I look up, heart in my throat, and I stare at my reflection in the mirror in the department store window. But...I'm not properly reflected in that mirror, it seems.
I'm afraid right now, fear scorching through my veins like fire. But the Josie in that mirror doesn't look afraid at all. She's sneering angrily, snidely. Bitterness exudes from her narrowed eyes, from her frowning mouth.
“What's the matter?” she repeats, lifting her chin and smiling. The smile doesn't reach her eyes. “Why aren't you ridiculously happy? I mean, isn't this exactly what you wanted?”
I lick my dry lips, stare wide-eyed at my reflection. “What are you talking about?” I ask her, taking a deep breath as the sob wells up within me; I swallow it down and draw in another deep breath.
“Why aren't you happy?” she repeats snidely. “This is what you've always wanted,” she tells me, gesturing to indicate the empty streets and buildings, to indicate a world completely devoid of people. She folds her arms in front of her, lifts her chin defiantly. “You wanted to be alone, so now you've got your wish. Now no one will bother you ever again. Why doesn't that make you happy?” she asks me, shaking her head with an exaggerated frown.
“What?” I gasp, pressing my fingers to the store window as the Josie in the mirror sits back on her heels, grinning smugly at me. “You're crazy. This isn't what I wanted—” I begin to argue, but the other-me crows, throwing back her head and laughing so loudly and harshly that I flinch.
“You're kidding me,” she snarls. “After what you did to your sister? Like you deserve anything better. That's what you've done all this time, isn't it? Pushed everyone away?”
My heart's in my throat, and I find I can't swallow the lump there. I take a deep breath, feel hot tears pouring down my cheeks. “I...” I don't know what else to say.
“Sarcastic Josie. Josie with the awesome radio show, Josie who's got it all together never needs to let anyone in. She's got it all figured out, all by herself,” my reflection tells me, her head to the side as she gives me another grotesque frown. “But that wasn't the real reason you didn't let anyone close to you, why you don't have friends? You know why. You don't deserve it.”
Every word is razor sharp as she snarls at me.
“That's not...that's not true,” I tell her weakly, but my tone sounds like I'm lying.
“So, now look,” she says, holding out her arms and raising her eyes to the empty buildings surrounding us. “Now you have your perfect, empty world. There's no one to bother you, no one to get close to you. No one to touch you or connect with you. No one at all but you and me. An eternity of being alone. Exactly what you wanted.”
I stand up, press my hands to my ears. “I don't want this,” I whimper, but my reflection is laughing too hard for me to be heard.
I take a step back from the reflection, and another, and another. I'm standing in the middle of the street, my heart breaking inside of me, because I know she's right. I know I don't deserve anything. I know it's my fault that my sister died; I know I don't deserve anything better than...
Eyes squeezed tightly shut, for a brief, tiny flicker...I think about my sister.
I think about Ellie's smiling face. I think about her laughter. I think about Ellie so hard, that—for a moment—I thought I heard...
“Josie?”
My arms fall to my sides, as—tears pouring down my cheeks—I look up.
And Ellie's there. She's here.
She's standing in the center of the street in her favorite cat pajamas. She looks perplexed as she glances around the street at the empty cars and buildings—but then she sees me.
And the way her expression changes, the way she smiles...it lights up the dark world.
“Josie,” she says softly, and she holds out her arms. “Josie,” she says again, the word soft and sweet as she shakes her head. “Stop this,” she tells me. “Stop this right now.”
“No,” I tell her, the ache unfurling deeper in my heart. “I'm right. I don't deserve anything. I don't deserve happiness. I don't deserve being close to anyone because I'll hurt them, just like I hurt you. I need to be alone. It's what I've always wanted,” I tell her, curling my arms around myself and turning to leave. Turning to walk back down the empty streets toward my empty apartment in my empty building in my empty city.
Everything's exactly the way I wanted it to be. My reflection was right. This is all I've ever wanted.
“Josie,” my sister whispers.
I stop.
Somewhere, far down the street, I see something silver moving, something big, something glowing softly with silver light...
I turn.
Ellie's there, her arms out to me, her jaw set in determination. “No one's to blame for the night I died. Not you. Not me. Not anyone. It was a mistake. Do you understand me?” she asks, every word firm and immovable.
“That's a lie,” I tell her quietly. “We both know that if I'd never—”
“I'm the one who took my underage sister drinking,” says Ellie succinctly, one brow up. “Ted's the guy who gave us the drinks, knowing you were underage. Aaron's the guy who let us leave the party, knowing you were smashed. I let you get behind the wheel of the car, knowing I shouldn't. You've got to stop blaming—”
“No one else was behind that wheel of the car, Ellie. No one but me,” I tell her, a sob rising in my throat. “You're dead because of me.”
Ellie crosses the space between us. She curls her fingers around my shoulders, and then, gently, she shakes me three times. “Josie,” she tells me, her eyes fiercely burning as she holds my gaze. “You're my little sister, and I love you. I've never stopped loving you. And love is all that's important. Do you understand me?”
I watch her carefully, taking deep breaths, feeling my world fall away from me.
“You don't have to be alone anymore,” says Ellie, shaking me gently again. “But you have to decide that you don't deserve to be alone. I can't make you believe that. No one can. No one...but you.” She takes a step back, holds out her arms, holding them out to the empty street and city. “You can change this, Josie,” she whispers.
And then, Ellie disappears.
I glance sidelong at my reflection in the window. My reflection has her arms crossed, her head to the side. She's watching me with predatory eyes, a cold, calculating gaze that makes me shiver.
“You know what you deserve,” my reflection tells me in a low growl.
I take another deep breath, my hands curling into fists at my sides.
And then, in that instant, something shifts inside of me. And then I turn around. I walk back the way I came. I put one foot in front of the other, walking down the empty, echoing street.
I close my eyes, lift my chin.
“Hello?” I call, my voice shaking. “Is anyone there?”
“There's no one there!” my reflection shrieks after me. “You're alone because that's what you deserve!”
“Hello?” I call again, my voice louder, stronger. I break out into a trot, my heart pumping behind my ribs as I take deep gulps of warm air. “Is anyone there?”
My boots click against the pavement as I race along the street. Race like I'm flying, the buildings blurring around me as I run.
“Hello?” I call again. I careen to a stop, breathing hard, looking up at the empty buildings, stretching away from me.
There's pure silence, pure, heavy silence, and nothing besides.
“I don't want this!” I shout at the buildings, at the cars, at the city. At a silent Boston. “I don't want to be alone anymore,” I yell, closing my eyes tightly and tensing my body.
And then I hold my breath.
And I listen.
Far, far ahead of me down the street moves a shadow, a shadow attached to a glowing, silver hulk of an animal...an animal that trundles slowly through the city. A silver bear.
“Josie?” comes a voice, a voice I recognize.
I glance over my shoulder, my heart in my throat.
And there, sta
nding on the empty streets of Boston, in full armor, her dark red hair blowing in a soft wind, her single brow artfully raised...
Is Attis.
---
“Josie?”
I open my eyes, my breath rushing through me. I'm so cold. Why am I so cold?
Oh. Because I'm in a tent. At night. And it's freezing out.
That's the first thing I realize. But then I open my eyes a little more, and I realize that Attis is there, lying next to me. She's rolled over, actually...
And she's above me, leaning on her elbow on the ground, brows narrowed in concern as she stares down at me. Her warm hands are on my shoulders, and when I look her in the eyes, she sighs with relief.
“You were having a bad dream,” she tells me softly.
Yes.
A very bad dream.
And it's over now.
“Attis,” I tell her, rising up onto my elbows so that our faces are close. My blood roars through me, from the adrenaline of the dream, from the adrenaline of my decision. For the first time in forever, I'm calmly focused. The bitterness in my heart fades away like smoke. “Attis, I'm sorry—I should have told you about the bear. I should have—” I begin, but then tears are falling down my cheeks, and as she gazes down at me, her face softening, I no longer care about shoulds or should-nots or obligations or responsibilities or different worlds.
All I care about is the fact that, out of all the places in the universe I could have landed, when I fell through an impossible portal...
I landed here. On top of her. Out of all the people and beings in this whole big universe, she was there. She was there to catch me. And over and over again, since we've met, she's caught me.
Attis has been there. Attis with her warm smile that's hard earned, but—when it happens—it's brighter than a heaven full of stars.
I stare up at her, up into her warm, amber eyes, eyes that are so hard to see in the dark, but eyes that I've memorized. I can make out that she has one brow raised, that she stares down at me, her face softening by degrees.
Her mouth turns up at the corners then, just a little...just a tiny, tiny bit that—if I wasn't looking for that hint of a smile—I never would have seen it.
And I know I have to do this. And that I have to do this now.
So I tilt my head back, and I capture her mouth with a kiss.
For a long moment, it's all sweetness and gentle surrender. Me, surrendering to my need for her, and her surrendering to my kiss, her warm mouth open and inviting as she lets me in. But Attis strikes me as the type of person who never surrenders to anything. She conquers everything, instead.
Just like she conquers me now.
Attis gently curls her arm under my neck and around my shoulders, pulling me tightly to her as her other hand drifts down my body, making me shiver in delight, until she cups her fingers around the curve of my hipbone and tugs me even closer to her. She devours me utterly, her mouth over mine, both of us merging together as she tastes me, as her tongue meets my tongue. Again, I moan against her, because I can't stop that gesture of need, of desire, that roars through me, as my center wakes up instantly, as every inch of my body begins to come alive.
Invisible sparks are dancing over my skin, and, God, I want this. I want her. I don't deserve to be alone. I know that now. I know it like I know that I was meant to come through that portal. That I was meant to meet Attis.
A long time ago, I used to believe in fate, in destiny. That was before Ellie died. After her death, I closed off everything inside of me but the bitterness at myself, my anger at myself. I stopped believing in everything, started to think that anyone who believed in anything was narrow-minded, foolish...kind of stupid.
But I find myself believing in something again. I believe I was meant to meet Attis, believe that fact utterly. Actually, I don't believe it.
I know.
I know I was meant to meet her.
Attis rises to her hands and knees, moving over me in a swift, fluid motion. She shifts over my leg, rising over me, between my legs, her face a tantalizing few inches from my own.
I watch as emotion clouds her eyes. As her jaw clenches. “Josie,” she growls softly, gently, then, her eyes darkening with desire as she takes me in, the fact that I'm panting and desperate with want. “I want this,” she whispers, dipping low and brushing her lips to the hot skin of my neck, making me arch beneath her. “But,” she whispers against my ear, her mouth warm, “I want this to mean something.”
“Oh, God, Attis,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her and drawing her down to me so that she lies on top of me. I hold her tightly, her cheek pressed against my cheek, her mouth against my mouth, and I draw in a deep breath that ends with a single tear falling from my right eye, trailing down the side of my face. “You don't know...” I take in another deep, aching breath and swallow a sob. “You don't know how much this means. Yes, this means something,” I whisper to her. She shifts over me, rising up on her hands again as she stares into my eyes intensely. “You don't know,” I whisper, reaching up and threading my hand through her hair, letting the silk of it drift over my fingers as I shiver, “how much you mean to me.”
Attis shuts her eyes, her jaw tightening again as she stays still for a very long moment, still over me, against me, on me. I can see the war that's taking place, shadows of it sweeping over her face as she thinks long and hard for that excruciating heartbeat.
I wait. I hold my breath, my heart rising in me, ready to fall to pieces, ready to break as I wait...hoping...wishing with all my might...
Attis opens her eyes, gazing down at me with such a softening to her jaw, her brow. Her warm, golden eyes soften at the edges, too, and then her gaze darkens as she looks down at me again.
“I want to remember this moment forever,” she breathes, as she lowers her beautiful face to mine, as she drifts her warm mouth over the curve of my chin, down my neck, making me gasp beneath her as I wrap my fingers in her hair, as I press her against me. “I want to remember everything,” she whispers, as her fingers find the hem of my shirt, as her warm fingers find the skin of my stomach beneath the fabric.
I gasp against her as she traces a teasing line up my stomach, around to my side, and then around my right breast. She presses her mouth against me, all warmth and heat and soft aggression as she tastes me, drinking me deep as her hand finds my breast, presses her palm against it, cupping it, teasing my nipple with a fingernail, and then rolling it between her thumb and finger.
It's been such a long time since I've been with anyone...but it's not that. As Attis arches over me, as she touches me, gently at first, and then as I respond with moans and hitches of breath, as she begins to learn the map of my body, I feel it. I feel it unfurling inside of me so clearly, it's almost a physical sensation as I stare up at this beautiful woman, touching me like I'm precious.
I'm falling in love with her.
Attis crouches on her elbow over me, dragging her fingernails down lightly over my stomach, into the waistband of my pants, gently dipping them down to smooth the skin there with such light fingertips that I shiver against her. She tugs my pants down, over my hips with determined movements, pulling me up to sitting as she pulls the shirt up and over my head.
I sit, completely naked in front of her, placing my weight back on my hands as I feel the blush rise. I'm so exposed, so utterly vulnerable as she sits back on her heels between my knees, staring down at me, her eyes seeming to spark with desire in the dark. The sheer exhilaration of feeling so exposed to someone so extraordinary is such a rare, foreign thing, that—for a moment—I want to reach forward and cover my breasts with my arms: it's too much, too raw, too vulnerable. But I take a deep breath; I gather every last bit of courage I possess as her eyes rake over my body, as I sit in front of her, my heart open to her.
Attis makes a growl of pleasure deep in her throat, arranging her legs fluidly into a cross-legged position as she grips my hips and draws me up, onto her lap, my legs hooking around he
r waist. She pulls me up and onto her.
She's wearing her leather breeches and poet's shirt, still fully clothed, as I straddle her lap, deliciously naked against her. I gasp as her mouth finds my right breast, as she takes my nipple into her mouth, flicking her tongue against it and pressing it against her teeth. I throw back my head as her fingers find my other breast, as it's cupped and teased, her arm folded around my waist and pressing me to her like she's never going to let go.
But then that hand drifts down, down, fingernails dancing over my skin as I arch against her, whimpering, my fingers gripping her shoulders so tightly, I'm surprised my nails aren't drawing blood. Her hand drifts, maddeningly light and caressing, down my middle, over my stomach, and then, then...
God, when her fingers move over the hot skin of my thigh, turning to smooth a thumb over my center, I jolt against her, the roar of pleasure so intense as it pours through me. She flicks her thumb again, over my clit, and I whimper against her, throwing back my head as she drifts a wet trail of kisses up from my breast to my neck, where she nips my skin to redness, her teeth leaving a trail of red, her tongue laving my skin as I press my hips against her hand, desperate for her to touch me more, more, desperate for her fingers to curl up inside of me.
And they do now. She chuckles in a low growl against my throat, and then her fingers are curling up inside of me, and with short, hard strokes, questing harder and further into me. They draw me closer to her, closer to her so that every inch of my skin is pressed against her, so that everything that I am is now merged with her. She seems to know every part of me, what I need and what I want, all mixing into one as she draws a hiss out of me, a cry of desperation. My legs are spread so wide and I am so open to her that, when she lightly bites my neck, then, her other arm wrapped tightly around me, holding me like she'll never let go, her thumb against my clit, and her fingers curving inside of me, it's all too much, too wonderful. Too perfect.
Release spreads through me like an exploding star, all splendor and waves of pleasure as she rocks her hips against mine, her fingers drawing out moment after moment of whimpered cries, of sweet bliss as my orgasm shakes me to my very core. I collapse against her, my head on her shoulder as I try to take deep, quavering breaths, my hands shaking as I reach tentative fingers up to curl around a strand of her silken hair, letting the dark red of it drift over my skin like I'd been imagining. Like I'd been wanting.
Forever and a Knight Page 19
