A Chalice of Wind (22 page)

“Hey yourself,” I said as he put me on my feet again.

Still smiling, he glanced around the room, and then suddenly, his face paled and he froze.

“What is it?” I asked. I whirled to see what he was looking at. To my surprise, Thais was standing in the dining room doorway, wearing the same thunderstruck, horrified expression that Andre had.

“Luc,” she breathed, looking like death.

“L
uc?” Clio said to me. “No. This is Andre, my boyfriend. Andre, this is my sister, Thais.”

Luc didn’t say anything, just stared at me. His face looked grim and white, and tension made his body as tight as a bowstring.

I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach, the wind knocked out of me. I tried to swallow. Luc still had his arm around Clio’s waist. I’d seen him kissing her, seen him pick her up and whirl her off her feet. Luc dropped his hand and stood apart from Clio, not touching her, and I saw a look of alarm come over her face.

“Luc,” I said again numbly, my voice sounding broken, brittle as glass. By now people around us had started to realize that something weird and much more interesting than the party was happening, and heads were turning.

Just last night, we’d lain in the wet grass on the levee, and he’d held me while I’d cried and told me he wished he could have no memory of making love to anyone but me. I’d even come close to giving him that memory, against every grain of logic in me. Now I’d just seen him kiss my sister, kiss her deeply on the mouth, their hands on each other as if they knew each other very, very well. God, had
they
. . . ?

At that moment, I knew I was going to be sick. I turned and raced upstairs. I found a small bathroom and slammed the door shut in back of me. I made it to the toilet just in time, just as all the pain and horror and disbelief made my stomach turn inside out.

I don’t know how long I was up there, but I had washed my face and was sitting on the floor against the tub when I realized someone was knocking on the door. If it was either Clio or Luc, I would stab them through the heart.

“Go away,” I croaked, fresh tears starting to my eyes
. Stop it, idiot!
I lashed out at myself.

Still, the door opened and Della, one of Clio’s friends, came in. She wore a sympathetic look and held a can of Sprite. “Drink this,” she said. “It’ll help settle your stomach.”

Given how much alcohol I suspected Clio and her friends put away, I figured she knew what she was talking about. I took it and sipped. It was deliciously cold and fresh, and it tasted incredible. “ Thanks,” I muttered, feeling more wretched than I had since my father had died.

Della leaned back against the tub next to me. “Well,” she said brightly, “this is one party people won’t forget anytime soon.”

A quick, surprised laugh escaped my throat, and I envied her so much, to be able to look at this situation in that way. “Nope,” I agreed, bleak again. “What’s going on downstairs?”

“World War Three,” Della said matter-of-factly. “Needless to say, people are slinking out the door as fast as they can, and the ones who want to stay and see the fireworks are getting herded out by Racey and Eugenie. So it appears your guy was two-timing you both.”

A fresh pain stabbed me, and I almost choked on the Sprite. “It appears that way,” I managed to say.

“Clio is furious—throwing things at him and trying to kick his ass out of here, but he’s out front, saying he won’t leave until he talks to you.”

“Why?” I was flabbergasted. “I don’t want to hear anything he says.”

Della shrugged. “Don’t blame you. Still, he says he’s not leaving till he talks to you.”

My jaw set as a welcome wave of fury lit inside me. “Fine,” I snapped, getting to my feet. “I’ll go talk to him.”

As I stomped downstairs, I refused to dwell on how utterly humiliated I felt and instead seized the anger that was consuming me inside. In the dining room, Kris and Eugenie glanced up as they snapped plastic lids onto dip bowls. They took one look at my face and quickly feigned no interest in the horrible soap opera that was playing out in front of them.

Clio was standing in her open front door, her body arched and taut as she yelled at Luc. I saw his outline in the small front yard, right before the gate. His hands were held wide, and I couldn’t imagine what he could possibly be saying to defend himself.

Clio whirled when she felt my angry footsteps vibrating the floorboards. We stared at each other, taking in the other’s furious expression, and for an instant, a bolt of pain shot into my heart as I pictured her and Luc together.

“Get rid of him!” Clio snarled. “Before I start whipping steak knives at him.”

I nodded grimly and strode past her to the open door. Clio crossed her arms and stood behind me. I didn’t know if it was to lend support or to make sure he and I didn’t somehow end up together.

“What do you want?” I demanded when I was close enough. My voice was thrumming with fury—I could hardly speak. Even to myself I sounded like a cornered, spitting cat, growling deep in its throat before it struck.

“Thais.” Luc took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He was frowning, his jaw set, his eyes dark with emotion.

“Clio told you to go,” I bit out. “So go.” I forbade myself to look vulnerable, hurt, or heartbroken. All of which I was, of course.

Luc glanced at Clio, then stepped forward, his eyes on my face. “ Thais,” he said again in a low voice. “I never meant to hurt you or Clio. I never meant for this to happen.”

“How could it
not!
” I exclaimed. “What were you
thinking,
you bastard?”

“Neither of you mentioned having a sister,” he said. “I actually didn’t know if you knew each other.”

“So what?”
I exploded. “
You
knew we were sisters! Not only sisters, but
twins! You
knew what you were doing! And you were lying through your teeth and using us. You even gave us different names! I don’t even know your name! How long did you expect to get away with it?” I shook my head in disbelief. “I know the lies you were telling
me,
” I said in a lower voice. “I don’t even want to think about what you were doing with Clio.”

“Maybe he was hoping for a three-way,” Clio said behind me, and I winced.

“Of course I wasn’t!” Luc said angrily; then he forcibly got himself under control. He looked away from me, and it made my soul hurt to see the profile I’d traced with my fingers, my lips. I felt beyond heartbroken and didn’t know how I would stand the pain.

“I’m sorry, Thais,” he said. “Everything happened so fast—I didn’t expect us all to take everything so . . . seriously.”

I stared at him.

“But we did—and I took you both very seriously, in my way,” he went on, his voice dark and strained. “Thais—my name
is
Luc. Luc-Andre Martin. I
do
live where I told you. I
have
been in New Orleans only a few months.” He lowered his voice, his dark blue eyes focused intently on mine. “Everything I told you about how I felt about you is true. Everything I said when we were together was absolutely sincere and from my heart.”

“What?”
Clio burst out, storming past me. “So you were being sincere with
her?
What was I?
Nothing?
A
diversion?
You fricking bastard!”

“No, Clio—of course I care about you. You’re beautiful. Fun and exciting. You make me forget—”

“Now you can forget about both of
us!
” I cried. “Get out of here!”

Luc looked first at Clio, then at me, and raised one hand as if to ask me for something. In his eyes I saw both regret and anger, and I hardened my heart against him.

“ Thais—”

If he didn’t get out of here this second, I was going to turn into a shrieking, frothing, out-of-control banshee. “You’re a lying, faithless bastard,” I said, speaking slowly and clearly to keep myself from breaking down. “And I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.” I turned on my heel and went back inside the house. Clio snapped something else at him, then she came in and crashed the door shut so hard that one of its stained glass panes cracked.

She and I were both wild-eyed, breathing hard, shaking.

“I put the guard spells back on the gate,” she muttered. “ Took ’em off for the party.”

Racey, Eugenie, Della, and Kris peeped out from the workroom. Racey took one look at us and immediately assumed a brisk, no-nonsense control.

“Into the kitchen,” she said, motioning with her hand. “Come on.”

I followed Clio into the kitchen and almost fell into a chair.

“I need a shot of something,” Clio said faintly. “For medicinal purposes.”

“No—no alcohol,” said Racey firmly. “Here. Racey’s private recipe. Guaranteed to help soothe frayed nerves.” She poured two cups of a steaming herbal tea and set them in front of us.

Mindlessly I took my cup and drank, not caring that it was too hot. I saw Clio pass her hand over her cup, as if to feel the steam, and then she drank without wincing.

Within two minutes I felt like someone was smoothing aloe on all the burning pain inside me, over my heart that felt wrapped in barbed wire, around my mind that felt like acid had been dumped on it. The tea was putting out fire after fire, and I found I could almost think clearly.

“I feel better,” I said, looking up at Racey. “ Thanks. I’ll have to get that recipe.”

She smiled at me. “You’ll be able to come up with one yourself soon.”

I put my head in my hands. She meant if I learned magick. Which reminded me of the awful vision Clio and I’d had, right before Luc had ripped our hearts out.

This was pretty much one of the top-three worst nights of my entire life.

“I think we’re going to go,” said Della. “Unless you need us to stay.”

Clio shook her head and drank more tea. “No,” she said, her voice thin. “Thanks, guys. And thanks for cleaning up and everything.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Eugenie said. Clio gave a wan smile and nodded.

“Want me to stay?” Racey asked after the other three had left.

Clio glanced up at me and bit her lip. “That’s okay,” she said softly. “I guess we can take it from here. But thank you.” She stood up and hugged Racey.

“Yeah, thanks for the tea and being here,” I added inadequately. Racey patted my shoulder, picked up her purse, and left.

And Clio and I were left alone.

I
f I looked as bad as Thais did, I was seriously going downhill. Her face was pinched and bloodless, and her shiny black hair lay limply on her shoulders.

“I think I’ll go too,” Thais said, starting to get up. “I just want to go to bed.”

“How are you going to get home?”

“Streetcar,” she said, putting her teacup in the sink.

“Not this late. I’ll drive you home.”

She looked like she wanted to refuse, but she was too sensible to. “I wish I’d never come to New Orleans!” she burst out.

That makes two of us.
My skin was crawling: Andre had actually meant what he’d said to Thais, and I had been just the good-time girl. He might even love her.
Her.
He hadn’t left until
she’d
come down and talked to him. Even out on the porch, it was
her
understanding he’d wanted, not mine. He’d kept talking to
her,
explaining to
her.
Oh yeah, I’d been beautiful and exciting and fun. Yay for me. But he’d
cared
about
her.
I felt like I was going to shatter into sharp, bitter shards, like colored glass.

I drank my tea, trying to think about anything else. Unbidden, the image of the crying newborn popped into my mind. Why had we seen that? Why had it all been so real? Because we were doing it together?

“Who do you think that baby was earlier?” I asked, and Thais blinked at the shift in gears.

“Uh, I don’t know,” she said. “I was thinking maybe our mom? Dad told me that Mom had this same birthmark.” She touched her cheekbone lightly. “He thought it was so strange that I had it too—birthmarks aren’t usually inherited.”