My Soul to Take (39 page)

The lavish, well-staffed palace was surprisingly dark and still at night, as if it had stood empty and abandoned for years. Jessica couldn’t find the white door she’d noticed behind a partition during the walk to dinner, when she had already been looking for a way out.

The flame dimmed, collapsing toward the wick. She was moving too fast. “No, no, no …” Jessica whispered, standing still, and her flame breathed again.

A large space had opened above her, Jessica realized. Banners gleamed in gold in the dark, hung from the rafters where a hidden bird cooed softly, the only sound except that of her heartbeat. She realized she was in the main foyer and public cathedral of Michel’s palace—she would never call his home a church. Empty pews sat
next to her, brooding in dark wood. If she kept walking straight, she would end up at the palace’s massive double doors.

But the doors won’t open
, she told herself.
You’re a fool if you think they will
.

The surreal moment swamped Jessica. It was too dreamlike; the pews, the banners, the palace itself. She yanked her mirror out of her back pocket, flipped it open. The mirror gleamed an empty space at her, and Jessica gasped.

Where was her face?
Was
it a dream?

Then she blinked, and she saw her eyelids’ movement in the dim flicker. No dream, only dark. Jessica wanted to sit on the closest pew, but where would her prayers go here?

Mom and Dad, I’ve offered to marry him Thursday morning
, Fana had told them with her hands folded in front of her, businesslike. She’d said it as if marrying Michel Gallo was right and necessary, as if she expected congratulations.
Once we’re fused, I’ll sway him against the Cleansing
, Fana had said, sounding like every doomed woman who had married a man to change him.
My path won’t take me around Michel—I have to go through him
.

This was not her child.

This was not the girl who had sobbed in her arms over Michel’s lie named Charlie, finding solace in a mother who had fallen in love with a fiction, too. This wasn’t the girl who had vowed she would not lay eyes on Michel for a decade, if then. Fana hadn’t been herself in so long, she might not know her own face in a mirror.

But Jessica did, so far. She was still here. She rushed ahead, grabbing the large brass handle, venturing a prayer. “Please please please …”

The door clicked and fell open, an inch’s width of moonlight. Jessica smelled gardenias

Dear God, he was going to let her leave!

Regrets came. Why couldn’t she have found a way to bring Fana? Or Phoenix, who never left Fana’s side? Or Dawit? Leaving alone filled Jessica with new wretchedness, but she slipped out of the palace.

Moonlight painted the empty courtyard gray. Even without
man-made light, it was so bright outside that it looked like dawn. No chorus of frogs, crickets, and cicadas; everything holding its breath. The woods beyond the courtyard were still.

Jessica raced down the wide steps.

In the moonlight, Jessica saw a ghostly animal in the center of the pebbled driveway, thirty feet from where she stood frozen. It sat Sphinx-like across the stones, staring into the woods. Jessica’s hand was water suddenly, and she dropped her candle.

The tiger from her dream!

Her heartbeat rioted. She tried to check her mirror again, but her hand couldn’t fish its way inside the back pocket of her jeans, fumbling and patting. The creature didn’t move.

Wait—

Jessica stared long enough to realize that the tiger was only Michel’s dog, Caesar. Was the dog sleeping in that strange pose? Caesar was a big dog, but he was no tiger. He might not have seen her yet. Or smelled her.

Jessica veered away from the front path, walking gingerly toward the long, vine-draped carport on the side of the palace near the kitchen entrance, where the three majestic Rolls-Royces were parked shining in the moonlight. She had thought about those cars after Dawit left their room to meet with Teka, realizing she had a plan.

Jessica pulled the door handle of the car closest to her—it was unlocked!—and met the antiseptic scent of overcleaned leather when she opened the door. An odd blue light from the dashboard made her check the rearview mirror for her wide-eyed face. Still here. No dream.

Jessica bent over the steering column. She nearly swooned when she saw the gleam of a single key on a golden key ring dangling for her, waiting. Jessica reached over to touch the key, to make sure it was real. It was.

Caesar had better get the hell out of her way.

Jessica saw herself climbing into the car, slamming the door shut, turning the key. But a sudden riffling in dry leaves above the carport made her realize she was still standing in the open doorway. A shift in the breeze whipped her head around to look back at the palace.

Michel was standing just beyond the awning. Five steps from her.

The moon brightened above him as clouds drifted free. He looked like a fresh-faced boy, nineteen at most. His face seemed too smooth to grow hair, obscene in clean handsomeness. He was barefoot, fresh from bed. His silken crimson pajamas shone on his legs. He had a woven white poncho slung over his pajamas, wearing it open like a cape.

Jessica’s hand closed around the car key, and she pulled it free, hoarding it in her palm. She wouldn’t give up the key. As long as she was hanging on to the key, she knew she was herself. Jessica propped the door between herself and Michel.

He might still let her go.

Michel crackled in front of her as if his poncho were static-filled. Jessica hadn’t experienced anything like the way the hairs on her arms pulled toward Michel. Poor Fana! Something like
this
was pulling Fana to him. Worse than this.

“You’re up late, signora,” Michel said. He sounded concerned.

Words tumbled out of Jessica’s mouth so quickly that she wondered if they were hers. “I was doing an experiment to see if I could get up and walk out of here,” she said. Having Michel so close made her tongue heavy, hard to move. “I see I have my answer.”

“I don’t lock my doors,” Michel said. “Or my cars, as you see. No one steals from me.”

Jessica heard Caesar rise and shake himself in the driveway, rows of thick fur snapping.
He’s going to kill me now
. What was the point of trying to hide thoughts from someone she couldn’t hide from?

“Where will you go?” he said, still playing the worried host. She heard his soft Italian accent in the singsong of his voice. “The roads are dark.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’ll know when I get there.”

He took a step toward her, and Jessica recoiled although she didn’t try to run. She still had the car door. She could hit him with it if she had to. She could try to. Her breathing was accelerating. She could feel it, and he must have, too. She turned the key over in her palm, comforted by its slickness and warmth.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, signora,” he said. “You’re Fana’s mother.”

As if that explained everything.

“I’m not afraid for me,” Jessica said. She hated the sound of tears in her voice; she wanted to sound like Judgment Day. “Do you love her, Michel?”

Michel was silent. Maybe he didn’t always lie.

“If you love Fana, or even think you do, let her go,” Jessica said.

“You’ve tried,” Michel said. “You know she won’t leave.”

“
Make
her go, Michel,” Jessica said. She almost choked on his name.

In a long silence, Michel seemed to consider it, or Jessica’s frantic hope said he was. Caesar trotted up to Michel, his tail wagging weakly, and sat beside him. Waiting.

“I cannot,” Michel said in a long sigh. “Only Fana controls Fana. I think you may have learned this once or twice.”

“For how long?” Jessica challenged him.

Michel didn’t answer. The woods and courtyard slept, silent.

Jessica’s rage surged. “How
dare
you!” she said. “How dare you stand there and say Fana is in control, you pompous hypocrite. She wants to
heal
the sick. She won’t do the horrible things you want from her, and
she never will
. Then who’s in control?”

Jessica was close enough to see his pleasant expression peel away as his jaw flexed. Michel stayed silent so long that Jessica was sure she had severed their communication. Her heart’s drumming started again. She eased herself toward the leather driver’s seat, ready to slide in. The key was hot in her hand.

Michel walked in front of the car’s grille, leaning. He planted his palms on the hood.

“I understand your anger. Believe me, I do,” Michel said finally. “Neither of us wants to find ourselves here.”

“Yes, you’re so helpless, aren’t you? You poor, sweet thing.” Her coo had thorns.

Steel crept into Michel’s voice. “I’m far from helpless, signora. You were not helpless when your husband told you he was a liar, he wasn’t quite human. He said you and your little girl were in
danger because of him, no? You wish you had gone, but you chose to stay.”

When Jessica heard the car door slam, she was shocked to find herself still standing in the carport. Had she slammed the door? She had the key in her palm. She was so senseless with anger, her sight blurred. Michel was roaming in her mind and memories. Of course he was!

But she had weathered taunting from Fana’s demons before. Michel could tell her nothing about her mistakes that she didn’t already know.

“I see,” Jessica said. She stepped toward Michel, an arm’s reach from him, ignoring the way he made her skin vibrate. “You like to hear begging, don’t you, Michel? You won’t be happy until you see me on my knees, will you … Most High? Is that what you want?”

“Often, I like begging very much,” Michel said, with unashamed candor. “But not you.”

“Let’s try it anyway. You might enjoy it,” Jessica said in a seductive whisper. She was ready to kneel, to pour her hatred into wailing tears, but Michel held her arm to keep her standing. His slender, gentle fingers on her bare arm gave a warm shock. She yanked away.

“No,”
Michel said forcefully. “You will not beg. My men are watching. So are yours.”

Appearances mattered to him. Jessica looked around, trying to find onlookers. The courtyard was empty. She couldn’t see any lights on in the palace, but a window on the third floor was conspicuously open, a white curtain floating on the breeze.

“My, my, my,” Jessica said. “I never would’ve guessed you’re so shy. Am I embarrassing you?”

“You would embarrass yourself,” he said. “Fasilidas followed you. Do not make me harm him. Fana would like him to stay with her.”

“Oh, I see your little game now. We all get a comfortable room, nice meals, every courtesy. That’s how you’ll justify violating her.”

She had chosen the right word. Now that she was closer to Michel’s eyes, she saw them wither. He pursed his pink lips tightly.

“Yes, Michel,” Jessica said. “Call it what it is. That’s what I always tell Fana.”

Jessica heard wind gather in the treetops, rolling around them. An unnatural wind.

“She’s free to go. I have not touched her,” Michel said. “You are also free to go.”

“If I’m free, why are you here?” she said.

“I’m here to ask you to stay.”

“What a surprise.”

Michel’s poncho flapped as he knelt to the ground in a sudden motion. She instinctively moved away from him, expecting him to become the tiger, but he was only bent on one knee. He bowed his head to her.

“I am the one who came to beg
you
,” he said, his words falling in a breathless flurry, as if in prayer. “On Thursday, I hope you will become a kind of mother to me, but I understand if it asks too much. My mistakes will take time to mend. But Fana wants you here …”

“Don’t tell me what Fana wants.”

Michel didn’t raise his head. “Signora, she chose each one of you, each voice. She loves all of the others, but she needs you here too. She needs your voice close to her … even if you tell her she should try to destroy me.”

Adrenaline swept through Jessica’s pores as Michel looked up at her suddenly, his eyes revealing how much he knew. “
Si
, you want me dead. Of course you do! It’s all you’re praying for. You think I’m the devil. Any mother would! Tell Fana all of your thoughts. Don’t hide them. She won’t always do as you ask, but your voice will stay with her. She must have all of her voices. If she doesn’t, I can’t know …”

“You?” Jessica said. She was angry at herself for feeling moved by Michel’s plea, straining to make out his whispered words. Of course it was about him!

“I must be sure she is choosing me,” he said. “That I haven’t moved her. Her choice is very important to me. It’s all
I’ve
prayed for. We both want the same thing for her, signora.”

If she’d had the strength, Jessica would have laughed until she cried.

He did think he loved her. God help them all.

Michel raised himself to his feet. A light had gone on behind the third-floor curtain, someone making his presence known. Michel glanced up at the palace. Flurried footsteps from the darkness sounded like armed guards scurrying into position on the palace’s rooftop.

“Now my father is worried,” he said. “He’s never seen me kneel to anyone, so imagine the sight. He forgets I don’t need a guardian.”

“Everyone needs a guardian,” Jessica said. “Especially you.”

The double doors to the palace opened. Dawit, Berhanu, and Fasilidas appeared with flashlights. “Jessica?” Dawit called, anxious. His gun might be in his hand. “Are you all right?”

“We’re fine!” Jessica called back. “Michel and I are having a chat.”

Their voices ricocheted through the courtyard.

Dawit and the others stopped short at the top of the stairs, watching. Fasilidas and Berhanu were close enough to probe her. Why had they stopped?

“Let’s walk to them,” Michel said, extending a genteel elbow to her. “Please stay.”

Jessica shook her head, her jaw trembling with shame at how much she wanted to give up her escape plan and go to sleep. How much she missed her Dreamsticks.

“I may be the only person who ever says no to you, Michel,” Jessica said.