet scarf I’d coveted
when we’d first arrived. The one Joi had purposefully commented on with a wink for Tens.

“I was saving it for a special occasion.” Tens wrapped it around my neck and let it drape carefully across my collarbones and over my breasts.

“Thank you.” I leaned up and kissed him quickly, adoring the feel of the velvet on my bare skin. It fluttered as I moved and grew warm, as if I carried a living creature twined around my neck. Hugging him, I knew I’d made the right shirt choice—he rocked the blue.

He gazed down at me. “You’re beautiful. Always beautiful, Supergirl.”

“Even in SpongeBob flannels?” I teased.

“I’m terribly disappointed those no longer fit.” Tens’s voice dropped to a gravel pitch and hinted more than a little.

“Those were sexy.” I laughed until my heart seized with the memory.
Sammy gave them to me
.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand Tens. This was one of those times he knew my heart better than me. “More than words. I hope he’s okay.”

He rested his head on the crown of mine. “I’d know if he wasn’t. I’m sure I’d know.”

“You think?” I breathed in his warmth, his steady heartbeat.

His tone completely confident, he rushed to assure me. “I’m sure. I’m supposed to protect you. How can I do that if things like that sneak up on me? Maybe we should try to find them?”

“Maybe.” I tensed.
Can I take that? Can I talk to my mom and not scream at her, or hate her, or say all the things I’ve shoved deep?

“When you’re ready, okay?” He backed off.

“Not yet.” I was still blindingly angry with my mother. I wasn’t as upset with my father, who’d been kept in the dark as much as me.
What did he think when the dead piled up around me? When I seemed plagued with illness and injury and ghosts?
I knew what he’d thought. The same things I’d assumed, the names I’d heard whispered at my back.
Freak. Sideshow act. Witch
.

My mother was the one who’d never told us. Not until it was too late and the Nocti had already found me. Us. Not until I’d been shipped off to Revelation and my parents took my little brother to run to points unknown. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forgive her blatant omissions of what could have saved us all so much pain and suffering.
If only she’d told me
.

“It might help to hear what she has to say.” Tens stepped away, pulling me toward the door.

I shook my head. “We’re going to be late.” Changing the subject abruptly, I twined my fingers in Tens’s and we hurried on foot to Meridian Street and Rumi’s home. The air felt heavy with moisture, like we were standing beside the ocean.

Rumi’s living quarters were in the back of his warehouse studio and gallery. The entrance was a sliding glass patio door.

We hadn’t even knocked before he slid the door open. “Come in, come in.” Soaring strings played in the
background, and candlelight danced behind forged iron lanterns and candlesticks. Scents of grilled red meat and hot bread, along with those of hyacinths and paperwhites, drifted over us. The lively chatter of guests wasn’t off-putting, but instead relaxed me immediately. The whole evening felt friendly and open.

I was unsure of what to expect because I rarely had good experiences in groups of people. I avoided crowds.

The soaring ceilings of the industrial space seemed like the only way a man of Rumi’s stature wouldn’t feel confined. Tibetan prayer flags hung from the rafters. I glanced around quickly, surprised to see very little glass, very little of anything. The decor was almost monastic. Few electronics, save a small stereo system, and bare walls dotted with wood mandalas and natural elements like driftwood and bird-feather wreaths that brought the outside in. The palette was browns, greens, and creams. Calming and meditative. The furniture was wood or iron, or a combination of both. It was the opposite of the candy-bright breakable clutter of the glass studio beyond the dividing wall.

I tried to hand Rumi a bag with his archives in it. “We’d like to look at these again if it’s possible,” I whispered.

“Just keep them for now,” he answered in hushed tones, and set the bag with our coats. “Let me introduce you to my friends.” Rumi circled the group and made introductions. Everyone else seemed very familiar with each other. With the exception of one woman, Nelli, who worked for the attorney general investigating abuse and neglect in the Department of Child Services, they all
looked like they’d been AARP eligible for decades. Which didn’t mean they appeared infirm, or diminished in any way. The opposite was true; this was the vibrancy I had seen in Auntie beyond the window, not the dying person I’d met in Colorado. I was only beginning to understand how much work, how hard it was for most people to die.

Rumi referred to all of them as Ms. or Mr. and their first name, as if he owed them a respect that couldn’t be achieved on a first-name basis alone. None of them seemed to find it odd that a couple of teenagers were joining what felt like a regular gathering.

We sat down to eat almost immediately. The table was an impressive expanse of solid burl wood, topped with glass. Each place setting matched itself, but the items clearly came from different artists, working in different mediums. Even the silverware was to each its own pattern. Juicy, garlicy meat loaf, creamy scalloped potatoes, blanched greens with slivered almonds, French bread, and salads full of bright colors and textures were placed on the table and passed around family style. I sat by Tens, and Rumi and Gus took the ends, which left Faye, Sidika, and Nelli across from us.