ARIANNE WOKE UP TO THE INCESSANT CHIRPING of her cell phone. A text message pounced on the screen like a dog wanting attention. She groaned, rubbing away what felt like the sand of the Mojave that had settled at the corners of her eyes. She tried to recall the chain of events that ended with her lying in bed. The leftover glow in the dark constellations on her ceiling provided no answers for her—an oracle gone mute years ago. She reached for her phone with jelly limbs and tapped the LCD screen to retrieve the message.
“Pick you up at eight for the memorial. Niko,” she read in a not-so-sexy raspy whisper. The desert sand had invaded her mouth as well. “How’d he get my…what time…” She tapped the screen again and the numbers 5:00 blinded her.
She struggled with the thin blanket that had once offered protection. Overnight, it had transformed into a straightjacket, weighing as much as a whale for all the strength it took Arianne to get the stifling piece of cloth off her. Houdini didn’t have this much trouble! She panted heavily, sweat drenching her T-shirt. An hour passed—according to her digital clock—before she could summon enough strength to tumble out of bed and crawl to her bathroom. And it was another half hour under pummeling hot water before she regained proper mobility.
Dressing had become a chore of epic proportions, one bra strap at a time. She couldn’t remember when she’d bought a pair of lead underwear. And the dress…she almost cried, even though she picked out the lightest fabric in her closet. Carrying a whale might be easier.
With a heave and a ho, she finished dressing. The buckles of her strappy wedges protested for about five minutes, but she managed to beat them into submission. Looking half decent in her black summer dress, she studied her limp hair. A braid.
A spritz of Vanilla Passion later, Arianne prepared herself to tackle the obstacle course that was the stairs.
What happened to me? she kept asking herself as she made her way to the kitchen with marshmallow knees and clammy fingers.
Her mother saw through her makeup disguise, almost dropping a plate when Arianne walked in. “Honey,” her mother said, cradling Arianne’s face in her warm hands, “are you okay? You look like death warmed over.”
“I’ve seen road kill look better,” her father added.
“Not helping, Jim!” The scowl she threw at her husband could have scared an army of barbarians.
He let it slide. “It’s probably just a cold, Helen.”
“We thought Carrie just had a cold!”
Before her father could reply, Arianne interjected. “Relax, Mom. I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. Late nights and all that. I’ve been doing some research…” She hung her white lies to dry in the kitchen for all to see. Then the doorbell rang. “That’s probably Niko,” she said, glancing toward the front door.
“I’ll get it.” Her father strode out of the kitchen with shoulders squared, ready for battle.
“Who’s Niko?”
Arianne stepped out of her mother’s reach with the pretense of grabbing a glass of orange juice. “A classmate of mine. He’s taking me to the wake for Tammy’s mom.” Her voice hitched at the end of the sentence. “Are you coming?”
“I can’t, honey. I have to be at the hospital today.” Her mother returned to preparing breakfast. “I wish you would come with me. Just a couple of tests, nothing major. I want to nip whatever you’re coming down with in the bud.”
“Mom, really, I’m fine.”
“At least promise me that you’ll go to the hospital if you start to feel worse.”
Ears burning from wanting to hear what her father and Niko discussed out front, Arianne inched closer to the kitchen entrance. “No worries. I will,” she said casually.
“Ari, your ride’s here.” Her father reentered the kitchen with Niko in tow.
She stared. In such a resplendent suit, he resembled someone from a time when dressing before leaving the house mattered—handsome and dashing. Who needs breakfast when you can wake up to that? Arianne swallowed to keep her mouth from overflowing. He gave her a quick glance, concern and slight panic flitting through his expression before he bravely faced her mother.
“Good morning, Mrs. Wilson,” he said. “I’ve come to escort Arianne to the memorial.”
If Arianne didn’t know any better, she would have thought Niko was going to reach out and kiss her mother’s hand like in those historical romance novels she’d found stashed away behind all the coats in her mother’s closet. And her mother seemed like she wanted Niko to do just that. He certainly had the aura of a nobleman.
“Guys your age still say ‘escort’?” her mother asked, hand splayed over her chest.
“Only those with an excellent vocabulary,” he answered.
“And you have a car?” She gave Niko an appraising stare.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You should see his Mustang, Helen. Worth drooling over,” her father said.
“Dad!” Arianne wanted to hide.
“Shall we, Ari?” Niko came to her side. “We wouldn’t want to be late.”
Arianne craved his hand, and as if he’d known her thoughts, he laced his fingers with hers.
“Mr. And Mrs. Wilson, it’s a pleasure meeting you,” he said.
“Give Carrie a kiss for me today,” Arianne said over her shoulder, allowing Niko to lead her out of the house.
“You two take care now,” her father called after them.
“Jim!”
Arianne drooped into the passenger seat, dead weight in the water. The moment she heard Niko close the driver’s seat door, she felt his arm reach across her and the seatbelt clicked into place, its fabric secure over her chest. Then his fingers trailed a now familiar path down her face.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“For what?” she sighed out.
“I don’t know what happened, but I intend to find out.”
Without opening her eyes, she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for coming with me today. I don’t think I could do it by myself.”
He kissed her cheek then started the car. The rumbling vibrations of the engine soothed her granny-knotted muscles. Fatigue refused to release her from its clutches. The gulp of juice she’d swallowed sloshed like the sea in her stomach. She wished she’d taken a bite of toast, but with the threat nausea posed, she doubted the bite would stay down.
After two lefts and a right down Maple, Niko said, “Are you sure you want to do this? I’d prefer that you stay home and rest.”
“Niko, I’m tired, not sick. And Tammy needs her friends with her right now.” Arianne turned her head until her cheek touched leather. The curtains of her eyelids rose, allowing her to study Niko’s profile. She caressed the side of his face, easing the tic on his jaw. “No frowning now. Although…”
“What?”
“Would it go to your head if I said you look really hot all brooding and dark?”
Like a magnet against the fridge, his gaze snapped onto hers. “Definitely.”
“Good.” She shut her eyes again and folded her hands over her lap. “How far away are we?”
“About ten minutes.”
The wheels switched from a steady hum on asphalt to the crunch of gravel. Arianne waited until Niko parked the car and opened her door before blinking. She met his gaze and still saw worry lines on his face. He tried to hide it with a smile as he helped her out of the car. She stumbled into his arms, and from then on, he held her closer than his heart, unwilling to let her go unless he was certain she wouldn’t fall.
They entered the little chapel that was filled to capacity. The Georgian summer that refused to leave kept the air-conditioning working double time. Still, many people fanned themselves. Arianne scanned the crowd and spotted Tammy sitting in the first row of pews. She wore a simple dress and wide sunglasses covered half her face. At the altar sat a black coffin with a spray of white lilies over the lid.
“Walk me up the aisle, will you?” She squeezed Niko’s hand on her waist.
“I won’t let you go unless you ask me to,” he whispered into her ear, sending the touch of feathers down her spine.
They navigated the crowd until they reached Tammy. She’d been sitting alone while her father and aunt mingled, accepting heartfelt condolences from anyone who’d come over to them.
Tammy stood and hugged Arianne the second they reached her. The sadness Arianne managed to hold back finally fell. “I’m so sorry, Tammy.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Tammy sobbed out.
Both girls sat down without letting go of one another. They’d stayed that way while Niko stood by them like a knight ready to ask anyone who dared disturb them to leave. He was a quiet strength that Arianne drew from, his presence ever solid and real.
When the memorial ended and the casket was taken away, Arianne whispered her good-byes to Tammy and her family. Some of her fatigue had lifted, and she’d handled walking to the entrance of the chapel with the grace of a newborn foal. Niko still hovered close, tense and ready for anything. The poor guy must be exhausted, she thought. Oh, wait, not human.
By the double doors stood Ben, somber in his Sunday suit. For the occasion, he’d favored his hair combed away from his face rather than imprisoning the sandy locks in his signature baseball cap.
“Ari,” he said as he enveloped her with his body. “Niko,” he greeted over her shoulder.
“We haven’t formally met,” Niko said. “Nikolas Clark. It’s nice to meet you.”
Arianne felt Ben shake Niko’s hand more than saw it. She pulled away from Ben to face Niko. “Can Ben take me home? I really want to talk to him about something.” She hoped her eyes did the explaining.
Niko read the silent message she sent him. “Call you later?”
“Thank you.” She gave Niko a kiss on the cheek then turned to a slightly confused Ben. “Brought your truck?”
Arianne did a quick face check on the mirror of the sun visor. No more dark circles and gaunt cheeks. Ben had pulled out of the parking space in a calm-before-the-storm sort of way. Now with helium limbs and oxygenated lungs, Arianne worried the skirt of her dress.
“What’s between you and Niko Clark? He had his hands all over you throughout the memorial,” Ben said tightly.
“Nothing that you and Carrie wouldn’t do,” she fired back.
Ben pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine. He twisted so he came face to face with Arianne. Shock, then surprise, then understanding flew across his features.
“Yesterday.” He opted out of the staring contest by dropping his gaze. “That’s why you never came by.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anger, unexpected, rose up from the depths of her heart. Her plans of calmly confronting Ben about his secret relationship with Carrie flew out the window.
“Carrie didn’t want anyone to know.”
“I’m not anyone, Ben!”
“Especially you.”
That hurt. “Why?”
Ben handed her a handkerchief he’d fished out of his jacket pocket. She slapped his offering away then thought better of it. She grabbed the cloth and blew into it with relish. Then she used the clean side to plug the leak that dripped from her eye corners.
Undaunted, Ben soldiered on. “Ari, Carrie didn’t want anyone worrying more about her than they already are. Especially you. If she doesn’t make it—”
“How can you think that?”
“Not my thoughts. It’s Carrie’s.”
Arianne’s eyes hurt before she realized she’d been stretching their lids wide open. “Why would she think that?”
Ben massaged the back of his neck. “She says she’s being realistic. But I don’t buy it for a second.”
“How long have you two been together?”
“I love her, Ari,” he said, barely above a heartrending whisper. “There are days when I tell myself I should savor every moment I have with her, but there are also days when I’m so angry that I want to beat someone up. Then I realized what I’m really angry about is a sickness that’s out of my control.” A muscle on his cheek jumped as he let his tears fall. “I don’t want her to die.”
Arianne gave him the comfort of her arms. “Take me to Saint Joseph’s.”
Throughout the ride, Arianne let her anger seethe. She did her best to comfort Ben, realizing the person she really wanted to confront was Carrie. She didn’t wait for Ben to kill the engine before she rushed out of his truck and ran full tilt to her sister’s room. Several nurses called out to remind her about the no running policy in the hospital, but Arianne didn’t listen. She turned a corner and sped down the hall just as Mila wheeled Carrie out of her room.
“Ari?” Carrie looked up. “What are you doing here?”
Arianne skidded to a stop and addressed Mila. “I need to talk to Carrie for a sec.”
Mila shook her head. “She’s due for her tests. Your mom actually just stepped out to grab lunch.”
“Mila, please.” Arianne grabbed at the wheelchair, prepared not to let go until she had her way.
“Mila—” Carrie reached behind her and squeezed the nurse’s hand “—will you give us a couple of minutes?”
“But you’ll be late for your tests,” Mila insisted.
Carrie brought out the big guns by smiling like a supernova. “Please? You can have whoever is after me go first. I don’t mind waiting.”
The nurse looked from Carrie to Arianne, her eyebrows knitted together in consternation. Her mistake was to return her gaze to Carrie, who’d redoubled her smiling efforts. Mila’s stern expression melted until her lips finally relaxed. She backed up into the room and parked Carrie beside the bed.
“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” she said, followed by a finger wag. “No more.”
“Thank you, Mila,” Carrie said.
Arianne waited for Mila to leave the room before she crossed her arms. Ben finally caught up with her. He bent over and clutched his knees, sucking in large quantities of air.
“For a baseball player, you’re pretty out of shape,” Arianne said.
“I’m not panting because I’m winded,” Ben replied in between breaths. “Give your sister a break, Ari.”
“Ben?” Carrie’s voice sounded so small. Concern took over the calm in her expression.
He moved to her side and lowered himself to his knees. “I’m so sorry, love.”
Carrie touched Ben’s cheek with a trembling hand before she focused her attention on Arianne. “You can’t tell Mom or Dad.”
“And why not?” Arianne felt her ire rise as heat in her throat. “You know it’s not fair to Ben that you’re leading him on this way. Jesus, Carrie!”
“Ari!” Ben stood, a gladiator ready to defend.
Carrie clutched at his suit sleeve before he could move. He looked down at her and she shook her head. “It’s okay,” she said to him. “I can handle this.”
He melted into the bedside chair and waited.
“Of course it’s not okay, Carrie,” Arianne said. “What the hell are you thinking?”
“That I want to live the rest of the life I have left happy,” Carrie said. “I didn’t want anyone to know because I wanted to keep a little something to myself. My life is about being poked and prodded on a daily basis. Countless doctors and nurses have seen every part of me and more. I wanted a secret, a treasure that I could keep close to my chest that would get me through the hard days. The days when hope jumps out the window.” Crystalline tears glistened down the too tight skin of Carrie’s face. “You’re not angry because I didn’t tell you.”
“So you’re saying you know why I’m here like a fire breathing dragon ready to tear heads off?” Of their own volition, Arianne’s legs brought her steps closer to where Carrie and Ben sat.
“I’m your sister. Of course I know why you’re angry.” Carrie raised her arms and spread them wide. “I’m sorry that I can’t be that girl who used to climb trees or jump into the lake with you, Ari.”
Shaky knees buckling, Arianne folded into the arms of her sister. She snaked her own arms around Carrie’s thin waist and sobbed into her hospital gown. “I’m selfish.”
“Of course you are.” Carrie stroked the red strands of Arianne’s hair.
“I wanted you all to myself.”
“Of course you do. But that doesn’t mean we can’t let Ben in, right?”
Arianne looked up at her saint of a sister. Their tears mirrored one another. “But he’s in so much pain,” she said.
Carrie stared into Arianne’s eyes and said, “We all are. But that doesn’t mean we should deprive ourselves of being happy.”
Ben stood up and brought both his girls into the shelter of his wide reach. “Can we stop the waterworks now?” he asked.
Both Carrie and Arianne laughed through the last drops of rain. Like wind blowing through a storm, the heavy clouds in the room parted to let the sunlight in. Arianne smiled as Carrie kissed Ben on the cheek.
That evening, all dry-eyed, Arianne lay beside Ben on his back lawn. They held hands, stargazing. The vastness of the sky blanketed everything around them. Crickets played their Ode to the Stars in B minor.
“When did you and Niko Clark happen?” Ben asked.
“You don’t have to keep calling him by his whole name, you know.” A shooting star of a smile crossed her lips.
“But he’s not human, right?”
“Yup.”
“Do you already know what he is?”
“Still working on that.”
Ben turned to his side and propped his head up with his fist. “And you’re okay that he’s not human?”
“Does it matter?” She kept staring at the stars.
“He might be dangerous.”
“Not to me.”
“How sure are you?”
“Ninety percent.”
“I don’t like those odds.” He resettled onto his back. “But I won’t stop you.”
Arianne sat up to stare down at him. “You won’t?”
“Are you happy with him?”
“Deliriously. I never thought he’d show interest in me. And his kisses—”
“Whoa!” Ben held up his hand. “Again with the too-much-information. As long as you’re happy, I’m down with him being with you. But if he hurts you, I don’t care if he’s not human, I will go all Chainsaw Massacre on his ass.”
Arianne giggled. “I bet you will.”
“Thank you for being cool about Carrie and me.”
The contentment in his voice melted away any other concerns Arianne might have about their relationship. “Carrie deserves to be happy. And you are that for her, so I can’t complain.”
He looked her in the eye. “What are you going to do about Darla? Judging from her face and how fast she ran out of the memorial, she’s not over you.”
She groaned. “I should have known she’d be there. She’d already warned me in the library the other day.”
“She’s going to give Niko hell come Monday, you know that, right?”
“I’m dreading it.”