“Are you there?” she asked after a long silence.
“Just thinking,” he said.
“Then you’re cloaking,” she said. “You’re keep ing your thoughts from me.”
Suddenly Ivy was rocked with feelings of love and tenderness. Then intense fear rushed through her, and anger, and wordless despair. She was swimming in a churning sea of emotions, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
“Maybe I should have lifted just one corner of the cloak,” Tristan remarked. “I have to leave you now, Ivy.”
“No. Wait. When will I see you again?” she asked. “How will I find you?”
“Well, you don’t have to stand on the end of a diving board.”
Ivy smiled.
“The end of a tree limb will do,” he said. “Or the roof of any building three stories or higher.”
“What?”
“Just kidding,” he said, laughing. “Just call—anytime, anywhere, silently—and I’ll hear you. If I don’t come, it’s because I’m in the middle of something that I can’t stop, or I’m in the darkness. I can’t control the darkness.” He sighed. “I can feel it coming on—I can feel it right now—and I can fight it off for a while. But in the end I fall unconscious. It’s how I rest. I guess one day the darkness will be final.”
“No!”
“Yes, love,” he said softly.
A moment later he was gone.
The emptiness he left inside her was almost unbearable. Without his light, the room fell into blue shadow and Ivy felt lost in the twilight between two worlds. She fought against the doubts that began to creep in. She hadn’t imagined this—Tristan was there, and Tristan would come back again.
She worked through some Bach pieces, playing them mechanically one after another, and had just closed her music books when her mother called up to her. Maggie’s voice sounded funny, and when Ivy reached the bottom of the steps she saw why. Maggie was standing in front of Ivy’s bureau; the water angel lay shattered at her feet.
“Honey, I’m sorry,” her mother said.
Ivy walked over to the bureau and got down on her knees. There were a few large pieces, but the rest of the statue had splintered into small fragments. It could never be repaired.
“Philip must have left it here,” Maggie said. “He must have put it too close to the edge. Please don’t let this upset you, honey.”
“I brought it in here myself, Mom. And it’s nothing to get upset about. Accidents happen,” she said, marveling at her own calmness. “Please don’t blame yourself.”
“But I didn’t do it,” Maggie replied quickly. “I walked in to call you for dinner and saw it lying here.”
Hearing their voices, Philip stuck his head in the door. “Oh, no!” he wailed. “She broke!”
Gregory came into the room behind him. He looked at the statue, then shook his head, glancing over at the bed. “Ella,” he said softly.
But Ivy knew who had done it. It was the same person who had shredded Andrew’s expensive chair months ago—and it wasn’t Ella. She wanted to charge across the room. She wanted to back Gregory against the wall. She wanted to make him admit it in front of the others. But she knew she had to play along. And she would—till she got him to confess that he had broken more things than porcelain angels.
P3-6
“’Tis the Season, Ivy speaking. How can I help you?”
“Did you find out?”
“Suzanne! I told you not to call me at work unless it’s an emergency. You know we have a Friday night special,” Ivy said, and glanced toward the door, where two customers had just come in. The little shop, filled to the brim with costumes and a hodgepodge of out-of-season items—Easter baskets, squeaking turkeys, and plastic menorahs—always attracted shoppers. Betty, one of the two old sisters who owned the shop, was home sick, and Lillian and Ivy had their hands full.
“This is an emergency,” Suzanne insisted. “Did you find out who Gregory’s going out with tonight?”
“I don’t even know if he’s got a date. I came here right after school, so I have nothing new to tell you since we talked at three o’clock.”
Ivy wished Suzanne hadn’t called. In the twenty-four hours since Tristan had visited her, she had been on the alert no matter where she was. At home, Gregory’s bedroom door was right down the hall from hers. At school, she saw him all the time. It had been a relief to come to work: she felt safe among the crowd of customers and was glad not to think about Gregory, even if it was for only six hours.
“Well, you sure are a lousy detective,” Suzanne said, her laughter breaking in on Ivy’s thoughts. “As soon as you get home tonight, start snooping. Philip may know something. I want to know who and where, for how long, and what she wore.”
“Listen, Suzanne,” Ivy said, “I don’t want to be the one carrying stories back and forth between you and Gregory. Even if I knew that Gregory was with somebody else tonight, I wouldn’t feel right telling you that, any more than I’d feel right telling him that you’re with Jeff.”
“But you’ve got to tell him, Ivy!” Suzanne exclaimed. “That’s the whole point! How is he going to get jealous if he doesn’t know?”
Ivy silently shook her head and watched three young boys jabbing pencils into the store’s seven-foot model of King Kong. “I’ve got customers, Suzanne. I’ve got to go.”
“Did you hear what I said? I want to make Gregory incredibly jealous.”
“We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Outrageously jealous,” Suzanne said. “So jealous, he can’t see straight.”
“Well talk later,” Ivy said, hanging up.
Each time she finished with a customer that evening, Ivy’s thoughts drifted back to Suzanne. If Suzanne made Gregory outrageously jealous, would he hurt her? She wished Suzanne and Gregory would lose interest in each other, but this on-again off-again stuff was just the kind of thing to keep the fire burning.
If I tell Suzanne he’s going out with a hundred different girls, Ivy thought, she’ll want him all the more. If I criticize him, shell just defend him and get mad at me.
At closing time Lillian sat down wearily on the stool behind the cash register. She shut her eyes for a moment.
“You okay?” Ivy asked. “You look pretty tired.”
The old woman patted Ivy’s hand. Her mother’s diamond ring, a pink healing crystal, and a Star Trek communicator glittered on her gnarled fingers. “I’m fine, dear, fine. I’m nothing but old,” she said.
“Why don’t you rest a few minutes? I can do the receipts,” Ivy told her, taking the pile away from the owner. After they closed up, Ivy planned to walk Lillian to her car. Once the customers left and the lights were dimmed, the cavernous mall would be filled with shadows and small rustlings. That night Ivy would be as glad as Lillian to have some company.
“I’m nothing but ancient,” Lillian said with a sigh. “Ivy, would you do me a favor? Would you close up tonight?”
“Close up?” Ivy was caught by surprise. Stay by myself? she thought. “Sure.”
Lillian got up from the stool and put on her sweater. “Come in late tomorrow, lovey,” she said as she walked toward the door. “Betty should be on her feet again, and w’ll be all right. You’re a dear.”
“It’s no trouble,” Ivy said softly as she watched Lillian disappear into the mall. She wondered where Tristan was, and if she should call him.
Don’t be such a coward, Ivy chided herself, and turned to open the wall box where the light switches were. She hit the switches, dimming all the store’s lights, then changed her mind and turned half of them back on again. Ivy glanced toward the dressing rooms at the back of the store. She fought the urge to double-check and make sure everyone was out. Don’t be so paranoid, she told herself. But it wasn’t hard to imagine someone lurking in a fitting room, and it wasn’t hard to picture someone waiting for her in the shadows of the mall.
“I want everything in your cash box.”
Ivy jumped at the sound of Eric�
��s voice. His finger poked her in the back. Someone else laughed—Gregory.
She spun around to face both of them.
“Oh, sorry,” Gregory said when he saw the look on her face. “We didn’t mean to really scare you.”
“I meant to,” Eric said with a high-pitched laugh.
“We thought you’d be finishing up soon, so we stopped by,” Gregory said, touching her on the elbow, his voice soft and easy.
“To get your cash before you put it in the safe,” Eric interjected. “About how much do you have?”
“Ignore him,” Gregory told Ivy.
“She does. She always has,” Eric remarked, and started rifling through the shop’s bins.
“We’re just hanging out tonight,” Gregory said. “Want to hang out with us?”
Ivy forced a smile and flipped through the store receipts. “Thanks, but I’ve got a lot to do.”
“We’ll wait.”
She smiled again and shook her head.
“Come on, Ivy,” Gregory urged. “You’ve hardly been out in the last three weeks. It’ll be good for you.”
“Will it?” Ivy looked up, gazing directly into Gregory’s eyes. “You’re always looking out for me.”
“And I’ll continue to,” he replied, smiling at her. There wasn’t a hint of what he was thinking behind his gray eyes and too-handsome face.
“Teeth!” Eric exclaimed. “Look at these bloodsucking teeth. This is cool.” He ripped open a plastic package and stuck the vampire teeth in his mouth, grinning at Gregory. His skinny arms dangled by his sides, and his fingers danced with nervousness. Ivy thought about the way Gregory had applauded Eric the night his friend conned them at the railroad bridges. She wondered how far Eric would go to amuse Gregory and win his approval.
“It’s an improvement, Eric,” Gregory said, “and some girls get turned on by vampires.” He gave Ivy a sly smile. “Don’t they?”
The last time Gregory had come late to the shop, he had dressed up as Dracula. Ivy remembered his insistent kisses and how she had given in to them. Now her skin grew warm, and she could feel herself flushing with anger. Her fingers curled into fists, which she quickly put behind her.
I can play this game as well as he can, she thought, and tilted back her head. “Some girls do.”
Gregory stared at her neck, his eyes glimmering, then focused on her mouth, as if he wanted to kiss her again.
“Ivy, what in the world are you doing?”
The question stunned her. It was Tristan’s voice. She hadn’t been aware of him slipping inside her mind, yet clearly neither Eric nor Gregory had heard him speak. Ivy knew her face was red, and she quickly dropped her chin.
Gregory laughed. “You’re blushing.”
Ivy turned and walked away from him. But she couldn’t get away from Tristan.
“You think he wants to kiss you?” Tristan asked scornfully. “Strangle you, maybe! Ivy, don’t be stupid. These are tricks.”
Silently she told Tristan, “I know what I’m doing.”
Gregory followed her over to the counter and slid his hand around her waist.
“Gregory, please,” she said.
“Please what?” he asked, his mouth close to her ear.
“Eric is here,” she reminded him, and glanced over her shoulder. But Eric was on the other side of a rack, lost in a world of costumes.
“My mistake,” Gregory said softly, “bringing Eric along.”
“Get rid of Gregory,” Tristan cut in. “Get rid of both of them and lock the door.”
Ivy slid away from Gregory.
“Call security,” Tristan continued. “Ask them to walk you to your car.”
“Besides,” Ivy said to Gregory, “there’s Suzanne. You know Suzanne and I have been friends forever.”
“Ivy!” Tristan exclaimed. “Don’t you know anything about guys? You’re setting yourself up. Now he’s going to use one of those old excuses.”
Ivy silently retorted, “I know what I’m doing.”
“Suzanne is too easy,” Gregory said, moving closer to Ivy. “Too jealous and too easy. I’m bored.”
“I guess it’s a lot more interesting,” Tristan remarked, “to get it on with the girlfriend of the guy you murdered.”
Ivy jerked her head as if she had been slapped.
“What’s wrong?” Gregory asked her.
“Ivy, I’m sorry,” Tristan said quickly, “but you’re not listening to me. You don’t seem to understand—”
“I understand, Tristan,” Ivy thought angrily. “Leave me alone before I mess up.”
“What are you thinking?” Gregory asked. “You’re mad, I can tell.” He smoothed her brow, then traced her cheek, his fingers lightly touching her neck. “You used to like it when I touched you,” he said.
Ivy could feel Tristan’s anger surging up inside her. She felt as if she was losing control. She closed her eyes, focused her attention, and pressed him out, out as far as she could from her mind.
When she opened her eyes Gregory was staring at her. “Out?” he said. “Were you talking to me?”
“Talking to you?” Ivy echoed. Terrific. She had spoken aloud. “No,” she told Gregory, “I don’t remember saying anything to you.”
He frowned at her.
“But you know me,” she said cheerfully, “I’m just a little crazy.”
He continued to stare at her. “Maybe,” he said.
Ivy smiled and moved past him. For the next fifteen minutes she paid attention to Eric, helping him find parts of costumes, while keeping one eye on the shop door, waiting for security to pass by. When the guard did and pointed to his watch, signaling that it was well past nine-thirty, she called out to him. Since the mall was officially closed, she asked him if he’d show Eric and Gregory a door where they could exit.
Then she locked the shop door behind them and leaned back against it, limp with relief. “I’m sorry, Tristan,” she said, but she was pretty sure he didn’t hear her.
Tristan watched Ivy, her head bent over the store receipts, her curly hair a web of gold under the one light that now shone over the desk at the cash register. The rest of the shop was dimly lit, its corners receding into darkness.
He wanted to touch her hair, to materialize his fingers and feel the softness of her skin. He wanted to talk to her, just talk to her. But he remained hidden, still angry, hurt by the way she had thrust him out of her mind.
Ivy raised her head suddenly and glanced around as if she sensed his presence. “Tristan?”
If he stayed outside of her, she wouldn’t hear him. But what did he have to say to her? That he loved her. That she had hurt him. That he was terrified for her.
She saw him now. “Tristan.” The way she said his name could still make him tremble. “I didn’t think you’d come back. After putting you out like that, I didn’t think you’d come to me.”
Tristan stayed where he was.
“And you’re not coming to me, are you?” she asked.
He heard the tremor in her voice and couldn’t decide what to do. Leave her? Let her wonder for a while. He didn’t want to fight, and he had work to do that night.
If only you knew how much I love you, he thought.
“Tristan,” she said silently.
He was in her mind now and knew the thought they had shared: If only you knew how much I love you.
Ivy was crying.
“Don’t. Please don’t,” he said.
“Try to understand,” she begged him silently. “I gave my heart to you, but it’s still mine. You can’t just come in and take over. I have my own thoughts, Tristan, and my own way of doing things.”
“You’ve always had your own thoughts and your own way of doing things,” he said. Then he laughed in spite of himself. “I remember how you were leading your guide around your very first day in our school—that’s when I fell in love with you,” he told her. “But you’ve got to understand, too. I’m afraid for you. What were you doing, Ivy, playing like that w
ith Gregory?”
Ivy slid off the desk stool and walked toward a dark corner of the shop. Eric had left a pile of costumes on the floor. Tristan could feel their silky softness through Ivy’s hands as she picked them up. “I’m playing Gregory’s game,” she said. “I’m playing the role he’s given me—keeping him wondering and keeping him close.”
“It’s too dangerous, Ivy.”
“No,” she replied firmly. “Living in the same house with him and trying to avoid him—that would be dangerous. I can’t hide from him, so the trick is never, ever to take my eyes off him.” She picked up a glittering black mask and held it in front of her face.
“I have to know what he’s doing and what he’s saying,” she continued. “I have to wait for him to slip up. As long as I’m here—and I told you, Tristan, I’m staying here—it’s the only way.”
“There’s another way to keep track of him,” Tristan said, “and to keep a person between you at the same time. Will is his friend. You could date Will.”
There was a long silence, and Tristan could feel Ivy cloaking her thoughts from him. “No, that’s not a good idea,” she said at last.
“Why not?” His voice came out too sharply. He could feel her searching carefully for the right words.
“I don’t want to get Will involved.”
“But he already is,” Tristan argued. “He knows about me. He took you to the train station to help you remember what happened.”
“That’s as far as it goes,” Ivy said. “I don’t want you to tell him anything else.” She started sorting through the costumes, shaking them out, then folding them.
“You’re protecting him,” Tristan said.
“That’s right.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Why put someone else in danger?” she replied.
“Will would put himself in any kind of danger for you. He’s in love with you.” As soon as Tristan said it he wished that he hadn’t.
But certainly Ivy had already figured that out. Maybe not, he thought suddenly. He felt her struggling. He was caught in a swirl of emotions that he couldn’t understand. He knew she was confused.
“I don’t think so,” Ivy said. “Will’s a friend, that’s all.”
Kissed by an Angel/The Power of Love/Soulmates Page 34
