Key of Knowledge
Page 46
“Well.” Dana fisted her hands on her hips. “That’s a hell of a note.”
“We didn’t actually bet.” Malory chimed back in. “And see what good friends we are, not even pointing out that you’re telling us, though Jordan telling Flynn would make him an arrogant, self-satisfied son of a bitch.”
“I’m rendered speechless.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Zoe shook her head. “At least not until you tell us how it was. You want to use the scale of one to ten, or do a descriptive retrospective?”
The laugh escaped before Dana could stop it. “I don’t know why I like the two of you.”
“Sure you do. Come on,” Zoe urged. “Tell. You’re dying to.”
“It was great, and not just because I was ready to spontaneously combust. I missed being with him. You think you forget what it’s like to feel so . . . connected to somebody. But you don’t. You really don’t. We were always good in bed. We’re even better now.”
Zoe let out a long sigh. “Was it romantic or insane?”
“Which time?”
“Now you’re bragging.”
With a laugh Dana started painting again. “Been a while since I had anything to brag about.”
“How are you planning to handle it?” Malory asked her.
“Handle what?”
“Are you going to tell him you’re in love with him?”
The question brought a little shadow creeping in on the edge of her bright mood. “What’s the point of it? He’d either back off or feel guilty about not backing off.”
“If you’re honest with him—”
“That was your way,” Dana interrupted. “It’s the way you needed to deal with what you felt for Flynn. It was right for you, Mal, and for him. But for me . . . well, I don’t have any expectations of Jordan this time around, and I’m willing to take responsibility for my own emotions and the consequences. What I’m not willing to do is put my big, gooshy heart in his hands and force him into making a choice. What we’ve got right now is good enough for me. For now. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it gets here.”
“Um . . . I’m not going to disagree with you,” Zoe began. “Maybe you need to take some time, let things settle or evolve. But more, maybe you’re meant to. Maybe it’s part of the quest.”
The roller jumped in Dana’s hand. “My sleeping with Jordan is part of the quest? Where the hell does that come in?”
“I don’t mean the sex, specifically. Though sex is, let’s face it, powerful magic.”
“Yeah, well, maybe the gods sang and the faeries wept.” Dana ran her roller over the wall again. “But I’m not buying that doing the wild thing with Jordan’s going to lead me to the key.”
“I’m talking about the relationship, the connection, however you want to say it. What was between you, what is between you, what’s going to be.”
Zoe paused as Dana lowered the roller, turned with a speculative look on her face. “Isn’t that following along with what Rowena said to you about the key?” she continued. “Couldn’t it be part of the whole thing?”
Dana said nothing for a moment, then dredged her roller in paint. “Well, that’s another hell of a note. It’s got some logic to it, Zoe, but I don’t see how it helps. Somehow I don’t think I’m going to find the key to the Box of Souls tangled in the sheets the next time Jordan and I make love, but it’s an interesting angle, which should also be fun to explore.”
“Maybe it’s more something, or some place, that meant something to you, or both of you, before. And now. And later.” Zoe threw up her hands. “I’m not making sense.”
“Yeah, you are,” Dana corrected as a line formed between her brows. “I can’t think of anything right offhand, but I’m going to think harder. Maybe talk to Jordan about it. No way to deny he’s an integral part of this, so he might as well be useful.”
“I’m just going to say one thing.” Malory squared her shoulders. “Love’s not a burden, not to anyone. And if he feels otherwise, he’s not worthy of you.”
After a moment’s surprise, Dana set down her roller. She walked over, bent down and kissed Malory’s cheek. “You’re a sweetheart.”
“I love you. I love both of you. And anyone who doesn’t love you back is a moron.”
“Jeez, for that you get a hug, too.” Dana gave Malory a squeeze. “Whatever the hell happens, I’m glad I’ve got the two of you.”
“This is so nice.” Zoe stepped over to swing an arm around each of them. “I’m really glad Dana had sex so we could have this moment.”
On a bray of laughter, Dana gave them both a little nudge. “I’ll see what I can do tonight, and maybe we can have a real weep fest after settlement tomorrow.”
Chapter Eleven
JORDAN slept with his arm flung over Dana’s waist, his leg hooked over hers, as if he would hold her in place. Though she hadn’t been the one to leave, this time around he was far from sure she would let him stay.
In her bed, or in her life.
But he held on to her as he wandered in dreams. Through the moonstruck night in the high summer heat where everything smelled ripe and green and secret.
The woods were locked in shadows, with the flicker of lightning bugs quick blinks of gold against the black. In dreams he knew, somehow knew, he was a man instead of the boy he’d been when he’d walked through the wild grass at the verge of those woods. His heart pounding with . . . fear? Anticipation? Knowledge? As he’d stared up at the great black house that rose regally toward the swimming moon.
His friends weren’t close by, as they had been on that hot summer night of his memory. Flynn and Brad weren’t there, with their contraband beer and cigarettes, the camping gear, or the youthful courage and carelessness three teenage boys made together.
He was alone, the warriors of the Peak guarding the gate behind him and the house empty of life and silent as a tomb.
No, not empty, he thought. It was a mistake to think of houses, old houses, as being empty. They were filled with memories, with the faded echoes of voices. Drops of tears, drops of blood, the ring of laughter, the edge of tempers that had ebbed and flowed between the walls, into the walls, over the years.
“We didn’t actually bet.” Malory chimed back in. “And see what good friends we are, not even pointing out that you’re telling us, though Jordan telling Flynn would make him an arrogant, self-satisfied son of a bitch.”
“I’m rendered speechless.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Zoe shook her head. “At least not until you tell us how it was. You want to use the scale of one to ten, or do a descriptive retrospective?”
The laugh escaped before Dana could stop it. “I don’t know why I like the two of you.”
“Sure you do. Come on,” Zoe urged. “Tell. You’re dying to.”
“It was great, and not just because I was ready to spontaneously combust. I missed being with him. You think you forget what it’s like to feel so . . . connected to somebody. But you don’t. You really don’t. We were always good in bed. We’re even better now.”
Zoe let out a long sigh. “Was it romantic or insane?”
“Which time?”
“Now you’re bragging.”
With a laugh Dana started painting again. “Been a while since I had anything to brag about.”
“How are you planning to handle it?” Malory asked her.
“Handle what?”
“Are you going to tell him you’re in love with him?”
The question brought a little shadow creeping in on the edge of her bright mood. “What’s the point of it? He’d either back off or feel guilty about not backing off.”
“If you’re honest with him—”
“That was your way,” Dana interrupted. “It’s the way you needed to deal with what you felt for Flynn. It was right for you, Mal, and for him. But for me . . . well, I don’t have any expectations of Jordan this time around, and I’m willing to take responsibility for my own emotions and the consequences. What I’m not willing to do is put my big, gooshy heart in his hands and force him into making a choice. What we’ve got right now is good enough for me. For now. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it gets here.”
“Um . . . I’m not going to disagree with you,” Zoe began. “Maybe you need to take some time, let things settle or evolve. But more, maybe you’re meant to. Maybe it’s part of the quest.”
The roller jumped in Dana’s hand. “My sleeping with Jordan is part of the quest? Where the hell does that come in?”
“I don’t mean the sex, specifically. Though sex is, let’s face it, powerful magic.”
“Yeah, well, maybe the gods sang and the faeries wept.” Dana ran her roller over the wall again. “But I’m not buying that doing the wild thing with Jordan’s going to lead me to the key.”
“I’m talking about the relationship, the connection, however you want to say it. What was between you, what is between you, what’s going to be.”
Zoe paused as Dana lowered the roller, turned with a speculative look on her face. “Isn’t that following along with what Rowena said to you about the key?” she continued. “Couldn’t it be part of the whole thing?”
Dana said nothing for a moment, then dredged her roller in paint. “Well, that’s another hell of a note. It’s got some logic to it, Zoe, but I don’t see how it helps. Somehow I don’t think I’m going to find the key to the Box of Souls tangled in the sheets the next time Jordan and I make love, but it’s an interesting angle, which should also be fun to explore.”
“Maybe it’s more something, or some place, that meant something to you, or both of you, before. And now. And later.” Zoe threw up her hands. “I’m not making sense.”
“Yeah, you are,” Dana corrected as a line formed between her brows. “I can’t think of anything right offhand, but I’m going to think harder. Maybe talk to Jordan about it. No way to deny he’s an integral part of this, so he might as well be useful.”
“I’m just going to say one thing.” Malory squared her shoulders. “Love’s not a burden, not to anyone. And if he feels otherwise, he’s not worthy of you.”
After a moment’s surprise, Dana set down her roller. She walked over, bent down and kissed Malory’s cheek. “You’re a sweetheart.”
“I love you. I love both of you. And anyone who doesn’t love you back is a moron.”
“Jeez, for that you get a hug, too.” Dana gave Malory a squeeze. “Whatever the hell happens, I’m glad I’ve got the two of you.”
“This is so nice.” Zoe stepped over to swing an arm around each of them. “I’m really glad Dana had sex so we could have this moment.”
On a bray of laughter, Dana gave them both a little nudge. “I’ll see what I can do tonight, and maybe we can have a real weep fest after settlement tomorrow.”
Chapter Eleven
JORDAN slept with his arm flung over Dana’s waist, his leg hooked over hers, as if he would hold her in place. Though she hadn’t been the one to leave, this time around he was far from sure she would let him stay.
In her bed, or in her life.
But he held on to her as he wandered in dreams. Through the moonstruck night in the high summer heat where everything smelled ripe and green and secret.
The woods were locked in shadows, with the flicker of lightning bugs quick blinks of gold against the black. In dreams he knew, somehow knew, he was a man instead of the boy he’d been when he’d walked through the wild grass at the verge of those woods. His heart pounding with . . . fear? Anticipation? Knowledge? As he’d stared up at the great black house that rose regally toward the swimming moon.
His friends weren’t close by, as they had been on that hot summer night of his memory. Flynn and Brad weren’t there, with their contraband beer and cigarettes, the camping gear, or the youthful courage and carelessness three teenage boys made together.
He was alone, the warriors of the Peak guarding the gate behind him and the house empty of life and silent as a tomb.
No, not empty, he thought. It was a mistake to think of houses, old houses, as being empty. They were filled with memories, with the faded echoes of voices. Drops of tears, drops of blood, the ring of laughter, the edge of tempers that had ebbed and flowed between the walls, into the walls, over the years.
