The Shadow and the Rose

  Chapter 20

  The night of the equinox came, and William and Tasha set out to entertain Melisande and her guests. Joy saw them off with their herbal charm bags and hugs for luck, and then immediately got on her bicycle and rode to the cemetery.

  She knew she was ridiculously early, but she couldn’t wait in her dorm room. Maddie was cautiously optimistic about the plan, but Joy felt she couldn’t stand to be around even Maddie during the waiting. Now, as night fell, she turned on the electric lantern she had borrowed from Jim Brody and paced among the tombstones, too jittery to sit still. What if he didn’t understand? What if he didn’t come?

  No, he’d understand. If she had made it any plainer, Melisande would have figured it out. Actually, if she had made it any more obvious, it would have been visible from space.

  She thought of Tasha singing the words now, standing on the dais at Melisande’s house. When would he first realize they were directed at him?

  I walked among the gravestones

  To seek some comfort there

  The dead, they do not judge me

  And tales they do not bear.

  I once did have a sweetheart

  A merry maid was she

  She swore to be my true love

  And follow only me.

  Maybe now he would start to pay attention. “Merry” was as close to “joy” as she dared go, but between the graveyard setting and the talk of love, perhaps he’d be listening more closely now. And it was just possible he’d recognize the tune as one of Anna Merridew Sumner’s.

  We courted in the springtime

  But parted in the fall;

  For, restless, I did leave her

  To follow Fortune’s call.

  A story of lovers parted; a dime a dozen in folk ballads. But the mention of springtime might pique his curiosity.

  Another love did beckon,

  And promises she made

  Of riches and of greatness

  Should I forswear my maid.

  Skating too close? She wasn’t sure if Melisande would see a resemblance there. But love triangles were also common in folk songs. It might not catch her attention.

  But that I could not promise;

  I turned my face toward home

  To claim once more my true love

  And have her for my own.

  Nothing too distinctive there. Just the similarity (she hoped) between Tanner and the speaker, as to where their loyalties lay…

  But when at last my footsteps

  Had led me to her door

  I saw the people gathered

  And knew she was no more.

  Okay, that was pure melodrama. Joy had no intention of dying. But it made sense of the graveyard setting. She could imagine Tasha’s plaintive voice, her expressive face reflecting the sorrow of the words, and hoped that Tanner would understand that they were meant for him.

  Now in that country churchyard

  I found her there tonight

  And spoke to my poor sweetheart

  Alone in the moonlight.

  A clunky last line, with the downbeat on “moon.” But she had to get “tonight” in there, to give him a timeframe, and it had to have a rhyme. And then the final verse, to cap things off:

  And on her grave I planted

  The last gift I could give:

  A wild white rose to honor

  The life she’d never live.

  So there was the last clue: the white rose.

  Doubts still nagged at her. Maybe she had been too subtle; maybe she hadn’t been subtle enough. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to get away from the party. And, worst of all, maybe he wouldn’t want to. She wondered if she was the dumbest girl who’d ever lived, waiting in a defunct graveyard for another woman’s lover.

  And then.

  Tearing through the night, the most raucous and beautiful sound she’d ever heard: a Kawasaki Ninja.

  Her heart beat rapidly in her throat. She stood at the gate, impatient for him to come into view, straining for the first glimpse of him.

  The first thing she saw was a flashlight beam darting over the grass. Then he was there, as heart-stoppingly handsome as ever, in full evening dress with his helmet under his arm.

  “Joy?” His voice was eager, apprehensive.

  “I’m here,” she called, just as his flashlight caught her. In two strides he was through the gate and taking her in his arms. The helmet and flashlight fell to the ground as they held each other.

  There was so much to say, but it had to wait until after they had kissed each other’s doubts away. She knew at once that she had been right to believe in him, that his feelings for her had not changed.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” she said at length, resting her head against his chest. The starched front of his shirt was scratchy against her face, but his hand was gentle on her hair. “Wouldn’t, or couldn’t. How did you get away?”

  “I said I was bored and did she want to get out of there, and she told me to go. Joy, I’ve been going crazy wanting to see you. But I didn’t want to risk you being on her radar. And I didn’t know if you’d want to have anything to do with me anymore, when I was doing everything I could to drive you away.” He took her face in his hands, trying to read her eyes. “You do know I was only trying to protect you, right?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She led him to a cracked marble bench and sat down, patting the seat beside her. “We’ve got to talk. There’s something you need to know. More than one something.”

  But he didn’t sit down. Before she could decide what to tell him first, he blurted, “Joy, I’ve got to tell you something too. I know it’ll hurt you, but you deserve to know.”

  She went very still, thinking, He’s dumping me. He stood before her with his eyes fixed on the ground, fists shoved into his pockets. In the lantern light the contours of his face were pure as marble sculpture, and her heart ached with his beauty and the dread that she was losing him.

  “The way I feel about you hasn’t changed,” he went on, “and I want to be with you more than anything.” She felt herself relax, until he mumbled, “But—sometimes Melisande and I still sleep together.”

  She managed an “oh.”

  “I’m sorry, Joy. I know it sounds like a cop-out to say I can’t help myself. But it seems like all she has to do is touch me and—” He saw her wince, and searched for different words. “I can’t say no to her, no matter how much I want to. I hate myself for being so weak. And it’s not even... it’s not the way it was with you and me.” Remembering that night, his voice softened. “That was the first time it felt like, well, making love. With her it’s like I’m being taken over or possessed or something, and I don’t even have a will of my own anymore. Maybe that’s what it’s like being a junkie, only she’s the drug. I hate her, I hate that I want her, but I can’t seem to stop.”

  She tried to force back the mental images that brought a hollow ache to her chest. It was like Maddie had said. But he could conquer the addiction. Couldn’t he?

  He took her silence as skepticism, and rushed on. “I swear I’m not giving you some bullshit excuse. I want to be faithful to you—”

  “Please shut up,” she said. “I believe you.”

  He stared at her for an incredulous moment, and then his shoulders sagged as if she had lifted some great weight from him. “Thank god. Do you—do you mind if I tell you something else?”

  A bit grimly, she said, “Go on.” Thinking, I probably don’t want to hear this.

  “After she and I are together—you know what I mean?”

  “Yes. I get it.”

  “It’s like all of the energy has been drained out of me. Like I’ve aged fifty years. And I never feel like I bounce back completely.”

  She thought of Gareth, his ravaged body, and felt cold. And she thought again that Tanner was thinner than he’d been in the spring, his already dramatic cheekbones more sharply prominent. “It wasn’t like that before?”

  He shook his
head, avoiding her eyes. “Not that bad. And I—I didn’t know it wasn’t normal before. Now... it scares me.”

  So it was part of a pattern, his lethargy at the open house when he had just left Melisande’s bed. And it was escalating? She took a deep breath, tried to keep calm. “Tanner, she’s draining your life away.”

  “I know she’s no good for me. Believe me, I wish I’d never gotten mixed up with her.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I mean it literally. She is actually drawing the life out of you and using you to stay young. When you and she—” She couldn’t call it making love. As he had said, this was something different. “She absorbs your life force when she has sex with you.”

  His brow furrowed. “But that’s not possible.”

  “I didn’t want to think so either at first. I know it’s hard to believe.” She could see him trying to come to grips with the idea, and she pressed on. “You’ve probably never heard of Gareth Godwin, but he was one of her protégés before you. She totally wrecked him, used him up. You should have seen him. He was like an old man, and according to all the sources I can find he’s only in his twenties.”

  “You spoke to this guy?”

  She could tell from his voice that he wasn’t sure whether to believe her. “He was terrified of her, Tan, even years later—and then he disappeared right after he talked to me.” She blamed herself for that; what if she’d somehow drawn Melisande’s attention to him? “Think about how many husbands and lovers she’s gone through. She feeds off them as long as they can give her what she needs, and then when she’s used them up she moves on to a new one.”

  Still he said nothing; maybe he thought she had lost her mind. “Remember the photos,” she said urgently. “The ones you told me about, on her dressing table. Those pictures of her with those old celebrities weren’t faked. That was her, all those years ago.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve gone back through the tabloid photos, and she hasn’t aged in decades. It’s more than Botox; it’s supernatural.”

  His face was ashen in the lantern’s light. “You mean she’s not human?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. It’s not normal, the effect she has on you. You said so yourself.” He didn’t argue; maybe she was finally getting through to him. “She’s evil, Tanner, and your life is in danger as long as you stay with her.”

  At last he sat down on the bench beside her, and buried his head in his hands. “I knew there was something off about her,” he whispered. “It’s crazy, but in a way it makes sense. There’s always been something about her that scared me.”

  Thank heaven, he believed her. That was the first step to getting him out of harm’s way.

  But that wasn’t the direction his thoughts were taking. “And if she’s that dangerous,” he said now, “that’s all the more reason to keep you out of it. She’s already got you in her sights, thanks to me.”

  “What?”

  “She knows I was with you on Beltane,” he said, his eyes sad and grave on hers. “I was an idiot to think I could keep it from her. I lied and told her you didn’t mean anything to me, but I don’t know if she believed me. And we can’t afford to take that chance now.”

  So Melisande knew about that night. That sent a chill through her, but she couldn’t stop to think about it now; it wasn’t the most urgent order of business. “Tan, listen. If you don’t get away from her, sooner or later she will suck all the life out of you. She’ll kill you.”

  He reached out to touch her cheek. “I never should have gotten you involved in this,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t even have come tonight. But I couldn’t stay away, once I knew you wanted me.” His hand dropped away from her face. “I’ve screwed everything up.”

  This wasn’t the Tanner she needed, defeatist and full of self-reproach. She needed rebellious Tanner, angry Tanner—even smartass Tanner, if only he would put up a fight against the doom closing in on him. “You didn’t know what she was,” she reminded him. “And I’m involved because I want to be. What’s important now is figuring out how to make sure you don’t end up like poor Gareth.”

  “I’m not worth worrying about. What’s important now is keeping you safe.” He hesitated, then said quietly, “This is the last time we can meet, Joy. It’s too dangerous for you.”

  “Don’t be ridic—”

  “I mean it, Joy. I wish it could be different, but I’m useless at protecting you from her. Like the day you came to the house—I wanted so much to see you, but I knew that if I did I wouldn’t be able to hide it from her. She always knows somehow… I guess that’s part of not being human.”

  Her heart sank as the realization broke over her that he couldn’t be entrusted with the other thing she had come here to tell him. Melisande would get it out of him. And Melisande must not know about the baby. Somehow, the creature would use the knowledge against her and Tan.

  She took his hands and held them tightly in hers.

  “Listen to me,” she commanded. “You’ve got to be on your guard. Don’t let her dope you with any of her herbal potions. And especially try not to let her seduce you again. If you can just hang on until your birthday, you’ll be free of her. She won’t have any hold over you then.” Please let me be right about that, she thought. What if Melisande was still working her wiles on him then? Could he bring himself to leave her?

  Or what if she drained him before then?

  He startled her by leaning forward, cupping her face in his hands, and kissing her lips with a gentle finality that pierced her. “I hope so,” he said softly. “I hope I’ll be free then and can come to you. But I can’t let you put yourself at risk any more. I’m ending this.”

  “No. I’m not giving you up.”

  “You have to.” He still held her face in his hands, studying her as this was the last time he’d ever see her—and maybe he meant it to be. “I won’t let you keep putting yourself in danger. If she did anything to you I’d—I couldn’t live. We stop this here, Joy.”

  “You don’t get to decide that,” she retorted. But there was no change to the finality in his face. Her mind groped desperately toward a solution. This couldn’t be the end. There had to be a way—

  “You shouldn’t go back,” she told him suddenly. “This is your best chance.”

  His brows knitted together. “What, make a run for it? Now? But I told you—”

  “How much worse off could you be? You’ve got to try, and tonight.” The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. “That house is like a fortress; once you go back, you’re trapped.” And from what he’d said, it might be too much to hope that he could hold out against Melisande’s supernatural allure, as painful as it was for her to acknowledge that. “We can’t take a chance on you being able to get out again. Just take your bike and go. Put as many miles between you and her as you can.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” he said slowly, adjusting to the idea. “But I don’t have any clothes or money. I don’t know how far I can get on just this tank of gas. Where can I go?”

  “There are shelters for underage runaways. Do a web search on your phone and find the nearest one.” She was already fumbling in her purse for anything that might be useful to him: money (not much), chewing gum, crackers (he didn’t need to know they were for morning sickness). “Take my debit card,” she said. “The PIN’s my birthday, July 28. And you can stop by my house and get some of my dad’s clothes. I don’t know how well they’ll fit, but they’ll be less conspicuous than a tux. There’s a key hidden under the flower pot next to the front door.”

  But doubts seemed to be creeping in. “I don’t know, Joy. I don’t have your strength—I’m not sure I can do it.”

  “Whatever strength of mine you need, it’s yours. I’m with you, all the way.” She kissed him fiercely, willing any toughness she had to enter into him, hoping that the force of her love would make him stronger. He could do this. He had to do this. “Go now,” she urged. “I won’t be able
to stop worrying until I know you’re safe hidden somewhere.”

  Maybe it was wishful thinking, but some of her energy had seemed to infuse him. “Okay, I’ll do it,” he said, with a reckless jut of his chin that made her heart lift. “You’re right, it’s our best chance.”

  She loved him for saying our. She gathered up the lantern, his helmet, and the flashlight, and they started down the path to the cemetery gate. “Maybe I’ll head to Georgia or Tennessee and look for a shelter there,” he added. “Being across the state line may help.”

  “That’s a good idea.” It was a hopeful sign that he could think about plans and strategy. She was finding it hard to think past the next twenty-four hours.

  His motorcycle was parked close to where she had flung her bike down at the side of the road. It didn’t take him long to get it started up. As she stood there ready to mount her bicycle, he held out his hand to her. She took it and held it for a second. Anything they wanted to say in these last moments would have to be said over the sound of the engine, and she didn’t feel like shouting.

  But every moment that she kept him here was time he could be using to get farther away from Melisande. She released his hand. He gave her one last long look before putting on his helmet. Then he kicked the bike into gear and sped out of sight.

  Much more slowly, she pedaled back to campus. Hoping she’d done the right thing, hoping that the next time she heard from him he’d be somewhere safe, far away from Melisande.