by Nora Roberts
“Why should you? It shouldn’t matter, anyway.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, hugged the elbows tight. Because it did matter, and it always would. “It was long ago when he wrote that. Long ago when I was foolish enough to believe he meant it. To need him to.”
“He’s not worth it. No man’s worth it.”
“You’re right, of course. But I believe, unfortunately, that there’s one person for each of us who’s worth everything.”
Rather than speak, Ripley laid a hand on Mia’s shoulder, left it there when Mia reached back, held it.
“I miss you, Ripley.” The grief of it trembled in her voice, like tears. “The two of you left holes in me. And neither of us will be pleased tomorrow that I said that today. So.” Briskly she released Ripley’s hand, stepped away. “Poor Mac. I should go make amends.”
“You smoked one of his toys, I think. But he seemed more jazzed by it than upset.”
“Still, one should have more control,” she replied. “As you well know.”
“Bite me.”
“Ah, we’re back. Well, then, I’ll go see what I can do to patch things up.” She started back toward the cave, glanced over her shoulder. “Coming?”
“No, you go ahead.” Ripley waited until Mia disappeared into the shadow of the cave before she let out a long breath. “I miss you, too.”
She stayed there, crouching at a tidal pool until she pulled herself together. Mia had always been better, she thought, at smoothing her ruffles. And Ripley had always envied her that degree of self-control.
She watched the little world in the water, a kind of island, she supposed, where each depended on the others for survival.
Mia was depending on her. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to accept her connection or the responsibility it put on her shoulders. Refusing to believe it had given her a decade of normality, and cost her a cherished friend.
Then Nell had come, and the circle had formed again. The power of that had been so brilliant, so strong. As if it had never been locked away.
It had been hard, very hard, to turn the key again.
Now there was Mac. She had to decide if he was the next link in a chain that would drag her down, or the key to another lock.
She wished with all her heart he could be just a man.
Mia’s laughter drifted out of the cave, and Ripley straightened. How did she do that? Ripley wondered. How did she turn herself around in such a short span of time?
She started toward the cave just as Mia and Mac stepped out. For an instant she saw another woman, hair bright as flame, sweep out of that dark mouth. Bundled in her arms was a sleek black pelt.
The vision wavered, blurred, then slid away, like a painting left out in the rain. It left behind the vague headache that those images always brought with them.
Ten years, she thought again. For ten years she’d blocked it all. Now it was seeping back, liquid through cracks in a glass. If she didn’t shore up those cracks it would all break free. And never be contained again.
Though her knees had jellied, she strode forward. “So, what’s the joke?”
“Just enjoying each other’s company.” Mia wrapped her arm around Mac’s, sent him a slow, warm look from under her lashes.
Ripley just shook her head. “Get the goofy grin off your face, Booke. She does it on purpose. What is it about you and men, Mia? You get within two feet of one, and his IQ drops below his belt.”
“Just one of my many talents. Don’t look so flustered, handsome.” She rose to her toes to kiss Mac’s cheek. “She knows I never poach.”
“Then stop teasing him. He’s starting to sweat.”
“I like him.” Deliberately Mia cuddled against Mac’s side. “He’s so cute.”
“Is there any way I can enter this conversation,” Mac wondered, “without sounding like a moron?”
“No. But I think we’re done now.” Ripley hooked her thumbs in her jacket pockets. “How’s your head?”
“Nothing a bottle of aspirin won’t cure.” When he reached up to probe gingerly at the knot, Mia asked, “Did you hurt yourself? Let me see.” She was a great deal more gentle than Ripley had been, but just as firm. After she took a look, she hissed out a breath. “You might have had some compassion,” Mia snapped at Ripley.
“It’s just a scratch.”
“It’s seeping blood, swollen and painful. None of which is necessary. Sit,” she ordered Mac and gestured at a tumble of rocks.
“Really, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. I’m always banging into something.”
“Sit.” Mia all but shoved him down, then drew a small bag out of her pocket. “I have. . . a connection to the cave,” she said as she took some cayenne out of her bag. “And so a connection to this. Be still.”
She stroked her fingers over the cut. He felt a gathering of heat, a focus of the pain. Before he could speak, she was chanting quietly.
“With herb and touch and thought to heal, this wound under my care to seal. From illness and pain let him now be free. As I will, so mote it be. There, now.” She bent over, touched her lips to the unmarked top of his head. “Better?”
“Yes.” He blew out a long breath. The ache, the throbbing had vanished before she’d finished her chant. “I’ve seen cayenne work on minor cuts, but not like that. Not instantly.”
“The herb’s a kind of backup. Now be more careful with that handsome head of yours. Friday night, then?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Wait.” Ripley held up a hand. “What?”
“I thought it only fair that I make it up to Mac for damaging his equipment. I’ve invited him up on Friday to observe a ritual.”
Ripley was speechless for a moment, then she grabbed Mia’s arm. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course. Why don’t you walk me to my car?” Mia sent Mac an easy smile. “Friday, after sunset. You know the way.”
“Obviously you’ve lost your mind,” Ripley began as she accompanied Mia across the shale. “Since when do you perform for an audience?”
“He’s a scientist.”
“All the more. Listen. . .” Ripley broke off as they started up the rise to the road. “Okay, listen,” she started again. “I know you’re probably a little shaken up right now, and not thinking straight.”
“I’m fine, but I appreciate your concern.”
“Fine, my ass.” Ripley took three long strides away, three long strides back. Waved her arms. “Why don’t you sell tickets?”
“He’s not a gawker, Ripley, and you know it. He’s an intelligent man with an open mind. I trust him.” Mia angled her head, and those witch-smoke eyes were both amused and puzzled. “I’m surprised you don’t.”
“It’s not a matter of trust.” But she rolled her shoulders as though she felt a twinge. “Just take some time, think it through before you do something you can’t take back.”
“He’s part of it,” Mia said quietly. “You already know that. I feel something for him. Not sexual,” she added. “But intimate, nonetheless. A warmth without heat. If there’d been heat, I’d have acted on it. He wasn’t for me.”
She said the last pointedly. “What you feel for him is different, and it unsettles you. If it was just sexual attraction, you’d have had sex with him.”
“How do you know I haven’t?” When Mia merely smiled, Ripley cursed. “And this has nothing to do with anything.”
“It has all to do with everything. You’ll make your own choices, in your own time. I’m going to ask Nell to join us, if she’d like.” Mia opened the car door as Ripley stood and steamed. “You’re welcome, of course.”
“If I wanted to join the circus, I’d have learned how to juggle.”
“Your choice, as I said.” She climbed in, then lowered her window. “He’s an exceptional man, Ripley. I envy you.”
That statement had Ripley’s mouth dropping open as Mia drove away.
Mac was packingup when Ripley came back. He�
��d gotten all he believed he was going to get that day, but he intended to return when the atmosphere wasn’t quite so volatile.
In any case, he needed to do some repairs and needed to settle himself as well.
When Ripley’s shadow crossed the opening of the cave, he tucked his Palmcorder into its bag. “You tried to talk her out of meeting with me.”
“That’s right.”
“Is that how you refrain from interfering in my work?”
“This is different.”
“Why don’t you give me your definition of interference?”
“Okay, you’re pissed off. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to keep my mouth shut when someone I . . . someone I know makes a decision because she’s whacked out emotionally. It isn’t fair.”
“You think I’d take advantage of whatever it is that upset her?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
He was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. She has several days to change her mind.”
“She made the deal, she’ll keep it. That’s how she works.”
“So do you. You’re like two pieces of the same puzzle. What caused the rift between you?”
“It’s old news.”
“No, it’s not. She hurt and you bled for her. I watched you. Now you’d protect her if you could.” He picked up two of his bags, straightened. “You’re the same with Nell. You’re a shield for those who matter to you. Who stands for you, Ripley?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt it, but that’s not the point. They stand for you, and that’s what you don’t quite know how to handle.”
“You don’t know me well enough to know what I can handle.”
“I’ve known you all my life.”
She reached out to stop him before he walked outside again. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I asked you once about your dreams. One day, I’ll tell you about mine.”
He’d put dreamsin her mind, that’s what she told herself even as she was sucked into them. Knowing it was a dream didn’t stop the action.
She was on the beach with a storm charging in like a runaway train. And the storm was her fury. There were others with her, shadows and lights. Love, and the barbed trap of its opposite.
A bolt sliced out of the sky, a silver blade that cleaved the earth in two. The world around her was madness, and the taste of it wildly tempting.
The choice is yours, now and always.
Power snapped. And stung.
The choice, now and always. She could reach out, clasp the hand that beckoned, that offered a bridge to the light. Or she could stay in the dark and feed.
She was hungry.
Ripley awoke weeping, with images of destruction still reeling in her mind.
Eleven
She rarely soughtcounsel. In her experience advice was never easy to swallow. But the dream had broken her back.
Half a dozen times during the day she’d nearly dumped it all on Zack. He’d always been there for her, and their friendship was as solid and true as their blood tie. But she was forced to admit she wanted a woman’s shoulder. Mia and Nell were out of the question. They were too tightly connected.
But there was one who was linked to all of them, and who could always be counted on to speak her mind. Whether or not you cared to hear it.
She went to Lulu.
She waited until she thought that Lulu had had time enough to get home from the bookstore but not enough to settle in too comfortably. After she’d waded through the lawn art, adjusted her eyes to the virulent colors that Lulu habitually selected to paint her house, and knocked on the back door, Ripley was pleased to see her timing was good.
Lulu had changed out of her work clothes into a sweatshirt that read, “Coffee, Chocolate, Men . . . Some things are just better rich.” She had an unopened bottle of wine in her hand and was wearing ratty red slippers and the faintly irritated look of a woman who’d been interrupted.
“What’s up with you?” she demanded.
It wasn’t the warmest of welcomes, but it was Lulu. “Got a minute?”
“I guess I do.” She turned away and clomped back to the counter for her corkscrew. “Want a glass of this?”
“Wouldn’t mind it.”
“Good thing I didn’t light that joint.”
Ripley winced. “Damn, Lu.”
Lulu let out a cackling laugh and popped the cork. “Just kidding. Always could get you. Haven’t had a toke in . . .” She sighed nostalgically. “Twenty-six years. Your daddy was the first and last to bust me. Confiscated my pretty little plant, and my stash. Told me he knew I could get more where that came from if I had a mind to, or I could keep on working for Mia’s grandmother—and tending Mia, and he figured I had the good sense to know which I needed more. Always liked your daddy.”
“That’s a heartwarming story, Lu. Just chokes me up.”
Lulu poured wine into two glasses, then sat and propped her feet on one of the kitchen chairs. “What brings you to my door, Deputy?”
“Can we start with some light conversation, so I can work up to it?”
“Okay.” Lulu sipped, savoring the first taste of the end of the workday. “How’s your sex life?”
“That’s sort of part of what I’m going to work up to.”
“Never thought I’d see the day when Let-’Er-Rip came to my door for a sex talk.”
Before she could stop herself, Ripley squirmed. “Jeez, Lu, nobody calls me that anymore.”
Lulu grinned. “I do. Always did admire your up-front approach to things. Got man trouble, baby doll?”
“Sort of. But—”
“Nice-looking man. PhDee-licious.” Lulu smacked her lips. “Not your usual type, of course. Kinda slow and thoughtful, and a little on the sweet side. Not so sweet he hurts your teeth or anything. Just a nice flavor. If I were thirty years younger—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’d have a taste of him yourself.” Sulking, Ripley propped her chin on her fists.
“Don’t smart-ass me. Anyway, it’s nice to see you realize brains are sexy. So, how’s he rate in the sack?”
“We haven’t been there.”
Rather than surprising her, the statement confirmed Lulu’s recent observations. She set down her glass, pursed her lips. “Figured, and that tells me one thing. He scares you.”
“I’m not scared of him.” Accusations of that nature always put Ripley’s back up, especially when they were true. “I’m just being cautious and taking my time. It’s . . . complicated.”
Lulu pressed her fingertips together in a kind of prayer tent. “Here is some wisdom of the ages, grasshopper.”
Despite herself, Ripley grinned. “Who’s the smart-ass?”
“Shut up and listen. The wisdom is this: sex is better when it’s complicated.”
“Why?”
“Because. When you can snatch the pebbles out of my hand, you will know the answer for yourself.”
“I really like him. I meanreally. ”
“What’s bad about that?”
“Nothing. I just wish, sort of, that we’d gone ahead with it right off the bat so there wouldn’t be all these jitters and wondering and buildup so it all seems so . . .”
“Important.”
The breath whizzed out of Ripley’s lungs. “Okay, yeah. Important. Worse, I think he knows it’s important, and if he does, it means when it all comes down I’m not going to be really, you know, in charge.”
Lulu just sipped. And waited.
“And that sounds really stupid, doesn’t it? Okay.” Ripley nodded, oddly settled on one very important level. “I think maybe I’ve got that now.”
“There’s more.”
“Yeah. Mia’s going to let him observe a ritual on Friday,” Ripley blurted out. “And if Mia’s involved, Nell will be, too. She’s only doing it because she was upset yesterday. At the cave . . . you know, the cave. She got all twisted up, and it doesn’t matter how quick she manages to
untwist again, it shakes her. She’s just doing this to prove she can handle everything.”
“She can handle it,” Lulu said quietly. “If you’d stuck with her all those years ago, you’d have a better grip on what she can handle.”
“I couldn’t.”
“That’s done. Matters more what you’re going to do now.”
“I don’t know what to do. That’s the whole thing.”
“Are you looking for me to tell you?”
Ripley lifted her glass. “I guess I wanted to know what you’d say, what you thought. This messes me up, Lu. It’s coming back on me, in me. Oh, fuck, I don’t know how to explain it. I wanted it to go away. Imade it go away. Now it’s like there are these little openings all over the place, and I can’t plug them all.”
“It never did sit comfortable on you. Some things aren’t meant to be comfortable.”
“Maybe I was worried it would get too comfortable. I don’t have Mia’s control, or Nell’s compassion. I don’t have those things.”
Circles, Lulu thought. They always came around. “No, what you’ve got is passion, and an innate sense of right and wrong—and a need to see it served up. That’s why the three of you make the circle, Ripley, bringing to it the best of yourselves.”
“Or the worst.” And that was her fear. Her terror. “That’s the way it went down three hundred years ago, if you buy into it.”
“You can’t change what was, but you can what’s coming. But you can’t hide from either. It sounds to me like you’re thinking you’ve been hiding out long enough.”
“I never thought of it as hiding. I’m not a coward. Even after we dealt with Remington I could pretty much pull it back, maintain the status quo. But since Mac, it keeps slipping out of my fingers.”
“So you’re worried that if you’re with him, you won’t be able to pull anything back. Not just what you are, but what you feel.”
“That’s about it.”
“So you’re going to tiptoe around.” Lulu let out a huff of breath, shook her head. “Worry and fret and whatnot about what might be instead of swinging into the saddle and finding out what is.”
“I don’t want to hurt the ones who matter to me.”
“Doing nothing sometimes hurts more than doing something. Life doesn’t come with a guarantee, which is just as well, because most guarantees are bullshit.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” There was nothing and no one like Lulu, Ripley thought, for clearing out the murk. “I guess I’ve been on the edge of doing something for a while now, and not doing it is making me crazy. And stupid,” she added, as she would have said to few others.
