She moaned again. “We should really go inside.”
He relented long enough to get the door open, accidentally mashing the button on the tiny LED flashlight she kept on the ring for when the stairwell light burned out. They were shedding clothes as the door closed, beginning with their shoes.
“Shower?” He whispered it as he kissed his way down her neck and across her collarbone.
“Bed first. I want a shower but I think I want you more right now.”
They kissed and undressed in the ten steps across the main room to the threshold of the bedroom. There was a step, which she stumbled against. He caught her and they both laughed and fell into bed together. He reached over to turn the lamp on next to the bed. “I want to see you.”
She growled and flipped over on top of him.
She was glad her neighbors seemed to be heavy sleepers.
Milo was snoring softly. Jo got up, trying not to wake him. She needed to pee and she still needed a shower. It was raining hard outside and water drummed against the terra cotta shingles and echoed up to bounce off the courtyard walls. She walked naked to the bathroom and grabbed her towel off the back of the door. She started the shower to let it warm up while she used the toilet. Steam filled the tiny room, fogging the mirror. She stepped under the water with her head back to wet her hair, humming a few lines from “Time Bomb.” Where had that come from?
She would have stood there for another ten minutes after rinsing off, but the water heater in the apartment was the size of a toaster. She turned off the tap and grabbed her towel from the sink to dry her arms and torso and legs. She paused to wipe a swath on the mirror with the edge of the towel so she could see to floss and brush her teeth, then bent over facing the sink to wrap her hair.
She straightened up and looked into the mirror and gasped when she saw behind her a delicate white face framed in neon blue hair.
Maja.
She turned; no one was behind her. The temperature in the bathroom had dropped, and she had gooseflesh up her arms. This was not good. Not good at all. She wrapped her robe around herself and tied it with trembling hands. Should she wake up Vesna, or Milo? Which would be willing to follow her out into the city at one in the morning? More importantly, which of them would require the least explanation?
She shoved her feet into her clogs and dashed across to Vesna’s apartment. When the bell didn’t work she knocked quietly. Nothing but a loud meow from behind the door. She was about to knock again when the door opened. Vesna looked concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, because you’re half dressed and knocking on my door in the middle of the night?” Vesna looked over Jo’s head. “Wait. Did you see Helena again?”
“No.” She hesitated to say it out loud: that would make it real, or at least closer to real. “I think I saw Maja.”
Vesna’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Blue hair.”
Vesna nodded. “What do you want to do?”
“Go to her apartment and check on her.” Adrenaline ebbing, Jo was feeling the cold.
“Now?”
“Yes. Either she’s there and fine, or she’s not and something bad has happened.” Or Jo was just batshit. That was definitely a possibility.
“Okay. Give me five minutes.” Vesna nodded and closed the door.
Jo opened the wardrobe as slowly as she could but the door creaked anyway. She pulled out some jeans and a sweater and closed it again. Milo stirred, then sat up and turned the light on.
“Where are you going?”
“Out. I need… I need to check on something downstairs.”
“Now?”
She nodded and pulled the sweater over her head.
Vesna knocked on the door.
He cocked his head at her. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Vesna.” She pulled her hair back and wound the elastic from her wrist around the ponytail.
He got up and walked past her to answer the door. Naked.
“Jesus, Milo, put some clothes on first.”
He scooped his jeans off the futon and stepped into them commando. Vesna came through the door before he got them up.
Usually her friend would have been embarrassed, but she picked up the first t-shirt she saw on the futon and threw it at him. “Jesus, Milo, put some clothes on.”
Milo laughed. “You two have known each other a long time.” He pulled the t-shirt over his head. “Now, which one of you is going to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Vesna looked at Jo and then launched into a completely boldfaced lie. “I had this awful dream that something had happened to Maja. And I know I won’t be able to sleep unless I go check on her. I didn’t want to go alone, so I woke up Jo.”
“Does Maja not have a phone?” Milo looked at Vesna and back at Jo. Clearly he thought they were smarter than that.
“I tried calling. No answer.” Vesna shoved her phone in her pocket. Jo knew she hadn’t made that part up.
“If you two are determined, I’m going with you.” He picked up his sweater from the floor and pulled it on over the t-shirt.
“You really don’t need to do that.” Jo walked past him to stand next to Vesna inside the door.
“Yes. I do. Remember? I’m not supposed to be here if you’re not here?”
Jo rolled her eyes. It was impossible to argue that point given how many times she’d thrown it at him.
The three of them walked through the quiet streets to Trnovo, Milo grousing at the cold and rain and at the ridiculousness of going to check on a grown woman in the middle of the night. He might have been less miserable if he’d had a raincoat.
“Seriously, Vesna, how bad was this dream?” He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his jeans and bowed his head against the drizzle.
She shook her head like she was trying to shake away the memory of the dream. “Just terrible.”
When they got to the apartment building, Jo realized she had no idea which flat was Maja’s. Vesna signed the paychecks so she led them up to the first floor. Milo and Vesna stood shoulder to shoulder behind Jo and she knocked.
Nothing.
She knocked again louder.
The door to the next apartment opened. An elderly man poked his head out the door. “What do you want? Those girls are never home.”
Vesna stepped toward him. “You haven’t seen them all day?”
“Am I their keeper?” He slammed the door and Jo could hear him stomping back through his flat.
“I guess it’s no picnic living in a building full of students.” Milo shrugged. “Can we all go back to bed now?” He rubbed his hands together and shoved them back into his pockets.
“Let’s stop by the blue bar and see if she’s at work.” Jo walked between them and headed back down the stairs. She could practically hear Milo rolling his eyes at her.
“The blue bar?” His question trailed after her.
“Spotlight,” Vesna said. “Maja’s second job. Jo can never remember the name of it.”
They walked back to the old town and crossed the river at the Shoemaker’s Bridge. Jo looked out over the water. Even in the dark, it looked like chocolate milk rushing under their feet. There was no calming force in the churned up depths, but something was there, and that something made her feel like the river was watching her.
“Hey, Jo. Let’s get on with it.” Milo nudged her with his shoulder.
She walked on, unable to shake the sense of something sentient in the river, waiting.
The blue bar was closed. She’d forgotten that on weeknights they were only open until one. Should’ve gone there first.
“Look. She’s probably at some club and can’t hear her phone, or it’s dead.” Milo put his arm ar
ound Vesna’s shoulders and squeezed her. “You can tell her in the morning how worried you were.”
Jo peered into the darkened bar. Maybe Milo was right. Maybe it had been some other random shade trying to get in touch with her. Shit, if she were Maja’s age, she’d probably be out at a club, too.
“You’re probably right.” She turned and walked past her friends. A flashing image of the muddy river rising up over the embankment to carry her away stopped her before she stepped onto the bridge. Great. Now she was hearing voices and seeing anthropomorphic rivers.
Jo and Milo sat in silence on the futon after Vesna left. Her head was churning. Questions about Maja tumbled through her mind along with prayers to whoever, or whatever, might be listening, that the pale face framed in wet, blue hair peering from her mirror was something she’d imagined. When Milo stood and offered her his hand, she took it and he lead her back to the bedroom.
He pulled her into a bear hug at the foot of the bed and rested his chin on the top of her head. “You’re a little crazy, you know that right?”
She stiffened.
He laughed and pulled back to look her in the face. “I’m just kidding. Are you okay?”
“I guess. Maybe worried a bit.”
“Because of Vesna’s dream? Is she a prophet or something.”
She wouldn’t wish any of this bizarre paranormal crap on her worst enemy, let alone her best friend.
“I think maybe you should have taken some time off. You don’t have to always be the tough-as-nails punk chick you know.”
She pulled back and looked him in the face. “Is that how you see me?”
“Why do I feel like that’s a trick question?” He hugged her back to him and put his chin back on the top of her head. “Yes. When I first met you. I know better now. You’ve got a soft center like the rest of us mortals.”
His heart raced in his chest under her cheek.
“Let’s get some sleep.” He untangled from her and undressed on the opposite side of the bed.
Sleep was the last thing she wanted. It was the closest thing to being alone. She slid next to him under the duvet and wrapped her leg over his hips and her arm across his chest, settling herself under his arm. She brushed the backs of her nails down his stomach to just below his navel.
“I don’t think I can possibly sleep.” She felt a pang of guilt at using him for the distraction of sex.
He lifted his head to look at her. “Really, now?”
“Mmm.” She moved her leg and ran her hand down his body, digging her nails in lightly on the inside of his thigh.
He moaned in response. He turned on his side to face her then gently pushed her flat onto her back and slid his slender body between her legs. He kissed down across her belly, teasing her.
He whispered softly against her skin, “How do you still smell like cookies?”
She woke to a small brown bird twittering at her window. She thought she saw a long blue hair in its beak, material for the nest it had started on the deep sill outside. She stood up and crouched at the window to examine the bird more closely.
It was only thread, but that didn’t make her feel less guilty. She’d spent the dark hours fucking Milo’s brains out. How had Maja spent the dark hours? Had they still been hers to spend? She resisting the thought that Maja could be dead. What could’ve happened to her? Who could want to hurt her? And what duty did Jo have to the dead who came to her?
Jesus, she really needed to talk to Jackie.
Milo had stirred when she’d gotten up, then settled back into sleep. He looked completely at peace curled around the warm spot in the bed where she had been.
Would she ever be able to sleep like that again?
She walked to the wardrobe to get a robe. The silk was cold as it settled around her. She tied the belt and padded softly into the kitchen to make coffee as quietly as possible.
No visitors, please. She needed some caffeine first.
Milo got up. She must have made more noise than she thought.
He walked up behind her as she was pushing the plunger down in the French press, and untied her robe. He turned her to face him, pressing her ass into the countertop behind her. “You were even more amazing than usual last night.”
She tied her robe back together and kissed him chastely on the cheek.
He looked disappointed. “Not up for an encore this morning?”
“You…” She laid her hand on his chest. “You are always a temptation. Especially rubbed up against me all naked.” She kissed him squarely on the mouth to soften the blow. “But I’m way too deep into my head this morning to be much fun.” She ducked under his arm and turned to get mugs from the cupboard.
He didn’t push. He retreated to the bedroom and came back wearing another of her robes, a deep blue silk one patterned with images of white paper cranes. He looked better in it than she did. She handed him a cup of coffee and brought the milk and sugar to the table.
“Toast?”
“Sure. Do you still have some of that apple butter stuff?” She made tons of it for the shop but kept her own stash squirreled away in the flat, and had happily passed her addiction on to Milo.
She assembled a stack of toasted bread and all the accompaniments, carried the tray to the table and sat down opposite Milo. She slathered a piece of toast with butter and lifted it to take a bite. Her teeth were halfway through the toast when he thoroughly ruined her morning.
“Jo, you know I’m not actually seeing anyone else.”
She completed the bite and looked up at him. “What?” she said around a mouthful of toast.
“I’m in love with you.”
A gulp of coffee helped the toast go down. She set down her mug and stared at him. He was still speaking.
“I know you don’t believe in love–”
She interrupted him. “I do believe in love. I know it exists. I just…It’s not my thing.”
“I know.”
She smiled sadly at him. Her heart was breaking a little. “I care for you. As more than a friend…I mean last night…What we have…It’s important to me.” Shit. The words she had to say would be worse for him if he really did love her.
He tried to help her finish her thought. “But you can’t give me what you think I want.”
She sighed heavily. “What do you want?”
“More mornings like this. More nights like last night. Well, minus roaming around in the rain in the middle of the night.” He chuckled.
“I can give you that.” She smiled at him and looked down into her coffee cup. She was pretty fond of those things, too. She waited for him to speak again.
“And everything else. And for all that not to change you.”
She cocked her head at him. Already she was more changed than he could possibly know.
“The Jo that I am completely, stupidly, in love with exists because you don’t belong to anyone else but you.”
“What about this woman you’ve been seeing?”
“I made her up. I was afraid you’d get spooked if you thought I was only seeing you.”
She looked down into her coffee again as if some universal truth about the capriciousness of human hearts might be floating around with the milk. Milo knew her better than she’d thought. “I want to say I’m sorry, but that sounds incredibly cheap somehow.”
“I’m not telling you to make you feel guilty.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because last night while I was sitting on your stairs watching you take the trash out, I was thinking about telling you I couldn’t see you anymore. You would’ve chalked it up to me falling for my imaginary girlfriend and never been the wiser.”
“But?”
“But then there you are, smelling like a bakery, willing to entertain your friend’s crazy goose chase, and I thought I could
be willing to be with you on your terms.”
“And this morning?”
“It’s not enough.” He didn’t look away. There was a whole speech he wasn’t making, but she could see it in his face. “We’re friends who fuck. That’s great but, I–” He looked down, then back up at her, resolved. “I want more than that. I want a life with you.”
Her heart was breaking for him. There was no way she could continue with him now. It would be monumentally unfair to trail him on, letting him think she would change.
She stood up and walked to his side of the table and pulled him up. She led him back to the bedroom. He stopped her and looked into her face with a question etched on his.
“For goodbye,” she said.
Chapter 10
Jo wasn’t thrilled to be alone in the apartment after Milo left, but Leonard singing “Hallelujah” at the top of her speakers’ range might be enough to keep at bay anything that had a message for her. She wanted to shower and get dressed and out onto the cobblestones of Ljubljana, out into the world of living, breathing people. People who mostly didn’t know her, and who wouldn’t be in love with her if they did. She needed to see Vesna. She needed to go to church, apparently. Then she needed to Skype Jackie.
She stood in the shower until the water was cold. She could still feel Milo’s warm hands and mouth on her skin. She would miss him, but ending it was best for both of them. She didn’t want to be a source of pain to him, didn’t want to invite feelings of resentment on his part and guilt on hers that pity sex was all she could give him. Maybe those lonely housewives in science fiction novels with their android lovers were on to something. Maybe robot sex was too gross to think about. Maybe she just needed to take a break from other people.
Leonard had moved on to “Who by Fire” by the time she stepped out of the bathroom. She’d always thought the song should start with who by water. Drowning was infinitely more terrifying to her than burning. Either way, the last thing she needed at this moment was a rundown of all the ways people she loved could die. Skipped. “First We Take Manhattan” made a better background for toweling her hair and layering on her shield of clothing for the day. She was halfway into a black ballet dress when Vesna’s usual three light knocks sounded at the door.
Who By Water (Voices of the Dead Book 1) Page 11
