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"Allie, how nice to see you again. This is Raphael, my husband-to-be. Roxy, let her get her arm out of the coat before you take it."
Somehow-and I swear that someone who shall be nameless had a hand in this-as I was reaching to shake Raphael's hand, Roxy jerked my coat from my left arm, and the Esme'd bobble bounced onto the floor. Roxy started forward toward a coat stand. I shrieked.
"Oh, my G.o.d, stop! You'll crush Esme!"
A name has power, thus the ability to Release, bind, and enchant a spirit by means of the ent.i.ty's name. As I had seen in the British Library restaurant, speaking the name of a spirit bound to me had the effect of calling that spirit forward, bringing it to wherever I was. Hence the need, the hermit had explained, for sealing a spirit to a location if one did not want it to come running everytime its name was spoken.
True to form, the second Esme's name left my lips she was released from the bobble, just a scant nanosecond before Roxy trod upon it.
The appearance of a middle-aged ghost in a bath-robe, holding a three-legged cat, did much to stop conversation. In fact, it was a pretty fair bet to say that you could have heard an individual atom of oxygen hit the floor.
I closed my eyes for a second and wondered why I couldn't have a nice, normal life with nice, normal ghosts.
"Good afternoon, everyone. Allie, you didn't tell me we were going to pay calls. I'm all at sixes and sevens today. Is that scones I smell? I haven't had scones in years! I do hope you make the kind with dates in them, not sultanas. Sultanas give me the wind. Just let me freshen up a bit and I'll be ready for a nice little chat."
Three pairs of extremely surprised eyes turned to look at me. I did my utmost to rally a smile. "Are we early?"
Chapter Six.
"I know there's nothing she can eat, but I feel terribly rude not even offering her a cup of tea," Joy said a few minutes later, after we had survived the introductions. Raphael, on his way out to do some work with the security firm he owned, looked more than a bit startled, but all in all, everyone took Esme's presence pretty well.
Roxy was in seventh heaven, sitting next to Esme on the couch, grilling her as to what life after death meant. Esme had met her match in Roxy-for every morsel of helpful advice that was offered ("Pet.i.te women should never wear horizontal stripes; it makes you look like a munchkin"), Roxy parried with yet another pointed question about the afterlife.
"What was the first moment you knew you were dead? How come you look like you did shortly before you died, rather than at the moment of death? I mean, if you burned to death, shouldn't you be all smoldering, blackened flesh and gooky stuff? Did you see a light at the end of a tunnel? And what's the deal with angels-are they real, or is it all just a bunch of hooey?"
I turned away from Roxy and Esme and made an apologetic face at Joy. "I'm really sorry about this. I realize you thought you were just getting me when you invited me to tea. If Esme makes you uncomfortable, I'll just turn another bobble into a keeper and tuck her away."
Joy, sitting with her hands resting on her ample stomach, eyed my sweater. "You keep your ghosts in sweater bobbles?"
"Sometimes," I said cautiously. "But really only in cases of emergency. Not to change the subject, but could you tell me what this step business is that you and Roxy mentioned last night? I meant to ask Christian about it, but what with him making snide comments at me, and then there was Esme and the two of them ganged up on me... well, it just kind of got pushed aside."
Joy's mouth hung open for a minute before she snapped it shut. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'm sure it's going to make a fascinating tale. The steps, oh..." She looked over at Roxy, who was sweeping her hands through Esme's midsection, much to the latter's delight. "Well, the steps are part of the Joining. Do you know anything at all about Moravians?"
"Other than that they are not quite vampires, no."
Joy leaned toward me a little. "You know, you really should read Christian's books. Much of what he writes about is actual Dark One lore, although, of course, he presents it as fiction. I will be happy to lend you my copies."
I gnawed on my lower lip. "I'm not really much of one for romances," I said carefully.
She smiled, her eyes dancing with inner laughter. "Trust me, you'll like these. And anything you don't understand, you can ask Christian about. Now, the steps... we were talking about that. Let's see... well, each Dark One is born having one true love, his Beloved. That's Beloved with a capital B, by the way. Anyhoodles, a Dark One's Beloved is his soul mate, the woman who was born to redeem his soul and balance his life. We had thought that there was only one Beloved for each Dark One, but..."
She looked uncomfortable. I couldn't tell if the baby was dancing on her bladder, or if it was something she was about to say, but I suspected the latter.
"It's really not important in the least. I don't want you thinking that it is, because it isn't, not truly."
I blinked. "Okay."
"And I don't want you thinking that there's anything between Christian and me, because I love Raphael more than anything on this earth, and I always will. Christian was just a little confused about me for a short while, and took things a bit hard, but in the end it all worked out well, even though Raphael did get fired, and he does have a scar, but at least the tattoo is safe, so that's good."
I opened my mouth to say something, then thought better of it.
"But I did promise Christian, you see. I swore to him that I'd help him find his Beloved, and then Roxy had this crazy idea about writing a book to draw her out, and I knew that wouldn't work, but I thought if Christian did a book tour to a number of countries, that might stand a fair chance of working, and Roxy came over just for the book signing because she said Miranda-that's a Wiccan friend of ours-Miranda said the G.o.ddess told her that Rox was needed in London. And it worked, because here you are!"
Finally, something I could understand. "Wait a minute, if you're talking about my being Christian's main squeeze, I have to correct that misimpression. I talked to him about this last night, and he himself told me that I wasn't his Beloved. He said he would break the news to you." I took in her crestfallen expression and gentled my words. "I see that he didn't bother to do that."
"I haven't seen Christian since he saw us home after the book signing," Joy said, pinching worriedly at a ginger cookie. She frowned for a minute; then her face cleared. "No, he's wrong, that's all."
"Who's wrong?" Roxy asked as she scooted forward to snag a handful of cookies.
"Christian. He told Allie she wasn't his Beloved."
"Oh, is that all. Sure, he's wrong. He was wrong about you being his Beloved; makes sense he'd be wrong about her, too. Poor man is a bit stunted in the Beloved-recognition department," she told Esme in a confidential tone of voice.
"Really? And he seemed so nice."
"Wait a minute." I held up my hand, feeling like the conversation was getting beyond my control. "Can we back up a minute? Christian thought you were his Beloved? Is that what all that 'I don't want you to think it's important' business was about?"
Everyone started talking at the same time, Roxy to tell me that although Christian was a p.u.s.s.ycat and she loved him dearly (in a purely platonic way, since she had a husband she adored, he was still a man, and everyone knew men were idiots, Esme to inform me that girdles worked wonders where nothing else could; and Joy to add that Christian had been just a little confused, but that was all straightened out now.
I let them all talk, sitting back and closing my ears to the noise while I mulled it over.
Christian had thought Joy was his Beloved. She clearly was in love with the big man named Raphael, but just as clearly Christian was a very dear friend of hers. I suspected from the warmth that lit the edges of his eyes when he spoke of her that the feeling was returned.
The question was, did his feelings for her go beyond those of a close friend? Was he hiding a broken heart behind a facade of friends.h.i.+p? Or worse, was he on the rebound, willing to cling to any warm body to ease the pain of his unrequited love? I didn't know enough about the Dark Ones to know just how this whole Beloved thing worked, but I gathered that it was a pretty serious matter, and Christian thinking Joy was the woman meant to redeem his soul had to mean he had some pretty strong feelings for her.
That said, why did that thought bother me so much?
"Okay, enough, I get the idea," I said, trying to bring some order to the chaos around me. "Now maybe one of you can explain these steps. What exactly is a Joining? I don't think I've ever heard of that."
Joy looked worried, and absentmindedly ate six cookies. "The steps are steps to Joining. A Dark One Joins with his Beloved-that is, they have to complete the seven steps, and then they are Joined."
I had a horrible suspicion I knew what she was driving at. "You're talking about s.e.x, right?"
Joy choked on her cookie. Roxy reached over and pounded on her back a few times until Joy stopped sputtering and coughing.
"If you wouldn't be such a pig, you wouldn't have this problem. s.e.x is the fifth step, but the others don't have anything to do with it," Roxy said. "Well, the third step does, but that's just kissing, so I don't count that."
I rubbed a weary hand over my forehead. I felt more than a little like Alice in the company of people who spoke only in riddles. "What exactly are the steps? Maybe if I know what they are, I'll understand this Joining better."
"Oh, that's easy," Roxy answered, counting off her fingers. "First step: the Dark One marks his Beloved. I a.s.sume Christian's already done that with you, yes?"
I gnawed on my lip. "Marked how?"
"Have you had any visions recently?" Joy asked. "Any times when you felt as if your mind had merged with Christian's?"
I smiled a grim little smile. "No one gets into my mind without my permission. Guarding my mind from others was the first thing I learned."
"Really?" Joy looked at Roxy. Roxy looked back at Joy. Esme looked at her cat. Mr. Woogums licked his b.u.t.t. "Well, I don't know what to say in that case. With me, everything Christian felt and saw, I felt and saw. And... er... likewise."
I felt a stab of something that bore a remarkable resemblance to jealousy. I squelched the feeling immediately. I was not jealous of Joy. Christian did not mean anything to me. "I did have a dream about him. Dreams are often the only way to get to someone with a strongly guarded mind. We ward ourselves as best we can before we go to sleep, but there's a certain lack of control when you're sleeping." Which was one of the reasons I seldom slept at night. Nighttime was traditionally the domain of those creatures who sought control over Summoners' minds.
"A dream? An erotic dream, you mean?" Roxy asked.
I laughed. "Hardly. He was covered in blood and had a hundred cuts all over his body. I thought he was a tortured spirit when I first saw him."
"You saw him?" I nodded to Joy. "Oh, well, then, that definitely is a marking, wouldn't you say?"
"Definitely," Esme answered for Roxy, nodding her head vigorously. Her little sausage curls bounced around as she beamed a happy smile at all of us.
"The second step is protection from afar," Joy said.
"And we saw that well enough last night," Roxy added.
I made a noncommittal face. Two out of seven was statistically still a coincidence. I'd seen much stranger things.
"The third step's the good one-exchange of bodily fluids."
"Ew!"
"It sounds gross, but it's not," Roxy rea.s.sured me. "Really, it just means kissing. You know." She tipped her head toward Esme. "Enchfray issingkay."
"My third husband was very good with his tongue," Esme told her. "He could tie a cherry stem into a knot."
There just wasn't much any of us could say to that.
"The fourth step," Joy said as she rested a teacup on her belly, "is when the Dark One entrusts the heroine with his life by giving her the means to destroy him."
"Hey, wait a minute, I want to find out if Allie and Christian have been doing the tongue waltz."
"Roxy! That's none of your business!"
"Look, sister, I flew all the way over here just to help you help Christian, leaving my darling husband to fend for himself for seven whole nights. It is too my business. So..." She turned to me. "Have you guys locked lips or not?"
"I... I..."
"She's blus.h.i.+ng," Esme said to Roxy. "I would hazard a guess that is a yes. And after what I saw of Christian last night-such a nice boy, even if he is a Dark One-I can't blame her. If I were thirty years younger, I might try taking him away from her."
There's nothing so annoying as a ghost who exudes coyness.
"The fifth step," Joy said firmly, giving her friend a stern look, "is the second exchange."
"Bet you can't guess what that means." Roxy sn.i.g.g.e.red.
"Stop it, Rox; you're being obnoxious. You don't have to embarra.s.s Allie. The sixth step is where the Dark One seeks his Beloved's a.s.sistance to overcome his darker self, and the final step, the one that redeems his soul and ends his torment is the final exchange-a blood exchange-after which the Beloved offers herself as a sacrifice so that he might live."
"Don't worry; Christian won't actually let you sacrifice yourself. You just have to make the effort. That's what Joy did, anyway, and it worked."
I stifled the little voice inside me that said I'd heard just about enough of Joy and Christian's relations.h.i.+p for one day. "It all sounds rather... oh, I don't know, epic somehow."
"It is in a way, isn't it?" Joy agreed. "There is a strong element of selflessness and absolute love to the whole thing that makes it seem like one of those lengthy medieval romantic poems, but I can a.s.sure you that it is a very serious matter to Christian. He is, for lack of a better word, wounded, and can't be healed until his Beloved agrees to save him."
"Ah. Well, that's fascinating, but I have to say, all this drives home the point that Christian is absolutely right. I'm not the epic story type. I'm not Beloved material. I'm a Summoner, pure and simple, and any... er... feelings of a warmer nature-which I don't have-are purely coincidental."
"Uh-huh. No warm feelings, eh? Is that why you blushed so hard over the kissing question?"
"Roxy, stop teasing her." Joy looked at me with a puzzled frown. "Perhaps we're wrong. Perhaps you really aren't Christian's Beloved, although I could have sworn... Well, it doesn't matter. If you are, you'll find a way to work things out, and if you aren't, we'll simply keep looking for the woman who'll save him."
Something twinged deep within me. I ignored it just as I ignored all of the rest of the strange things my mind was trying to tell me. "Would you mind if I asked why you're so involved in finding this Beloved person? I mean, isn't Christian really the best person to do that?"
"Yes," came a familiar, deep, beautifully resonant voice from the door behind me. I didn't bother turning around to look at him; I was too busy telling my body it was not going to leap up out of the chair and throw itself into his arms.
"Christian," Joy cried in delight. She peered over her shoulder at the window. "Is it dark so soon?"
"Not quite; there are another twelve minutes until sunset," he answered, setting a black fedora, black silk scarf, and ankle-length black coat on a table before advancing into the room. "Good evening, ladies. Joy, you look glowing as ever. Roxy, I see the fine hand of your husband in that lovely gown. Please tell him again what exquisite fas.h.i.+on taste he has. Esme, what an unexpected delight. You are charm personified."
He turned to look at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. He took his time letting his gaze travel down from my hair-pulled back in a scrunchy-to my rose-trellis sweater with the yarn bobbles, and farther down to my jeans, which I suddenly realized had a big old mud splash on the ankle. I tried to cross the clean leg in front of it before he saw, but I could tell by the sweep of his eyebrow as it swooped up his forehead that he'd seen anyway, drat it all.
"Allegra, that is a very pretty, very feminine sweater. Dare I hope you wore it on my account?"
"No, you dare not. I wore it because it had bobbles that it turned out I needed today. You had nothing to do with it."
"Put in my place, and very handily, too," he said with a smile that melted every single one of my traitorous internal organs.
"Christian, I don't understand. How can you be out if the sun hasn't set?" Joy was back to looking worried again.
He glanced at me, then seated himself in the chair next to hers. "I awoke early. After I dined-"
"He keeps a whole ton of servants in his London house just so he can feed off them," Roxy leaned forward to whisper to me. She must have seen the horrified look on my face, because she quickly added, "Oh, he wipes their memories clean, so they don't remember a thing about it. They don't suffer at all."
"-I decided I would accept your kind invitation as Allegra and I have plans for the evening. I a.s.sure you I was well protected against the elements for those few seconds I was exposed to sunlight." His gaze dropped to my jeans. Unwittingly I brushed at my legs, then stopped when I realized what I was doing.
"If you keep c.o.c.king your eyebrow like that, one day it's going to freeze in that position," I snapped. "You needn't look at me as if I'm a reject from the ragpicking farm. I don't have any girl clothes with me, so if jeans and a bobble rose-trellis sweater don't meet your exacting standards, I'll be happy to go sit in St. Paul's Cathedral and see if I can't Summon Sir Christopher Wren."
"Really?" Roxy asked. "You can do that? Cool!"
"I was joking," I said.
"Oh, you poor thing, of course you don't have any nice dresses with you. I forgot that you're just visiting, and unlike some people I can name"-Joy thinned her lips at Roxy-"I bet you don't travel with a metric ton worth of luggage. I'd be happy to let you borrow one of my dresses, but I'm sure they're much too large for you. Roxy?"
Roxy eyed me. "I think she's too big for anything I have."