Burning Both Ends

Page 45

The creases in Mrs. Morgenstern’s wrinkled face deepened. “I hope I did the right thing, letting him in. He sure acted like he belonged.”
“Uh, yes. That’s fine.” Ari was eager to get inside and see for herself. “Thank you, Mrs. Morgenstern!” She only knew one white cat.
She shoved her key in the door and turned it. It was quiet inside.
Bella didn’t greet her by winding around her legs. Nor was the cat curled in her favorite spot on the sofa. Ari quickly scanned the rest of her efficiency apartment and breathed a silent hallelujah. Two sets of cat eyes glittered at her from the middle of her bed.
“Hernando, you old rascal. Come visiting the girlfriend, I see.”
The snowy Siamese blinked his baby blues at her. Ari shifted her gaze to Bella. Worldly wise green eyes returned a sleepy stare, reinforcing the satisfied smirk on Bella’s face.
Uh-oh. What was the gestation period for cats?
Epilogue
“Sixty to sixty-seven days is the normal length of pregnancy.” Claris sat at the kitchen table, her laptop open in front of her. Coffee cup in hand, Ari peered at the screen over Claris’s shoulder.
“Does it say how many?”
“They don’t call them litters for nothing.”
Bella’s owner groaned. “That’s multiple, right? Like more than one.”
“Yes, but don’t worry. It’ll be fun. They’ll be beautiful kittens, and it should be easy to find good homes. I’ll put up a sign in the store window as soon as we know for sure she’s pregnant. Start screening potential adoptive parents.”
“I already know for sure,” Ari grumbled. “So does he. Look at him.”
Hernando, the white Siamese male, sat washing his paws and privates in the greenhouse window. The door between Claris’s living quarters at the back of her shop and the attached greenhouse had been left open, and Hernando had trotted past a few minutes earlier and was enjoying the morning sun.
Ari had been at the shop door, cat in hand, thirty minutes before Claris opened at 8:00. Bella was at home sleeping it off. Only this wasn’t like getting over a hangover. Ari intended to have a serious talk with Bella about future behavior. Abstinence or the vet. As far as she knew, there was no safe sex for felines.
“If this is the worst outcome from the last few days, you should consider yourself lucky,” Claris said, as she looked up from the screen. While Claris had searched for the cat info, Ari had brought her up to date on events in Toronto and Steffan’s rescue. Claris wasn’t pleased with Ari’s secrecy, and her lips formed a slight pout. “You should have told me sooner. I could have worried with you, and I wouldn’t have been bugging you about Hernando.”
“It all happened so fast. How would it help to have you worry over something you couldn’t fix? I didn’t even tell Ryan. Andreas did that.”
Claris closed the laptop, got to her feet and refilled the coffee cups. “Sometimes I feel like you shut me out.”
Surprised, Ari sat down and thought about it. “If I do, it’s because you’re the sane part of my life. I’m not sure I want you involved in the chaotic Otherworld stuff. I certainly don’t want you involved in the risks.” She produced a wry grin. “I’ve got to have some place to go when the fighting’s over.”
“But you don’t act like it’s over this time. You’re edgy. I see little worry lines, and fussing about Bella’s condition isn’t like you.”
“I know.” Ari let out a heavy sigh. “I shouldn’t be this way. Andreas and Steffan are both fine. In fact, Steffan’s thrilled that the coalition was approved late last night after everyone made some adjustments. I should be satisfied how everything ended. Yet it feels unfinished.”
“Because of Andreas.” It wasn’t a question. “I can tell you miss him, and I know how much I hate it when Brando goes to his conferences.”
“It feels like a part of me is still in Toronto.” Once she started talking about Andreas, Ari let it all spill out. The effects of the legend on their bond, the moments she’d spent in Andreas’s head, the on-going concerns about his safety in Toronto, and her belief that long distance relationships couldn’t survive for long.
Claris argued with her, reminding her that three hours wasn’t that far away. “You could fly up there every weekend if you wanted.”
But when Claris was called up front to take care of customers in the shop, Ari still wasn’t convinced. It wasn’t as simple as Claris thought. Ari couldn’t be gone from her responsibilities that often.
She leaned forward in her chair, propping her head up with one hand and elbow on the kitchen table. She felt out of control. Ari was used to fixing things, but her personal problems were defying solution.
Short of dimension-hopping, which was a demon thing, there wasn’t any way to bring Toronto and Riverdale into close proximity. They’d just have to live with that. But if she understood the bond better, perhaps they could gain some control over it. Andreas was taking everything better than she was, but neither of them was very happy about their unpredictable link or the current separation.
Ari sighed and got up from the table. Why was that always the way with them? Pulled together, torn apart.
* * *
After the conversation with Claris, Ari spent more time researching the legend and talked with Rosalina again. Since no one had bonded with a vampire before, the seer wasn’t much help. Ari called Andreas and read him the story from the Book of Shadows. Ari was intrigued to finally learn that Ramora, the witch whose indecision had begun the legend, had chosen the good father from among her three suitors. It didn’t provide any insight into the powers of the bond, however, and no matter how many times she read it, the legend still decreed an unbreakable link would be forged between a Calin witch and her soul mate.
At first, Andreas was skeptical any witch’s curse or spell could have that kind of long-range effect. For a vampire, he held an inexplicable belief in self-determination. After Ari explained Rosalina’s interpretation—that the bond merely strengthen an existing attachment—he began to see the similarity with a vampire bond. It was very possible they were dealing with some unique linking of the two magical enchantments.
Ari kept digging for more information, turning to her own family history in the cedar trunk she used as a coffee table. Among the mementoes, notes and papers that belonged to her deceased relatives was a packet of her mother’s letters, and she finally located a passage that seemed significant. The letter had been written by her mother, a practicing Calin witch, to her father, a non-practicing descendant of another witch clan:
Dearest,
I miss you and long to be home. Yet you were with me today. When I was at the door of the crypt, you stayed my hand. How did you know? Without your warning, the demons inside would surely have killed me and your unborn child. Your touch was so real! As if your hand held me back. I don’t know how that was possible, but I thank the Goddess for it. Gran said the strength of the Ramora bond is greatest when both mates are witch born, but it can manifest in many ways. This must be our way. I will light a candle of gratitude. We must speak of this again when I return.
After reading the letter, Ari and Andreas experimented long distance with sharing thoughts or pictures of what they were doing by using the gate. The concept wasn’t quite so scary to Ari when they put a label on it. The real difference was knowing her parents had also shared some form of telepathy. Still, there were moments when she remembered her vampire soul mate had powers of his own, powers she didn’t yet understand and couldn’t predict.
Despite their mutual concerns, they made progress in sharing only what and when they chose. When it worked right, they could turn the gate on and off at will. Andreas mastered it quickly. Ari was frustrated by her early attempts but was getting better. She kept reminding herself that he’d had a lot more experience with this telepathic thing. It might have been easier if they weren’t working over so great a distance.
Her failure to control the gate had only been one source of Ari’s funky mood over the last week. Olde Town had been free of serious crimes or disputes. With too much time on her hands, she’d been feeling a little sorry for herself. She almost wished dispatch would call with a new murder. Not that she was eager for someone to die, but if another murder was on the schedule anyway, this would be a good time for it to happen.
* * *
Ari settled back into a regular routine of counseling Otherworlders during the day and patrolling every night. She and Ryan were called out one night when a couple of drunk college students got overly friendly with a young vampiress, but it was settled before anyone got hurt. Afterward, she and Ryan went for coffee.
Ari stirred her black coffee, stalling before bringing up the strain between them. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “Claris tells me I push people away, but I don’t mean to.”
“You do,” Ryan agreed. “Sometimes I feel pretty useless, but it really was my fault this time. This wasn’t a joint case. I had no right to insist on being included.”
“But that wasn’t the point, was it?” She widened her eyes in question, but he just shook his head. “Well, I’m glad Andreas had the good sense to call you.”
Ryan grinned. “I always knew he was a smart man.”
Ari laughed. Somehow Andreas’s appeal to Ryan for help had made a difference. She didn’t pretend to understand men, but was glad her relationship with Ryan seemed to be on the mend.
Two days later, the werewolf Fagan and his friends finally surfaced. They claimed they’d been unexpectedly called out of town. Steffan figured they’d been laying low, refusing to be involved in the search and hoping he wouldn’t be found—or that he’d be found dead. When Fagan proposed leaving the pack to start his own group, Steffan gave him his blessing.
By the end of two weeks, Ari still hadn’t figured out how to handle the pieces of her own life. It was Thursday night, the night Andreas used to sing at the club. A few weeks ago, she would have been looking forward to the evening, sipping a little wine, chatting with Lilith or Russell, and watching the show.