Ivy shrugged. "Just gave me a little advice."
"Don't tell me-she got another one of her premonitions."
Ivy remained silent.
Suzanne laughed. "You've got to admit, Ivy, Beth's flaky. I never take her 'advice' seriously. You shouldn't, either."
"I haven't so far," Ivy said. And both times, she thought, I've been sorry I didn't.
Chapter 2
"Yo! Romeo! Where art thou? Rooo-me-ooo," Lacey called.
Tristan, who had been following Ivy down the wide center stair of the Baines home, stopped at the landing and stuck his head out an open window.
Lacey smiled up at him from the middle of a flower bed, the only piece of Andrew Baines's property that hadn't been overrun by the hundreds of guests with their picnic blankets and baskets. A Caribbean steel band was warming up on the patio. Paper lanterns hung from the pines around the tennis court; beneath them tables were laid out with refreshments.
Long before Tristan met Ivy, long before Andrew surprised everyone by marrying Maggie, Tristan had come to this annual party. He remembered how huge the white clapboard home had seemed to him as a little boy, with its east and west wings and double chimneys and rows of heavy black shutters-like a house that would be pictured in his mother's New England calendar.
"Ditch the chick, Romeo," Lacey called up to him. "You're missing a great party. Especially under some of the bushes."
Even now, after two and a half months of being an angel, Tristan's first instinct was to quiet her. But no one else could hear them, except when Lacey chose to project her voice, a power he hadn't yet mastered.
He gave her a lopsided smile, then withdrew from the window. At the same moment that Tristan turned back toward the stairs, Ivy stopped and turned toward the window.
Instantly he began hoping. She senses something, he thought.
But Ivy looked right through him, then without hesitation moved past him.
She leaned upon the sill of the window, gazing wistfully at the scene before her. Tristan stood beside her and watched as torches were lit, flaring up suddenly in the summer twilight.
Ivy turned her head, and Tristan did, too, following her gaze to Will, who was standing at the edge of the crowd, surveying it. Suddenly Will looked up, meeting Ivy's eyes. Tristan knew what Will saw: brilliant green eyes and a tumbleweed of blond hair falling over her shoulders.
Ivy looked down at Will for what seemed like forever, then stepped back abruptly, her hands going up to her cheeks. Tristan pulled back just as fast. Take a picture, Will, it lasts longer, he thought, then quickly descended the steps.
Lacey was waiting on the patio, amusing herself by hitting the drummer's cymbal every time he turned his back. Of course, the drummer didn't see her, not even the purple shimmer that some believers glimpsed.
She winked at Tristan.
"I'm not here to fool around," he said.
"Okay, sweetie, let's get down to business," Lacey said, giving him a little push. Though they could slip through other people's bodies, they appeared and felt solid to each other.
"I want to show you someone who's gulping down drinks over by the tennis court," Lacey told him, but first she headed for Philip's tree house. She simply couldn't resist the opportunity to knock away the tree's swing seat when a girl in a pink sundress tried to sit on it.
"Lacey, act your age."
"I will," she said, "just as soon as you decide to act like an angel."
"Seems to me I am," he said.
She shook her head. Her purple spiked hair, like his own thick brown crop, did not move with the breeze.
"Repeat after me," Lacey instructed in an obnoxious teacher voice. "Ivy's breathing, Will's breathing, I'm not."
"It's just that she looked straight at me at the train station," Tristan said. "I was sure she believed‚again.
When I pulled her and Philip back, I was sure Ivy saw me."
"If she did, she's forgotten it," Lacey said.
"I have to get her to remember. Beth-" "Is feeling too rattled to help you out," Lacey cut in. "She predicted the break-in, then foresaw danger that night at the train station. She has a special gift, but she's too frightened to be an open channel anymore."
"Then Philip."
"Philip! Oh, puh-lease. How long do you think Gregory's going to put up with the kid who keeps talking about angel Tristan?"
Tristan knew she was right.
"That leaves Will," Lacey said. She walked backward and pointed a long purple nail at him. "So. Just how jealous are you?"
"Very," he replied honestly, then sighed. "You know how you feel about the actress who took your place in that film, the one you said stinks?"
"She does stink," Lacey said quickly.
"Multiply that feeling by a thousand. And the thing is, Will's not a bad guy. He'd be good for Ivy, and all I want is what's good for Ivy. I love her. I'd do anything for her-" "Die, for instance," Lacey said. "But you've already tried that, and look where it got you."
Tristan grimaced. "Time with you."
She grinned, then nudged him. "Look over there. Next to the lady who looks like she got her perm and cut at the poodle parlor. Recognize him?"
"It's Caroline's friend," Tristan said, observing the tall dark-haired man. "The one who leaves roses on her grave."
"He creamed Andrew at tennis and looked like he enjoyed every minute of it."
"Did you find out his name?" Tristan asked.
"Tom Stetson. He's a teacher at Andrew's college. I tell you, who needs soap operas when you can hang around Stone hill? Do you think it was a long, torrid, secret affair? Do you think Andrew knew? Yo, Tristan!"
"I hear you," he said, but his eyes were focused on the crowd twenty feet away, where Ivy, Will, and Beth were talking.
"Oh, the" arrows of love,"Lacey crooned. He hated it when she exaggerated her words like that. "I swear, Tristan, that girl's put so many holes in you, one day you're going to fold over like a slice of Swiss cheese."
He grimaced.
"It's pathetic, the way you look at her with those big puppy dog eyes.
She doesn't even see you. I just hope that one day-" "Know what I hope, Lacey?" Tristan asked, swinging around to her. "I hope you fall in love."
Lacey blinked with surprise.
"I hope you fall in love with a guy who looks right past you."
Lacey looked away.
"And I hope you do it soon, before I finish my mission," Tristan went on.
"I want to be around to make lots of jokes about it."
He expected Lacey to make a snappy comeback, but she kept her eyes away from him, watching Ivy's cat, Ella, who had followed them through the crowd.
"I can't wait till the day," Tristan continued, "that Lacey Lovitt falls in love with some guy beyond her reach."
"What makes you think I haven't?" she muttered, then crouched down to scratch Ella. She petted the cat for several minutes.
After two years of procrastinating on her own mission, Lacey had developed more endurance and more powers than Tristan. He knew that she could keep the tips of her fingers materialized to scratch the cat much longer than he.
"Come on, Ella," Lacey said softly, and Tristan saw the cat's ears prick.
Lacey was projecting her voice.
Ella followed Lacey, and Tristan followed Ella to a refreshment table.
Eric and Gregory were standing there. Eric was arguing with Gregory and the bartender, trying to convince them to give him a beer.
Lacey gave Ella a nudge, and the cat leaped up lightly on the table. The three guys didn't notice her.
"A bowl of milk, please."
"Just a minute, miss," the bartender said, turning away from Gregory and Eric. His eyes widened as they fell upon Ella.
Ella winked.
The bartender turned back to the boys. "Did you hear that?"
"Milk, and hurry it up, please."
Now Eric and the bartender stared at the cat Gregory craned his neck to glance behind
Eric. "What's the problem?" he said impatiently. "Just fix an iced tea."
"I prefer milk."
The bartender lowered his face to Ella's. She meowed at him and leaped down from the table. Lacey snickered, but she had stopped projecting her voice, and only Tristan could hear her now.
The bartender, his brow still furrowed, poured the iced tea for Eric.
Then Gregory flicked his head to the right, and he and Eric started off in that direction. Tristan trailed them as they wove their way through the crowd and beyond it, to the stone wall that marked the edge of the property.
Far below them was the tiny train station and the track that hugged the river. Even Tristan could hardly believe that he and Philip had made it down this side of the ridge. It was steep and rocky, with little to cling to but narrow stone ledges and an occasional shrub or dwarfed tree.
"No way," Gregory muttered to himself. "That kid's lying to me, covering up. Who's in with him?"
"Just let me know when you're talking to me," Eric said cheerfully.
Gregory glanced at him.
"You've been doing it a lot lately, talking to yourself," Eric grinned, "or maybe to the angels."
"Screw the angels," Gregory said.
Eric laughed. "Yeah, well, maybe you should start praying to them. You've gotten yourself in deep, Gregory." His face grew serious, his eyes narrowing. "Real deep. And you're getting me in with you."
"You idiot! You're getting yourself in. You're always high-and you're always messing up. I'm asking you one more time, where're the clothes?"
"I'm telling you one more time, I don't have them."
"I want the cap and the jacket," Gregory said. "And you're going to find them for me, because if you don't, Jimmy's not getting the money you owe." Gregory tilted back his head. "And you know what that means.
You know how touchy those dealers can be when they don't get their money."
Eric's mouth twitched. Without alcohol he could not stand up to Gregory.
"I'm sick of it," he whined. "I'm sick of doing your dirty work."
He started to walk away, but Gregory yanked him back by the arm. "But you'll do it, won't you? And you'll keep quiet about things, because you need me. You need your fix."
Eric struggled weakly. "Let me go. Someone's watching."
"Gregory loosened his grip and looked around. Eric quickly stepped out of his reach. "Be careful, Gregory," he warned. "I can feel them watching."
Gregory arched his eyebrows and began to laugh menacingly. Even when Eric was out of sight, he continued to chuckle.
Lacey wriggled her shoulders. "Major creepo," she said.
They watched as Gregory worked his way back into the party, talking and smiling at the guests.
"What do you think Eric's dirty work was?" Lacey asked Tristan. "Knocking off Caroline? Cutting your brake line? Attacking Ivy in Andrew's office?"
he materialized her fingers and hurled a stone as far as she could over the ridge. "Of course, we don't even know for sure if Caroline was murdered or if your brake line was deliberately cut."
Tristan nodded. "I'm going to have to time-travel through Eric's memories again."
Lacey had picked up another stone and now dropped it to her side. "You're going back through Eric's mind? You're crazy, Tristan! I thought you learned your lesson the first time. His circuits are fried, it's too dangerous, and his memories won't give you any proof."
“Once I know what is going on, I can find the proof," he reasoned.
Lacey shook her head.
"Right now," Tristan said, "I've got to get Ivy to remember what happened at the train station. I've got to find Will and convince him to help me."
"Gee, what a great idea," Lacey said. "I think someone else suggested mat about fifteen minutes ago."
Tristan shrugged.
"That same someone will come with you, in case you need further help," she added.
"No jokes, Lacey," he warned.
"No promises, Tristan."
They found Will by the patio, dancing with Beth. Ivy and Suzanne were sitting next to Ivy's mother, watching kids from their class getting into the reggae music. Lacey started dancing by herself, swinging her hips, lifting her hands above her head, then dropping them to her waist. She's good at it, Tristan observed as she twisted and turned her way across the patio. Ella, seeing Lacey's light, began to follow her. Somebody stepped backward and fell over Ella, landing on his rear next to the cat.
"Would you like to dance?" It was Lacey's projected voice.
The guy stared at Ella for a moment, then scrambled to his feet.
"Come here, Ella," Maggie called out, and the cat sauntered toward Ivy's mother, with Lacey following.
Ella leaped into Maggie's lap, and Ivy's mother settled back to watch the dancers.
"No one will ask me to dance, Maggie." Lacey again.
"Maggie shifted the cat around, cupping Ella's chin in her perfectly manicured hand, staring at the cat as if she expected her to speak once more.
"Did you girls hear that?" Maggie asked, but neither replied. Suzanne was giving Ivy a detailed analysis of the relationships of all the couples on the patio.
Tristan left Lacey to her games and moved through the crowd toward Beth and Will. They were dancing with their heads as close as a romantic couple's, but he knew why Beth and Will were really together-Ivy.
"I'm afraid," Beth said. "I know things I don't want to know-I know them before they happen, Will. And I write things I never meant to write."
"I draw pictures I never meant to draw," Will replied.
"I wish someone would tell us what's going on. Whatever it is, it's not over yet-that much I know. I have this sense that things are terribly wrong, and they're going to get worse. I wake up scared, scared to death for Ivy. Sometimes I think I'm cracking up."
Will drew her closer. Tristan glanced over at Ivy and saw her quickly turn her head away.
"You're not cracking up, Beth. It's just that you have some kind of gift that-" "I don't want this kind of gift!" she cried.
"Shhh. Shhh." With his hand, he smoothed Beth's hair.
"She's watching us," Beth said. "She'll get the wrong idea. You'd better ask her to dance."
Tristan knew at that moment what Will would be thinking. He gazed at Ivy and thought how it would feel to put his arms around her, to pull her to him, to let his fingers get lost in her bright hair. In that instant they matched thoughts, and Tristan slipped inside Will.
Will suddenly sagged against Beth. "It's that feeling again. I hate the feeling."
"I need to talk to Ivy," Tristan told him, and Will spoke the words aloud.
"What are you going to say to her?" Beth asked.
Will shook his head, bewildered.
"Ask Ivy to dance," Tristan said, and once again Will spoke the words as if they were his own.
"You ask her," Beth replied.
Will's jaw tightened. Tristan could feel his struggle, how Will's instinct told him to thrust the intruder out of his mind, and how his curiosity fought back against this instinct. "Who are you?" Will wondered silently.
"It's Tristan. Tristan. You've got to believe me now."
"I can't believe," Beth said.
Will and she had stopped dancing and stood looking at each other, trying to understand.
"He's inside you, isn't he?" Beth asked, her voice shaking.
"It's his words you're saying."
Will nodded.
"Can you make him leave?" she asked.
"Don't!"
"Why don't you leave us alone?" Beth cried.
"I can't. For Ivy's sake, I can't."
Will and Beth clung to each other. Then Will led her to the edge of the patio, where Ivy was sitting. "Will you dance with me?" he asked Ivy.
She glanced at Beth uncertainly.
"I'm beat," Beth said, pulling Ivy up out of the chair and taking her place. "Go on. I've got to give these dainty, size-nine feet a break."
Will walked quietly wi
th Ivy to the least crowded part of the patio.
Tristan felt him tremble as he put his arms around her. He felt each awkward step and remembered how he himself had felt the previous spring when he had first tried to get to know Ivy. Face-to-face with her, he couldn't manage a sentence with more than four words.
"How are you?" Will asked.
"Fine."
"Good."
A long silence followed. Tristan could feel questions forming in Will's mind. "If you're there," Will said silently to Tristan, "why aren't you telling me what to do?"
"I'm not that fragile," Ivy told him.
"What?"
"You're dancing with me as if you think I'll break," she said loudly, her green eyes shooting brilliant sparks.
Will looked at her, surprised. "You're angry."
"You noticed," she said sharply. "I'm tired of the way people are acting-everyone's being so careful around me! Tiptoeing, as though they're afraid they'll do something to set me off. Well, I've got news for you, Will, and everyone else. I'm not made of glass, and I'm not about to shatter. Got it?"
"I think so," Will said. Then, without warning, he spun her around twice, pushing her away from him and drawing her back like a yo-yo. He dropped his arm so she fell back, then he caught her at the last instant, leaning over her and pulling her up.
"Is that better?"
Ivy pushed back the hair that had tumbled over her face, and she laughed breathlessly. "A little."
Will grinned. Both of them were more relaxed now-it was time to speak to her, Tristan thought. But what could he say that wouldn't anger her again or scare her away?
"There's something I want to talk about," Will said, using Tristan's words.
Ivy pulled back a little to look into his eyes, then quickly glanced away. Eyes a girl could drown in- that was how Lacey had described Will's. And that's why Ivy looked away, Tristan thought, struggling to control his jealousy.
"It's about… Beth. She's kind of shaken up," Will said for Tristan.
"You know how she has premonitions."
"I know I gave her a good scare a few weeks ago," Ivy said, "but that was just a-" Will shook his head quickly, as Tristan did. "Beth is more afraid of the future than of what happened then."
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