Discovery

by Radclyffe

  “Will you stop with the jumping jack thing?” Kyla gripped Dana’s sleeve until her heels settled into the grass. She was smiling dreamily into the crackling flames of the bonfire. “Relax. They’ll be here.”

  “So you keep telling me.” Dana craned her neck to try to see over the heads of the taller warriors. “What did she say?”

  “Who?”

  “Who,” Dana snorted. “Shann, Queen of Tristaine, she who we all dang well better obey, Shann, what did she say when you told her we lost Jess and Brenna?”

  “She told Aria to put on another pot of posole, we’d be starting a little late.” Kyla rocked slightly to the harmonious chanting from the women encircling the fire.

  “How can we eat posole when Jess and Brenna are going to hell?”

  “Dana, darlin’.” Kyla lifted Dana’s hand and patted it. “I promise you, our adanin are not going to hell.” She nodded toward the assembled Amazons. “These are just our clan’s customs, honey, they’re not natural law. Tristaine’s Goddesses are far too sensible to get miffed by a little premature ravishing, and so is Shann.”

  “Well, where are they, then?” Dana tried again to see through the throng of bodies around them. “Man, even if they blew off the chastity thing, you’d think they’d show up for this. Everybody here loves those guys. You’d think they’d care—”

  “They care,” Kyla assured her.

  Dana heard it then, the ripple of excitement that enlivened the crowd’s chanting to a trill of welcome. A dark head appeared above the other warriors, and then Jess stepped into the cleared space in the grass before Shann. At the opposite end of the inner circle, Brenna was nudged forward by another group of grinning sisters.

  Jess sauntered into the clearing, smiling slightly, her shoulders relaxed. She never took her gaze from Brenna, who returned it with the light blush of fulfillment still coloring her cheeks. Dana had never seen a more vivid walking proclamation of post-climax content in her life, and apparently others saw it too. An appreciative whistle broke out from the cluster of warriors across the fire.

  Jess turned, and Dana felt the trajectory of her frown pass over her head like an arrow in flight, targeting the offending warrior. A quick, respectful silence fell over that curve of the circle. One of their archers lifted her hand in apology, and Jess’s nod acknowledged it.

  Shann cleared her throat quietly. The queen stood gracefully on a low bench, studying the heavens, the essence of regal patience. Her two errant Amazons finally reached her and faced each other.

  “I’m up,” Kyla whispered. She rose on her toes and brushed a swift kiss across Dana’s cheek, stunning her into paralysis, and then weaved through the circles of women to a position behind Shann.

  Brenna smiled at Kyla nervously, hoping against hope that her vision wouldn’t blur with tears—she was already immensely moved by the palpable joy of the Amazons around them. The clan’s pleasure in their union was heartfelt and universal, and she basked in the warmth of her sisters’ excitement. As she watched, an entire silent conversation passed between Shann and Jess while the chanting faded.

  From her elevated stance, the queen looked down pointedly at a small leaf still caught in Jess’s tumbling hair, and lifted an eyebrow in mild reproof. Jess lowered her head in brief, respectful admission, but then she grinned up at Shann with such bandit satisfaction that Brenna couldn’t repress her own smile, and neither could Shann.

  The queen glanced over her shoulder and nodded at Kyla. Kyla filled her lungs slowly, and an ethereal melody emerged from her lips, sweet and lilting in the fresh night air. Brenna’s throat tightened as she recognized the aria from one of Tristaine’s most honored legends. The song told the story of a timeless bond between two Amazons who transcended death itself to claim their love. Kyla had chosen these verses wisely, out of her sure understanding of the almost mystical ties that forged Jess and Brenna into adonai.

  “Brenna.” Shann’s voice was low and a little amused.

  Brenna came to with a start. Jess was extending open hands to her, and she stepped closer and took them readily. Her warrior’s palms were dry and warm, calming the trembling in her own fingers.

  Kyla’s rich song continued, the only sound in the hushed night beyond the crackling of the fire. The clan watched silently as Shann lifted the simple ribbon from around her neck and kissed it. The delicate lace of the handfasting braid was threaded with thin strips of leather, butter-soft but strong. Shann draped the ribbon around Jess’s and Brenna’s wrists, and then straightened.

  The first words of the blessing the queen had chosen nearly brought on the tears Brenna had successfully held back thus far. It was one of Tristaine’s oldest prayers, and the one spoken when Shann had joined her life with her adonai, Dyan, long years lost now.

  “Now you will feel no rain,” Shann said, “for each of you will be shelter for the other.

  “Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other.

  “Now you are two Amazons, but there is only one life before you.

  May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and through all the years.

  “May happiness be your adanin, and your days together be good and long upon the earth.”

  A sigh moved through the women, and Brenna closed her eyes as the queen’s hand rested briefly on her head. She wanted very much to look at Jess at that moment, but the time had come to speak their vows, and she was afraid her throat might lock entirely if she saw her face. Brenna swallowed hard. Then she felt a small warmth on her wrist and opened her eyes to see a single teardrop darkening the lace of the handfasting ribbon. She lifted her head.

  Another tear brimmed in Jess’s eyes and slid over her high cheek. Her tears were not many and they fell silently, but easily and without shame. They smiled at each other as Brenna’s eyes filled at last, a warm energy thrilling through their clasped hands.

  Kyla’s lovely voice grew softer, and the watching women stilled to listen to the adonai exchange vows. The warrior and the healer stood close to each other, their locked gaze holding no need for words. All had been said, all promises given and love professed, at the glen, and echoed in every day of their lives since they met.

  Several moments passed, and some of the watching Amazons looked at the queen, puzzled at this pleasantly intense but continuing silence. Shann studied the faces of the two women before her. Then she looked out over her clan and nodded, content.

  A murmur of understanding rustled through the crowd, then they quieted once more to hear their sisters’ silent vows.

  No one moved until Jess took Brenna in her arms at last and kissed her, and then a mighty roar shook the village square.

  The Amazons danced until dawn.

  Author’s Note: Shann’s blessing was adapted from the oral tradition of an Apache wedding prayer. The words are not my own.

  The Player - Gabrielle Goldsby

  GABRIELLE GOLDSBY is the author of The Caretaker’s Daughter, Never Wake, Such a Pretty Face, Remember Tomorrow, and the 2007 Lambda Literary Award–winning mystery, Wall of Silence 2nd edition. When not writing, reading, or in the gym, Gabrielle enjoys exploring the trails near her home in Portland Oregon, camping—the kind that requires a tent—and watching movies in her home theater with her partner of nine years. Gabrielle’s works in progress are Paybacks (Bold Strokes Books, 2009) and The Burning Cypress.

  For information about these and other works, please visit www.boldstrokesbooks.com.

  The Player

  Gabrielle Goldsby

  “Hello, Gianna. It’s been a long time.”

  “Elle, it hasn’t been near long enough.” With those words, Gianna Abatoli turned and walked away. There was a time in Gianna’s life when she’d felt honored to have attracted Elle Butler’s attention. But that was a long time ago. Today, the quick flash of anger that accompanied any mention of Elle’s name was magnified by ten—the number of years since they had last spoken to each other.

  Gianna had alw
ays imagined that she would be cool and uncaring if they should ever run into each other again. Maybe even say something biting, like, “I’m sorry, do I know you…bitch?” Instead, she had blurted out the thing that came first to her mind: the truth. The hurt and humiliation were still too fresh for her to pretend that Elle was simply a college buddy. Gianna had given her virginity to Elle Butler, but they had never been friends.

  Gianna moved through the throng of party guests, outright ignoring the fact that Cori Hoffman, the hostess of the pool party/housewarming, was calling her name.

  “Gianna, would you wait, please? Damn it! Stop walking so fast, I can’t catch up.”

  “That’s the plan,” Gianna muttered, but she slowed just outside Cori’s front door. Still, she was halfway down the driveway before Cori caught up to her.

  “Thanks for slowing down,” Cori huffed.

  “I didn’t slow down to talk to you. I slowed down because I want my shoes back.”

  “What?”

  “I said, give me back my Jimmy Choos.”

  “But why?” Cori looked down at the cute little sling-backed sandals that complemented her summer dress, then back at Gianna as if she had just been asked for one of her kidneys.

  “You knew she would be here, didn’t you?”

  Cori nodded and looked so forlorn that Gianna would have felt bad if she wasn’t certain that Cori was more upset at the loss of the shoes than the fact that Gianna was leaving her party early.

  “You said I could wear them. They go with my outfit.”

  “I changed my mind.” Gianna felt tiny and spiteful. Cori had been her college roommate. She knew all of the sordid details of why Gianna hated Elle’s guts. Why wouldn’t she have warned her?

  “Look, she’s the one that called me, okay? She said she had taken a coaching job at the junior college and heard about my party through the grapevine. I tried to tell her that you would be here and you wouldn’t like it. But she said it was time for you two to work this out like adults. I thought you were over that stuff. It happened ten years ago.”

  “If you thought I was over it, why didn’t you tell me she was coming? Take the shoes off, Cori.”

  “But there’s gravel all over the driveway.”

  “Good. Take ’em off.”

  “I thought you guys could talk. Maybe she remembers the situation differently than you do.” Cori removed one shoe and held it out cautiously, as if attempting to feed raw sirloin to a hungry lioness.

  Gianna snatched the shoe from Cori’s hand. “I’ll need the left one too. They’re a pair.” She watched as Cori stooped to remove the other shoe. “And what do you mean, maybe she remembers it differently? How could she? What happened is what happened. The videotape is probably still floating around. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s made it to DVD by now.”

  “I just meant that maybe you should talk to her. You might be surprised by what she has to say.”

  “The time for talking was ten years ago.”

  “She tried, Gianna, you wouldn’t see her. You went out of your way to avoid her. You even stopped tutoring the basketball team just so you wouldn’t have to hear anything about her.”

  “You know that’s not the only reason.”

  “I know, but the point is, you wouldn’t let her talk to you. She tried calling you before she left to play overseas.”

  “Like I said, we had nothing to discuss. I got involved with a player and I got played. Lesson learned. I don’t care what she has to say.”

  But the problem was, she did care. No matter how many women she dated, how many years went by, and how many times she told herself she should forget, Gianna still caught her breath whenever she saw a tall, athletic-looking brunette. She’d thought she caught glimpses of Elle in crowded grocery stores, above clothing racks, and in SUVs inching down packed highways. But until today, she had always been left disappointed and feeling ashamed that she still looked for the woman who had left her not only devastated, but jaded toward future relationships.

  Gianna looked up just as Cori’s front door swung open. Her eyes settled on Elle with a hunger that shocked her. She had spent the past decade telling herself that Elle had probably grown lazy and out of shape like many former athletes. She had spitefully named one of the characters in her sixth novel after her. Fictional Elle had married a portly older man for money and had borne him four large-headed babies in rapid succession that served to stretch her once young and perfect breasts into sagging teardrops of flesh. Gianna had taken great pleasure in making that character into such a pathetic creature that even she could see her editor’s point that she had given the fictional Elle no redeeming qualities for the reader to get behind. In the end the character, like the real thing, had been abruptly removed from the plot and she had been forced to tie up the loose ends as best she could.

  The real Elle was striding toward them, looking as fit as she had in her early twenties. The few strands of silver Gianna had spotted in her hair during their brief conversation brought her no pleasure. If anything, the sign of maturity added to her attraction.

  “Damn, she’s still sexy, huh?” Cori said.

  “Shut up and put the shoes back on,” Gianna said through tight lips. Cori snagged the shoes and went so far as to use Gianna’s shoulder for support as she slipped them back on with a pleased sigh.

  “May I speak with you before you leave?” Elle sounded hesitant, as if she expected to be shot down again.

  “I’ll just head back to my party and give you two some privacy,” Cori said. Without looking at Gianna, she scurried back up the driveway and through her front door.

  “I’m in a hurry,” Gianna said. “Why don’t you give me your phone number and I’ll call you sometime.”

  “I’d like the chance to explain my side of things.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gianna flushed. It was a stupid thing to say. They both knew she remembered. How could she ever hope to forget having her virginity taken by her dream lover and her heart broken within a few days by that same lover? How could she ever forget the humiliation of attending classes daily for three more years with the fear that the jock sitting behind her had seen her nude body, had heard her beg for release? It would never happen. She could never forget that. No matter how hard she tried.

  “Gianna, please,” Elle said in that soft way of hers.

  Gianna felt caught like the numerous lightning bugs she’d imprisoned in glass jars as a child. Like most of her friends, she had thought nothing of using the crushed bodies of those living things to write her most secret of secrets across her chest. I love Kate Strawberry. Gianna caught herself staring at two nicely rounded and perky breasts. She tried to look away, but was caught by Elle’s intense dark eyes.

  “Can we go somewhere and talk?” Elle asked.

  “No, we can’t. I have nothing to talk to you about.”

  “Okay, then can we go somewhere and not talk?”

  The quirky half-smile on Elle’s lips had always made Gianna’s tummy flip with pleasure, but the fact that it still did, all these years later, infuriated her.

  “It was a long time ago. Whatever it is you feel we need to talk about, I’m sure I’ve already forgotten.” The hurt on Elle’s face withered any further words on Gianna’s lips. What the fuck? She was still using that lost, innocent look? Of course she was. Why not? That look was all she had needed to land Gianna’s naïve eighteen-year-old-virgin ass, spread-eagle and screaming how much she loved her. Gianna flinched at the memory. “If you’re still feeling guilty, don’t bother. What’s done is done. It’s time you moved on. I already have.” Her words were as cool as the feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “That’s just it. I’ve tried.” The lost-girl look passed across Elle’s face again. She dug something out of her coat pocket and held it tightly in her hands. “I’ve kept this in the hopes that I would have the opportunity to give it back to you. But after I left the country and you graduated, I was afra
id too much time had passed.” Elle held out a thick white envelope. Softly she added, “There’s a card inside with an address on it. That’s where I’ll be tomorrow at two o’clock. If you don’t show up, I’ll understand. But I hope you do.”

  Gianna almost refused to take the envelope, but curiosity and the pleading in Elle’s eyes made it impossible. She took the envelope and dropped her hand to her side as if she couldn’t care less about the contents.

  “Thank you. I hope I see you tomorrow,” Elle said.

  Gianna expected Elle to turn away and head back to the party but she didn’t. Gianna was forced to walk away first, unsure of how and what she should be feeling. This had been simpler before. She’d had years of thinking of Elle as a calloused playgirl who had used her star-basketball-player status and charm to take advantage of Gianna, but now she couldn’t help remembering the gentle way Elle had made love to her. The look in her eyes as she had relished what Gianna was giving to her had not been cocky or superior, but grateful. It was the same look she had on her face now. Gianna didn’t remember if she had said good-bye or not, but Elle was still standing in the driveway when she tossed the thick envelope on the passenger seat of her car and drove off.

  Gianna pictured herself tossing the envelope out the window and freeing herself of the burden of Elle for good. But she could no sooner toss that envelope from her life than she could have walked out of that college dorm when Elle had forced her to come clean about the looks they had shared during their tutoring sessions. If only she had walked away ten years ago. What would her life be like without Elle Butler to despise?

  *

  Ten Years Earlier

  Gianna stood in front of Elle Butler’s on-campus apartment for several seconds listening to raised female voices. She was loath to interrupt the argument, but reluctant to squander the precious time she had to spend with Elle each session. She knocked twice before trying the knob. Unsurprised at finding it unlocked, she let herself in while calling out a hello. Gianna stepped into the hall just as a girl she vaguely recognized as being either on the cheerleading squad or in her chemistry lab stormed out of Elle’s room, straightening her clothes. The girl stopped long enough to look at Gianna’s khakis, polo shirt, and flats in disgust. She made a big show of stepping around Gianna and gestured toward Elle’s bedroom.