In the Garden of Sin (32 page)

“Come here,” he said quietly, taking her in his arms and pressing her head to his chest. “I know, my love…
mins Nyidís
. I know. What your heart feels, mine feels, too.”

Mins Nyidís
. In the
dönsk tunga
, it meant “my Goddess of the New Moon,” which was what she had been a very long time ago in ancient Babylonia; it was what the disc of lapis lazuli on her anklet represented. He liked to call her that, to remind her that a goddess was not only what she had been, but what she still was.
You are the same as you always were
, he would say.
The humans just can’t see it anymore
.

“I don’t begrudge you your pleasure with other women,” she said. “I don’t think I would even if you and I could make love. You’re not like humans, nor am I. We need what we need. But sometimes, when I watch you take a woman, and I see you lose yourself in her arms, I just…” She shook her head against his chest. “There’s always a whisper of despair in the background, knowing that what you’re sharing with these strangers, you can never share with me.”

“You’re not alone in that,” he said, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “It’s the same for me, sometimes even worse. You know that.”

Lili may not have been prone to jealousy, but there had been a handful of times when Elic’s resentment of her attraction to certain humans had actually caused rifts between them. And then there was the physical frustration he had to contend with, because although he could make her climax, she couldn’t do the same for him. When he became highly aroused with no opportunity for relief, it could be excruciating.

She sometimes wondered how he’d managed to put up with their semiplatonic relationship for as long as he had.

“I know it’s hard for you, Elic. And I’m sorry to let it get to me like this. After two and a half centuries, you’d think I would have stopped pining for something we can never have.”

Tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes, he said, “We have what’s most important, Lili. We may not be able to share our bodies, but we share our souls. Before I met you, I thought that kind of love was something I would never experience, that I would be alone forever.”

As had Lili. Using human beings for sexual sustenance was one thing; forming a permanent attachment was quite another. Not only did humans grow old and die with heartbreaking speed, they could never really comprehend and accept the incubitic need for frequent, highly charged sexual encounters. But Elic and Lili understood this and so much more. They understood each other; their bond really was soul-deep.

Two sex-crazed Follets who were madly in love but couldn’t have sex… The irony didn’t strike Lili as remotely amusing.

Elic dipped his head and touched his lips to hers. Taking each other in their arms, they shared a kiss that was deep and dizzying. Lili drew away when she felt his cock rise up hard between them, an ingrained habit to avoid subjecting him to the often agonizing sexual frustration that was the bane of his existence.

“It’s all right,” he said, pulling her back into his arms. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be taken care of soon.”

She turned her head as he lowered his mouth to hers. “Go, then. Don’t make her wait for you or she might leave, and you’ll have to find yourself another
arkhutu.”

Would he kiss this Alison Southway when he took her in the stable? Probably. He usually kissed them; Elic was not one to restrain a sensual impulse of any kind.

The edge of bitterness in Lili’s voice wasn’t lost on Elic. He sighed as his erection waned. “Lili—”

A knock came at the door. “You guys in there?” It was Inigo. “We’ve got a late arrival.”

Prying Elic’s arms from around her, Lili turned and went to the door. Elic whispered something under his breath and followed her out into the courtyard.

“Bitchin’ little roadster just pulled up.” Inigo, naked from the waist up but still wearing his top hat, pointed to the gatehouse as he strode toward the fountain. A redheaded wench stood in the water in just her sodden, transparent chemise, scrubbing his already clean shirt in the water sluicing off the statue.

Through the gatehouse’s arched passageway, Lili saw the two guards, Mike and Luc, talking to someone in the driver’s seat of a streamlined little black convertible. Luc straightened up to inspect something in his hand—a card of entrée, no doubt. Tucking it in his back pocket, he opened the car door and handed out the driver, a woman. Mike hefted a jumbo-size suitcase, a garment bag, and a black leather tote bag out of the trunk, but the woman snatched the latter two out of his hand.

Their visitor was statuesque in the extreme, her height accentuated by the stiletto-heeled boots she wore with tight, glossy black leggings. Her raven hair fell sleekly to her waist except for blunt-cut bangs that echoed the line of her mirrored wraparound sunglasses.

Reaching into the tote bag, she withdrew a small, shiny gold object—perfume, Lili realized when she sprayed it liberally onto her throat and chest. Slinging both the garment bag and tote over her shoulder, she tossed her car keys at Luc and sauntered across the drawbridge with a leggy, hip-rolling stride, her hair flowing out behind her so that Lili could get a
look at the upper half of her outfit. It was all black leather: opera-length fingerless gloves and a top comprised of crisscrossing buckled straps securing a pair of breastplates that shoved those puppies up high and round.

“I don’t think Tony Prozac will be asking me out on any more dates,” Lili said. “Unless I’m mistaken, this would be the scary tranny girlfriend.”

HAT’S NO TRANNY,” Elic said sotto voce as they walked toward the gatehouse.

Glancing up at him, Lili saw
that look
in his eye. “Oh my God,” she whispered, “you think she’s hot. She looks like something out of a graphic novel, like if Wonder Woman went over to the Dark Side.”

“You must be Mistress G.” Elic extended his hand with a welcoming smile as they approached their new guest just inside the courtyard.

“You recognize me,” the dominatrix said as she shook Elic’s hand. She had a smoky film noir voice. “Been talking about me behind my back,
marish
?”

The question was utterly bewildering to Lili until she realized that Mistress G’s eyes, concealed behind the mirrored shades, were aimed at someone else.

Lili and Elic both turned to find Anthony Prazak standing about twenty feet away in front of the bench he’d occupied earlier, his hands at his sides, staring at his girlfriend. The dark glasses hid his eyes, but his fair complexion had gone ashen. The handcuffs he’d been fiddling with earlier were lying on the ground.

“N-no,” he said with a wooden shake of his head. “No, I… Honest, Galiana, I haven’t talked about you at all.”

“Another guest mentioned you in passing,” Lili said.

“Galiana?” Elic said. “What a beautiful name.”

Galiana slid down her sunglasses to get a better look at him, revealing the “Cleopatra eyes” Blaine had spoken of, rendered all the more exotic with generous, expertly tapering strokes of liquid eyeliner. Her lips were stained with the kind of purplish red lipstick that made most women’s mouths look clownish, but made hers look as if it was just aching to suck hard on a big, dripping cock.

She cast a fleeting, ho-hum glance at the three-ring circus of deviance taking place in the courtyard, then returned her gaze to Elic, pushed the shades back up and said, “Do you intend to introduce us, Tony?”

Taking a few steps in their direction, Prazak cleared his throat and did the honors, informing her in an oddly strained voice that Lili and Elic lived at the château, as did Inigo, whom he pointed out, and Elic’s sister, Elle.

“Is that the new Alfa Romeo Spider you’re driving?” Lili asked.

“Lili’s crazy about sports cars,” Elic said.

Galiana said, “Yeah, the rental company tried to sell me on a Peugeot, but I just had to get my hands on that Spider.”

“I don’t blame you,” Lili said. “I did cartwheels when they reintroduced it, but I haven’t had the chance to get behind the wheel of one yet.”

“You can give mine a spin any time you want.”

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on that.”

“So, Elic,” Galiana said, giving him a lingering appraisal, “you’re our host and a footman both?” Her wine-red lips curved up slightly at the edges. “You’re not exempt from doing the bidding of your superiors, I hope.”

“I am not, my lady,” Elic said with a little duck of the head that made Lili’s teeth hurt. “I do, however, have other things I must attend to from time to time. In fact, even as we speak, I’m due in the stable to provide my Lady Alison with a mount.”

Oh, brother
, Lili thought.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said.

Galiana watched him walk away through the gatehouse. As she turned back around, she plucked a cigarette from inside her left breastplate. No sooner did she slide it between her lips than Prazak was right there, thumbing a gold lighter.

Galiana scrutinized Lili’s blue satin gown over the top of her reflective shades as she drew on the cigarette. She Frenched the smoke, letting it billow luxuriantly from her mouth for a moment before sucking it back in. As she exhaled it in Lili’s direction, she said, “That dress. It’s the real thing, isn’t it?”

Lili nodded. “My friend Elle collects vintage clothing. She’s donated the oldest and most historically significant things to the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum in New York. Others she keeps here.”

Indicating Lili’s gown, Galiana said, “It’s held up remarkably well.”

“Elle stores everything in special, acid-free wrappings in a windowless room where the air is ionized and kept at a constant sixty degrees. She even has names for some of the garments. This one is
il vestito dallo zaffiro
. It means—”

“The sapphire gown.”

“Yes.”

“I’m from Italy originally.”

“Really? You don’t have a trace of an accent.”

“I haven’t lived there for a very long time. What I don’t understand is why your friend, who takes such care with her collection, allows you to actually
wear
a dress that has to be— what, almost four hundred years old?”

“The pieces she keeps here are meant to be worn from time to time. She makes sure they’re properly cleaned, and mended if necessary, before they go back into the collection. You’re dead on about the age of this gown, by the way. It’s late Renaissance, from the first half of the seventeenth century.”

“That’s obvious from the sleeves. It was made for a Venetian courtesan, I assume.”

“You’re good.”

Galiana smiled coolly. “I’ve owned quite a few garments from past centuries myself. The ‘courtesan’ part is a no-brainer, given the peekaboo bodice, which, by the way, screams Venice. You could always tell where a courtesan was from by what she wore. Venice, Rome, Padua, Florence… Each city had its own distinct style of dress.”

“Interesting,” Lili said, although she’d remembered that from her travels through Italy in those years.

“Whatever possessed this friend of yours to give away her most important pieces to the Met when she could have kept them all to herself?” Galiana asked.

“Why does anyone donate things to a museum?” Lili shrugged. “She wanted others to be able to enjoy them, too.”

Galiana’s mouth quirked. “The whole philanthropy thing has always struck me as a tad ingenuous.”

Not quite sure how she was supposed to respond to that, Lili said, “Are you still into vintage clothes?”

Galiana shook her head as she drew on her cigarette. “I never really was. I’ve never even been to a costume exhibit at the Met. When I go there, it’s strictly for the art. In fact, this—” She twitched the garment bag. “—was inspired by a painting in their collection,
Judith with the Head of Holofernes
by Lucas Cranach the Elder. He painted several versions, but the one at the Met is the best. Are you familiar with the Old Testament story?”

“Holofernes was an enemy of Judith’s people, right? And she took him out?”

“He was an Assyrian general who was besieging her city. When he was passed out drunk, she grabbed him by the hair and chopped off his head with his own sword. Took two strokes, so I’m thinking the first one probably roused him from his stupor. What a way to wake up, huh?” Galiana asked laughingly. “With a foxy, spitting-mad, sword-wielding babe standing over you and your blood spraying everywhere?”