Abandon (26 page)

Mom had not only left the pool lights on, she’d left the waterfall running, too. The water cascaded from a blue and green tile wall at the far end of the pool. I walked over to the little cottage where we kept all the rafts and cleaning equipment and opened the door. I’d already seen that the creature struggling in the water
was a bright green gecko. Now he was in danger of being sucked into the filter.

“Hold on,” I said to him, pulling out one of the long-handled poles with a net on the end the pool guy used for scooping out debris. “I’ve got you.”

Seconds later, I’d scooped the gecko up and dropped him from the net onto the leaf of a hibiscus bush. Stunned at first, he just sat there. Then, seeming to realize he wasn’t going to die, he leaped away.

The applause seemed to come out of nowhere. I was so startled, I dropped the long silver pole into the pool. It splashed before sinking to the bottom.

“You didn’t,” John said, stepping from the shadows as he clapped for me, “even hit your head this time.”

S
eriously.” I pressed
a hand over my heart. It was pounding so hard, I thought I was going into cardiac arrest. “You
have
to stop doing that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, lowering his hands to his sides.

He stood across the bright blue water, as tall and intimidating as ever, and still dressed all in black as usual, which was probably how I hadn’t noticed him in the shadows.

But something about him was different. At first I thought it was his eyes. Maybe they were reflecting the blue light from the pool, because they seemed to be shining as brightly as it was.

But then I realized it was something else.

And when I did, I gasped.

“Wait,” I said, taking a few hesitant steps around the edge of
the pool towards him so I could get a better look at his expression. “Did you just say what I
think
you said?”

He stayed where he was. He looked wary, like the gecko had when it fell onto the hibiscus leaf…like
What just happened? Is this some kind of trap?

“What?” he said defensively.

“You did,” I said in disbelief. When I reached him — he never moved a muscle the whole time I padded, barefoot, around the edge of the pool towards him, until I was standing just a foot away from him — I could see it etched in his face, in the glow from the landscape lights, and the wavy reflection the water was casting up from the pool. “You just said you were sorry.”

His weight shifted uncomfortably. So did his gaze. He looked at the pool instead of my face.

“I was only apologizing,” he said stiffly, “for startling you. The applause was to compliment you on the improvement in your life-saving techniques since the last time you —”

“No,” I said, holding up one hand, palm out. “Stop. Just stop. We need to talk.
Really
talk. I promise I won’t call you names if you promise not to try to kill anyone.”

His gaze shifted back to mine. I read a myriad of emotions in his eyes in that moment — anger, shame, confusion, pain among them — before it fell to my necklace.

“You’re wearing it,” he said in a voice I’d never heard him use before.

“Yes,” I said. My heart still hadn’t stopped its loud thumping. The way he was looking at me wasn’t helping.

“I saw Richard find it this morning,” he said. “I saw you go into his office tonight.”

So he
had
been there. I should have known. No wonder the weather had been so awful.

That’s when I realized what it was that had been in his voice…the thing I’d never heard before.

Fear. He was afraid. Afraid of what Richard Smith might have told me.

“Yes,” I said again. “Look —” I glanced around. Though Uncle Chris had put all the outdoor furniture in the garage, there was a single spot where the uncompromising heat had already dried out a section of flagstone by the side of the pool.

“Come here,” I said, reaching for one of his hands.

He took a step backwards — not exactly yanking his fingers away but not willing to let me touch him. Yet.

“It’s all right,” I said in what I hoped sounded like a soothing voice. He really
was
like that gecko — unsure what we humans might do to him. “I just want to sit down somewhere that’s dry. It’s what I like, remember? Being dry.”

I don’t think he got the joke. He continued to eye me suspiciously as I seized his hand and pulled him towards the spot where I wanted to sit down…and even after I let go of his hand and sat down at the edge of the pool, putting both my feet in the cool water, he just stood there for a moment, looking at me as if he couldn’t figure out what, exactly, was going on.

I decided to ignore him. This is what you did with wild things, I’d learned from my volunteering with animal rescue groups. It
worked. Let them figure out on their own that you aren’t a threat, that you aren’t even interested in them at all, really.

Then, eventually, if you were very lucky,
they
come to
you.

Which, after a while, John did, sitting cross-legged beside me…but looking prepared to take off at the slightest sign of danger. Which was ironic, considering he was a death deity.

I didn’t even think about suggesting he take the boots off. There’d probably be an apocalypse or something.

Somewhere in the yard, the cicada, which had taken a break, started up again. Fortunately, the sound of the falling water was strong enough to drown out it and the frogs.

“What did Richard say?” he asked finally, after we’d sat there for a minute in total silence. He seemed stunned, which I guess was understandable. I’d neither screamed, called him names, nor thrown anything at him, a first in our relationship. He had to be wondering what the cemetery sexton could possibly have said to produce this change in my attitude towards him.

“Well,” I said slowly. I couldn’t quite believe myself that any of this was happening. I wasn’t quite sure
how
it was happening. If anyone had told me, even an hour earlier, that it was going to, I never would have believed them.

But now, somehow, it seemed natural.

Be sweet. That’s what Richard had said.

Well, that was one man’s opinion.

“He said this necklace had killed a thousand people,” I said.

John immediately tensed up, as if he were going to get up and leave — or possibly throw me in the pool.

“Hey,” I said in what I hoped was still a soothing voice, reaching out and laying a hand on his knee. “You asked what he said. I’m just telling you.”

The hand seemed to work. He stayed where he was, the tension leaving his body.

“That wasn’t the necklace,” he said, scowling. “Do you think I’d give you something that kills people? Why would I do that? The Furies did that because they were angry that the stone wasn’t being used by the person for whom it was intended.”

“And who is that?” I asked.

John scowled some more. “You know perfectly well who. Richard said he told you. Are you
flirting
with me?”

“Of course not,” I said, hoping he couldn’t tell in the pool lights that I was blushing. “I’m just trying to keep the facts straight. Mr. Smith talked an awful lot about the Furies.”

He frowned. “Richard’s obsessed with the Furies.”

“Well,” I said, “they seem pretty awful. He said they’re the spirits of the dead who are unhappy with where they ended up.”

He scowled some more, but at the pool, not me. “That’s more or less accurate.”

“And you told me,” I said, “they’re the ones who do the punishing if people break the rules in your world. That’s how you got these?” I traced a scar on one of his hands, which was resting near mine.

For once, he didn’t jerk his hand away. Though his gaze did leave the water and focused on my fingers instead.

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“And now there are Furies after me,” I said.

Now that bright silver gaze finally turned full on my face.

“There aren’t any Furies after you,” he said. He looked genuinely puzzled. “Why should there be?”

“Well,” I said.
Because you chose me,
I wanted to say. Like Hades chose Persephone. I opted to play it safe, however, in case he accused me of flirting again, and settled instead for saying, “Because you gave me the necklace.”

“And you threw a cup of tea in my face,” he reminded me drily. “Then you left. I’m fairly certain even the Furies got
that
message loud and clear. They’re hardly likely to come after someone who hates me just as much as they do. In fact, the Furies probably consider you one of their closest allies.”

I moved my hand away from his, stung…even if most of what he’d said was true. Well, the tea part, anyway.

“I told you, I only did that because I was scared,” I said. “And I’m not a Fury. Although I don’t think it would hurt if you checked yourself a little more often, before you went around wrecking yourself.” When he just stared at me, uncomprehending, I explained, “You could be slightly more hospitable to guests when they arrive in your world, and you could also not go around trying to murder innocent people all the time, like that jeweler you almost killed.”

He looked indignant. “He wasn’t
innocent.
He was an ass. He should never have touched you. He deserved everything he got.”

I lifted my gaze to the stars, which burned cold and clear above us, now that the clouds had parted. Because Isla Huesos was so small and so far from the mainland and any major city, I could see way more stars in my backyard here than I’d ever been able
to see in my backyard in Westport. Sometimes I even caught glimpses of the Milky Way.

“John,” I said, fighting for patience. “Mr. Smith told me Furies can possess any human they want to, if they have a weak enough character.”

“They can,” John said, sounding skeptical. “But they hardly ever do unless it’s to punish me somehow. So I still don’t understand why you think they would come after you, when you’ve made it so clear you want nothing to do with me.”

I lowered my gaze from the stars to look at him. He was so frustrating.

“Why
else
do you think that old man was so interested in the necklace?” I demanded. “If he wasn’t a Fury?”

“Maybe because he was a jeweler,” he pointed out.

I buried my face in my hands. How was I ever going to get through to him?

“What about my teacher, Mr. Mueller?” I asked from between my fingers. “Are you trying to tell me
he’s
not a Fury?”

“You just admitted to me last night that you put
yourself
in that danger,” John said. I saw, when I lowered my hands, his expression darken. “You willingly walked into it in order to trap him. He didn’t come after you.”

I wanted to correct him. Mr. Mueller had very much come after me, by going after my best friend.

But he hadn’t killed Hannah. She’d killed herself. Still…

“What he did to Hannah was wrong,” I said. “Someone needed to stop him.”

“But you didn’t
really
want him dead,” he said. In the dancing blue light cast by the pool, his expression was half grave, half amused. “You know how you are, Pierce. You came out of the house at midnight to scoop a lizard out of the swimming pool to save it from dying.”

“How do you know that?” I asked wonderingly. “Unless…” I broke off, staring at him, realization dawning at last. “Wait. You threw that lizard into the pool. You knew I’d see it and come out here to save it, and then you could talk to me. Didn’t you?”

He didn’t even bother denying it. Instead, he leaned forward until his face was just inches from mine to counter, “If Richard Smith told you so many terrible things about that necklace, like that it killed a thousand people, and that Furies would come after any girl I gave it to in order to hurt me through her — which you obviously believe or you wouldn’t be asking me all these questions — why are you still wearing it? I thought you hated me because I’m such a jerk.”

My pulse gave a violent leap. Was it because of the question — he’d seen right through me — or his sudden proximity?

“I do,” I said, climbing to my feet in what I hoped looked like an indignant manner, though inwardly, I was shaking. “In fact, I’m going back inside. In the future, John, I would appreciate it if you would stay on your side of the island, and I will stay on mine. Also if you didn’t try to kill people — or lizards — to get my attention. Good night.”

But I hadn’t gone more than a single step before my hand was seized. The next thing I knew, he was pulling me back — just as I’d taken him by the hand and pulled him earlier.

Only he hadn’t even bothered to get up. He merely pulled me into his lap.

I was so surprised to find myself there, at first I could only stare up at his face in shock, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

“John,” I started to say. “You really can’t just —” Then his lips came down over mine. And all of it — the sound of the waterfall, and the croaking frogs, and the whine of the cicada, and the lights at the base of the palm trees, and the wavy blue reflection of the pool water over everything — went away, and it was only about John and the hardness of his arms as they tightened around me, and the wood-smoke smell of him, and the softness of his hair beneath my fingers, and the way I could feel his heart drumming against mine, and the fact that I couldn’t believe any of this was happening, couldn’t believe it had never happened before, couldn’t believe I’d never
allowed
it to happen before, never wanted it to stop.…

“Wait,” I said breathlessly, pulling my mouth away from his. “John. Wait.” I had to put a hand to his chest and physically push him back.
“Wait a minute. ”

“What?” His arms hadn’t loosened their hold on me one iota. “What’s wrong?”

What was wrong? Everything. Nothing. I didn’t know. I couldn’t think. I felt as if the Milky Way, hovering above our heads like a celestial pitcher, had suddenly overturned, pouring suns and planets down my throat. Stars seemed to be shooting out of my fingers and toes, the ends of my hair.