Текст книги "The Fiery Heart"

Автор книги: Richelle Mead

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It took me a moment to remember the roses, and I held them out with a forced smile. Inez took them warily and sniffed each of them before giving a small grunt of approval. “Come in.” We entered further into the foyer, and that’s when she noticed Adrian. “Well, well, look what you dragged up. You could’ve saved yourself the money on the flowers and just brought me him. Been a while since I entertained a handsome young Moroi.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve met a woman who appreciates roses as much as I do,” said Adrian, ever quick on his feet. “Not that my experience has always been great with them. I’ve got to say, though, I’ve never seen such excellent decorating taste. You go for pink too, huh? I told them that when they got the flowers, but would they listen to me? No. They insisted on burgundy.”

Inez narrowed her eyes as she gave Ms. Terwilliger a once‑over. “What are you playing at, bringing one of them here? Their kind almost never come to us for help.”

“This isn’t about him,” explained Ms. Terwilliger. “It’s Sydney. My apprentice.”

Inez pondered this as she put the roses in a vase (which had roses painted on it) and allowed us to sit in her mauve parlor. The scent of roses was cloying, and I counted at least three plug‑in air fresheners responsible for the oppressive atmosphere. Inez settled back into a velvet padded armchair that I almost thought was rose‑free until I saw more of them carved into the wood.

“So.” Inez scrutinized me as I gingerly sat down beside Ms. Terwilliger on the sofa. Adrian made himself comfortable on a thronelike chair. “An apprentice, huh? And here I thought you just spent your free time advocating chia seeds in natural‑foods forums.” The old woman’s eyes suddenly widened, and I realized she’d caught sight of my left cheek. She chuckled softly to herself. “This gets stranger by the minute. You’re braver than I thought, taking on one of them.”

“She’s very strong,” said Ms. Terwilliger almost defensively.

Inez tsked and picked up a teacup. It smelled like Earl Grey, and I hoped she’d offer us some. “Do you think I don’t know that? I could tell as soon as I opened the door. How’d you manage that? Aren’t you worried about consorting with the devil, girl? Or whatever it is you Alchemists believe?” She glanced over at Adrian. “But then, you must’ve overcome a few of your hang‑ups about the supernatural if you rode in the same car as Jaclyn’s pool boy.”

I’d known Inez was familiar with the vampiric world. It was why we were here, after all, to learn about her history of fighting Strigoi. I also knew from being with the coven that vampires were just business as usual to some witches. Nonetheless, it was a completely new and baffling experience to be with an outsider who was so at ease with Moroi.

“These hands don’t do manual labor,” Adrian told her.

“Be quiet, boy,” she snapped. “Before you become less endearing.”

I cleared my throat. “I don’t do any consorting with the devil, ma’am.” Just an insolent yet irritatingly attractive vampire. “Mostly I’ve been translating spells and learning to defend myself.”

“Her training has made her an excellent scholar,” insisted Ms. Terwilliger.

“Scholar, pah.” Inez made a dismissive wave of her hand. “Just looks like some flighty teenage girl to me, one who probably thinks she’s being a rebel by tinkering with magic. Doesn’t matter how strong she is if she can’t focus and get serious about the craft. Do you have a boyfriend, girl? Yes, of course you do. That just makes things worse. There’s no getting through to them when all they’ve got is the backseat of a car on their mind. We didn’t have those problems in my day. They’d send us off to our mentors and lock us away. No boys. No temptation. Lose your virginity, girl, and you lose half your magic. Something you might have thought about, Jaclyn.” She finally paused to catch her breath and drink more tea. I made a point of studying her teacup because I knew if I looked at Adrian, I was going to start laughing. “No, there’s no use bothering with kids these days, not with all their texting and reality TV and power drinks. She’s a snappy dresser, I’ll give you that, but that’s not enough to get me to waste my time with some young girl.”

“You don’t even know what I want,” I blurted out. “And I’m not that  young. I’ll be nineteen in about two weeks.”

Inez rolled her eyes. “Aquarius? Worse and worse.”

Ms. Terwilliger had regained some of her confidence and met Inez’s shrewd gaze with a level look. “She’s extremely disciplined and extremely advanced. She takes this very seriously and has already joined the Stelle.”

That, at least, came as a surprise, and Inez glanced at me with new consideration–though still not approval. “I suppose that’s something.”

“It’s just the warm‑up,” said Adrian.

I gave him a warning look, not wanting him to “help” my case. “Please, ma’am. I need your guidance. I heard you’ve had lots of encounters with Strigoi. That you’ve fought some. I want to know more about it.”

She didn’t look impressed in the least. “Hmphf. That’s all? I figured someone like you would know more than me.”

“Not the magical side,” I said. “How did you fight them?”

“The same way anyone does. Stakes, fire, or decapitation. Not that the Moroi give us many stakes. But I’ve lit up a few Strigoi in my day. Just takes a good fireball spell.”

That wasn’t a huge revelation. “Yeah . . . I know a lot about that spell.”

Inez gave Ms. Terwilliger a quizzical look. “Didn’t your house burn down recently? Good grief, you guys weren’t experimenting with fireballs indoors, were you?”

My teacher shifted uncomfortably. “No. You’ll have to get that story from Alicia DeGraw.” There was a slight catch in her voice. “Veronica’s apprentice.”

“The one who went rogue,” said Inez.

“Yes. Sydney defeated her and saved my life.”

Inez studied me in a way that said I might not be a complete waste of time, and I took advantage of it. “Please, ma’am. Please help me. You seem like someone who really appreciates knowledge and learning, and I’d be so grateful if you’d share just a little of your wisdom.”

“Why should I help?” she asked. I could tell she was intrigued, though. Flattery really could get you places. “You don’t have any superior knowledge to offer me.”

“Because I’m superior in other things. Help me, and I’ll . . . I’ll fix your car out front. I’ll change the tire.”

That threw her off. “You’re in a skirt.”

“I’m offering you what I can. Manual labor in exchange for wisdom.”

“I don’t believe you can do it,” she said after several long moments.

I crossed my arms. “It’s an eyesore.”

“You have fifteen minutes,” she snapped.

“I only need ten.”

Naturally, Adrian felt the need to “supervise” my work. “Are you going to get mad if I tell you how hot this is?” he asked, kneeling near me, though careful not to get his own clothes dirty.

I had no time for such niceties as I sized up the spare tire, which seemed to be in only slightly better shape than the flat. “I assume you mean the temperature.” I was starting to sweat, which wasn’t helping matters.

“You really think this car is important enough to her that she’d help? Something tells me that the last time she drove anything, it was a horse‑drawn carriage.”

I opened up a toolbox that had been in the back of Ms. Terwilliger’s car, pleased that it was well stocked and compatible. “It’s not really about the car. This is a test to prove I’m not some ‘flighty girl.’ I think she gets a kick out of seeing others jump through hoops. That’ll hopefully buy me credit.”

He fell silent and watched me work for another minute or so. “Was that true what she said? About virginity affecting magic?”

“For some spells,” I said. “For others, not so much. Some of the witches in the Stelle are married, and Ms. Terwilliger’s still pretty formidable.”

He didn’t say anything, and I could guess his thoughts. He was wondering if that would influence my own views about sex. In truth, it was only one of the many factors I was juggling when it came to going to the next level with him. His being a vampire was one of my smaller concerns. But other things–vague ones, like simply reaching a milestone, and specific ones, like knowing Jill was watching–certainly weighed on me. Magic played into it as well, but to a lesser extent.

One of the biggest influences was just an overwhelming desire to be cautious. Even engaging in our relationship was a reckless thing, and some part of me needed to compensate by holding back on other aspects. That wasn’t to say I didn’t want to have sex. I did . . . enough that I was carrying a secret that not even Adrian knew about: I’d actually started taking birth control pills. Was it because I had a definitive sexual plan? No, not yet. But I had that definitive cautious nature of mine that felt it was best to be prepared. I wasn’t sure how he’d react if he knew.

He helped me up when I finished in nine minutes and made sure I knew that he thought my dirty, sweaty state was adorable. We went back inside and found Inez and Ms. Terwilliger sitting comfortably in the air‑conditioned mauve living room. I hesitated to sit on the couch again and instead settled on the floor in front of Inez.

“Took you long enough,” she said. She looked me over and nodded. “Go ahead, then. Ask your questions.”

I knew better than to waste this chance. “I heard that you were attacked by Strigoi, ma’am–that they tried to drink from you but couldn’t. How? What happened?”

“Oh, there was no ‘try’ about it,” Inez said. She touched the side of her throat. “Right there that monster bit me–but you’re right. He didn’t get very much before the taste got to him. When he realized he couldn’t eat me, he got enraged and tried to snap my neck–but then I got a fireball out on him.” There was a gleam in her eye as she spoke, as though she were seeing the battle play out in front of her. “Odd things, vampire bites. In some ways, they’re exquisite. Exquisite, but lethal.”

“Yes, I know,” I told her, once more surprising her. “A Strigoi tried to drink from me too but couldn’t.”

Inez nodded. “It’s our magic. It leaves a residue on the blood when you use it. Hasn’t Jaclyn taught you that?”

“Er, yes . . .” I began. “But how would that matter to a Strigoi?”

“Magic is life. Strigoi have none, so when they’re struck with it–like with a Moroi charmed stake–it goes against their essence. A stake through the heart kills them. A witch’s blood is simply unpleasant.”

“But I hadn’t–” I stopped, realizing that even though I hadn’t been working great spells before that Strigoi attack, I’d begun the preparation of some at Ms. Terwilliger’s behest. They’d required low‑level, unconscious magic–apparently enough to leave a mark that had saved my life. Accepting this, I moved on. “But if magic blood can harm them, how come they can drink from the Moroi? Seems like Moroi would be even more potent because their magic is already within them, not like us.”

Inez seemed pleased by my questions. “Exactly because the magic is intrinsic. It’s woven into the blood and doesn’t have the same shock to a Strigoi system. Our magic . . .” She groped for the words. “It coats our blood because we pull it from the outside world into us. A similar thing occurs with a charmed stake. Magic is forced into it, becoming a more tangible weapon against the undead.”

I could just barely follow along. “A lot of nuances here, dealing with internal and external magic.”

“To say the least.” Inez almost gave me a genuine smile. “And it gets more complicated when you compare Moroi and human magic. Sometimes they behave similarly, sometimes completely differently. And of course, there’s the whole other issue of them contradicting each other.”

“Contradicting each other?” Something in those words pricked my inner alarms.

Inez put her hands into fists and slammed them together. “External, internal. Two sides of the magical coin. Sometimes they clash. Your tattoo there. The Alchemists get vampire blood to infuse it with compulsion, right?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes. To stop us from discussing supernatural matters with outsiders.” And to stop us from doing other things.

“Well, not for you. I guarantee your tattoo stopped working when you first dabbled in magic.”

The world came to a halt as the full impact of her words hit me. “No . . . that’s not possible. I mean, I guess it is, but I swear, there wasn’t any difference in me. Not then.” Things had certainly progressed afterward.

Inez’s gaze pinned me to the floor. “Did you ever try to do anything? Try to talk about vampires to ordinary people?”

“No . . .”

“Then how do you know?”

“I don’t, but I figured the tattoo’s magic was still going strong until–”

“Until what?” she asked. Even Ms. Terwilliger was looking at me now.

Last month, I’d run into a former Alchemist named Marcus Finch who’d rebelled and run away from them. Like me, he believed the Alchemists were too harsh on vampires, but he even went as far as to say there were some Alchemist factions actually working with vampire hunters. Marcus claimed to have discovered a way to undo the magic in our tattoos, freeing us of the compulsion magic that enforced Alchemist loyalty and made us keep supernatural affairs secret. I’d undergone the first part of the two‑step process to negate the tattoo: receiving injections of new ink that contained “broken” vampire elemental magic. That allegedly had freed me of the initial compulsion. The second step was to get the golden lily tattooed over with a sort of indigo ink Marcus had to acquire in Mexico. He said without that step, the Alchemists could just eventually reinstate the compulsion. I’d declined Marcus’s offer to go to Mexico, however, saying I’d take my chances without the indigo seal. I couldn’t bring myself to leave Adrian, Jill, and the others, seeing as there’d be no returning to my life in Palm Springs after open rebellion.

I chose my next words very carefully as I touched my cheek. “This tattoo is infused with elements made by vampire magic. If the two magics conflict, what would happen if elements derived from human magic were also put into this tattoo? Which magic would dominate?”

That clearly wasn’t the question either of them had expected. Inez frowned. “In you? The human magic, for sure. Like speaks to like, at least in this case. Your own humanness would strengthen what was there.”

“So . . . whatever charms or spells were worked into the ink with vampire magic would be undone by new ink powered with human magic.”

“Yes.”

The world was moving again, but I was barely aware of it. I was on the edge of something so, so big. I could tell. I just needed to grasp it. My fingertips could practically feel it.

“To hold Moroi magic in the body, you need a physical component,” I began. “In this case, ink made from their blood. To hold human magic in the body, you’d need a physical ink too . . . would that require human blood?”

“No,” said Inez swiftly. Her wrinkled brow frowned. “Blood is a good medium for a charm made of theirs because their magic is so tied to their bodies. Since we have to take our magic from the world around us, you’d be better off stabilizing it with some sort of physical compound. Something from nature.”

“Like what?”

She looked over at Ms. Terwilliger in what I suspected was a rare show of deference. “It’s hard to say. Something plant derived?”

Ms. Terwilliger pursed her lips as she mulled it over. “I’d say rock or mineral based.”

My heart raced. “A blue one?”

“I don’t think that the color matters so much in this case,” she said. “Certain substances hold certain kinds of magic better than others. Honestly? You’d have to get into the nitty‑gritty of geology. Look at crystalline structure, and see what types would form the best charm with what you’re wanting to do. It’s dull and dreary work. You’d probably love it.”

“Where would I find this out?” I exclaimed.

“There are books and books on it,” said Inez, in a voice that suggested I should’ve already known that. She took a deep breath, and for the first time in our meeting, she looked uncertain. Finally, resolve filled her face. “If you can be trusted not to do something stupid with them, I mightlend you some of my books.”

I clasped my hands together. “That would be . . . wow. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Stop babbling,” she snapped. “I said ‘might.’ I haven’t given them to you yet. These are quality books, passed down through my family. I’m not some upstart witch. My magical lineage goes back generations.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

She hesitated a few moments more. “If you can get them, you can borrow them. They’re in the attic.” She jerked her head toward a ceiling trapdoor on the far side of the room.

I immediately stood up, and Adrian started to join me.

“Not you, pretty boy,” she warned. “I want her to do this on her own. They’re in a box labeled ‘Charm Mechanics.’”

He gave me a sympathetic look, but I shook my head. “No problem.” I’d at least only worn half‑heeled shoes. Surely I could maneuver in an attic.

And I did . . . but not easily. The place was filled with dust and insulation, and the “Charm Mechanics” box was underneath five other heavy boxes. When I finally hauled my treasure down the attic ladder a half hour later, Adrian’s and Ms. Terwilliger’s amused expressions told me exactly how I must look. Inez nodded in approval.

“I think I like you,” she said thoughtfully. “You should visit again. You’re interesting.”

Later, when we were on the highway to Palm Springs, Ms. Terwilliger was full of mirth and incredulity. “Do you realize what you accomplished here? You not only got her to lend your books–which she never  gives out, by the way–you also got the closest to a personal invitation I’ve ever heard her give.” She shook her head and laughed. “You never cease to amaze me, Sydney. Do you want to store the books at my house?” That was where most of my growing collection of magical supplies were. They couldn’t be trusted to my dorm room anymore, not with Zoe around.

“I’ll keep them at Adrian’s,” I said automatically. She didn’t comment, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Ms. Terwilliger asked few questions about my personal life, romantic or Alchemist, but she was neither stupid nor oblivious. Maybe witches took vampires in stride, but I wondered if she suspected–and judged–the full extent of my relationship with Adrian.

Adrian leaned forward from the backseat. “That was a lot of work you did for some books. I assume you have some genius plan?”

I dragged my attention from my disheveled skirt and allowed myself to rekindle the excitement I’d felt earlier when Inez’s words had set off a lightbulb in my head. “I’m not sure if it’s genius or not,” I said. “But I think . . . well, I think I can replicate Marcus’s ink.”

CHAPTER 5

ADRIAN

SYDNEY SPENT A LOT OF TIME ON MY BED THESE DAYS. Unfortunately, it wasn’t with me.

I didn’t entirely follow how all that back‑and‑forthing with Inez had given Sydney the idea to make anti‑Alchemist ink, but I’d never claimed I could keep up with her mind. Once she took up the quest, make‑out hour had become research hour. She couldn’t work on it around Zoe, and although Jackie pretty much let Sydney do whatever she wanted, their time was limited too. And so, our romantic interludes were reallocated.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the old system, but I wanted her to pursue the ink. As much as I’d disliked Marcus Finch, I had supported his goals to thwart the Alchemists’ influence and attempts at mind control. Sydney had chosen not to go with him to finish the process because she wasn’t ready to embrace his drifter way of life; plus she believed she could accomplish more by staying connected to the Alchemists. Those were noble reasons, but I knew full well that another one–perhaps the greatest–was that she hadn’t wanted to leave me.

And who was I kidding? I didn’t want her to leave me either. At the same time, there’d always been a pang of guilt that I was responsible for leaving her vulnerable to being re‑inked. I also knew every stolen moment we had together put her at a terrible risk to face the Alchemists’ wrath. Even though Inez had claimed that Sydney was already immune to future tattooing because of her magic use, both of us wanted that golden lily sealed, just in case the worst happened. But it wasn’t just about herself. She knew that if she could discover an easily reproducible ink capable of negating the Alchemist tattoos, she’d hold a lot of power in her hands.

These research afternoons weren’t so bad. I dragged my supplies into the bedroom and worked on that goddamned self‑portrait while she sat cross‑legged on my bed, surrounded by books and her laptop. She was so engrossed that she didn’t notice how often I got distracted and watched her. Maybe it was crazy, but there was something incredibly sexy to me about seeing that thoughtful expression juxtaposed with her casual posture as she shifted her legs and leaned forward to read some arcane text. Moroi shied from sunlight, but as I watched the way it illuminated her, I knew without a doubt that humans had been made for the sun.

“It’s boleite,” she said abruptly one day.

I turned from my canvas, which so far had one green line on it. “Like an Indian musical?”

“Boleite, not Bollywood.” She tapped her laptop screen. “It’s this deep blue mineral that has large deposits in Mexico. I’ve been reading all about the mechanics of charm making in Inez’s books, and there’s almost a scientific aspect to it. The composition of different minerals and plants in nature affect the kind of elemental spell components they can hold for charms. Boleite’s cubic crystals and isometric system would make it an excellent medium to suspend the four elements in a way that could be held in the skin and negate any added Moroi magic. Its specific gravity and perfect cleavage go a long way too.”

The only part of that I understood was “perfect cleavage,” but I had a feeling we weren’t thinking of the same thing. “So, uh, what’s the summary?”

She leaned back, eyes enraptured. “It’s not the mineral alone. Marcus thinks he goes to Mexico to get some material that fights the gold ink in and of itself. But it’s more than that. I’ll bet you anything his tattooist is a magic user who charms the boleite before mixing it into the ink. The rebel Alchemists are using human magic and don’t even realize it.”

That was a little more on my level. I set down my paintbrush and picked up a nearby glass of water. “So can you do the same thing? Charm that mineral and make ink out of it to seal your tattoo?”

“I’m not sure. I’d need help from Ms. Terwilliger to figure out that kind of spell. There’s no recorded one that I can use, and we’d have to create our own. I’ve never done anything like that.” She frowned. “Even bigger than that is getting enough boleite to work with. Pretty sure it’s not something lying around in Palm Springs. I could probably order some off the Web . . . or maybe find a more common substitute. Something else in the halide family might have similar properties.”

“And you’d be doubly protected.” That was the most important part here to me, not all the geological jargon.

“If I can do it, yeah. And if Inez’s right that I’m already protected.” Inspiration lit her features. “ And  I could save Marcus a lot of trouble. He loses time on his Mexico trips. If I could replicate the ink, he’d have a domestic supply and could help more people. Let’s just hope he surfaces someday so that I can actually share this with him.”

I shrugged. “Why wait? We’ll find him in a dream. Not that I really enjoy spending nights with him, but it’ll be passable if you’re there.”

Her features instantly hardened. “No. No unnecessary dreams.”

“It’s necessary. You just said what a huge breakthrough this could be, and no matter how much I hate his hair, Robin Hood Finch is your contact in the underground. You need to run this by him.”

“And I will,” she said obstinately. “The next time I see him. He always comes back. You don’t need to waste spirit on this.”

“It’s not a waste. A dream is cake, Sage.”

“And it’s exactly what I was saying before. You can’t help yourself from doing this kind of stuff–and it’s why I love you. But it’s a risk.”

“Yeah? Some people–not me, of course–might argue that you taking on this whole ink‑making mission is an incredible risk. You think insubordination pisses the Alchemists off? What if they found out it was being fueled by magic? And that’s not even considering what they’d do if they found out about me.” I waved the water glass at her for emphasis. “You’re risking a lot, my love. If the Alchemists found out about even one of these things . . .”

“Then what?” she asked warily. “You think I should stop?”

“No, of course not,” I said with more confidence than I felt. Part of me wished there was a way she’d never be in any danger, but that wasn’t reality. At least not our reality. “Because I know you can’t. It’s what you do. And spirit dreams? Those are what I do.” I nodded to her laptop and books. “I can’t do all that sleuthing and magical spell work, but let me do something little like this. Let me feel like I’m contributing something to us.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh, Adrian. You contribute plenty. You . . . you have no idea what you do. You’re the greatest joy in my life. The greatest joy I’ve ever had.”

“Then it’s settled,” I said. “We’ll do a dream conference call.”

That love and rapture faltered. “Wait. How is it settled? How did we go from me declaring my love for you to me being okay with a dream?”

“It’s Adrian Ivashkov logic. Don’t try to understand it. Just roll with it.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

I nodded solemnly. “That’s just because you aren’t used to living the kind of spontaneous and unpredictable life I do. The unexpected is par for the course with me. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

A sly look appeared in her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. I bet I could totally tell you something you never saw coming.”

“You’re welcome to try.”

“If I surprise you, will you not do the dream?”

“Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

She hesitated a few seconds, and although there was still a mischievous glint in her eyes, I detected a little nervousness too. “Well . . . I’m on birth control.”

I was drinking the water again and choked on it. It took several moments of coughing before I could gasp out, “ What?”

She shrugged, unbelievably casual, as though the suggestion of having sex wasn’t a big deal. And yeah, there was no question about it. I was surprised. Very surprised. I should’ve known better than to doubt her abilities. “It takes a while for it to start working, so I figured I should be prepared, just in case.”

“Just in case,” I repeated, still dumbfounded.

Whatever nervousness she’d had was turning to delight at my discomfort. “Come on, are you saying you don’t think about it?”

“Oh, believe me, I think about it all the time. I just never knew you did. I mean, I figured when it came to sex, the Alchemists had all these principles about purity and marriage and sin . . . and stuff.”

“Most do,” she agreed. “Me? My principles are about love and doing it because there’s meaning and commitment. A piece of paper doesn’t always signal that. If there’s any sin involved, it’s doing it in a . . . I don’t know. Cheap way. With people you don’t care about. When it’s meaningless.”

I couldn’t muster a comment on that because the majority of sex in my life had pretty much been the cheap kind. I couldn’t remember the names of half the girls I’d been with. Sydney was fully aware of this, but she made no condemnation and shifted to a topic that was more expected of her personality.

“And, of course, doing it responsibly is huge too. There are a million pills on the market, so I had to compile all the data.” Then, incredibly, she pulled out a chart from her messenger bag entitled Oral‑Contraceptive Comparison.  It was hand drawn, but you’d never guess it from the perfect lines and neat writing. There was lots of color coding, as well as columns filled with unintelligible terms like estradiol  and androgenicity.

I stared, slack jawed, even though this was completely in line with the Sydney I knew and loved. “You’ve been working on this?”

“I actually made it a while ago. Didn’t take that long.” She regarded it with a sigh. “There are lots of side effects for all of them. I mean, plenty of people have no problems at all, but there are things that sometimes happen that you have to take into consideration. Tons of these are linked to weight gain.”

I studied her very carefully, realizing what a big concession that was. No matter her new healthy habits, I knew her figure was a constant source of worry, which was ridiculous considering how great she looked. “I’m surprised you’d take the chance. There are plenty of other safe sex options, you know. Ones that don’t involve pills.”

“I know.” She set the chart down. “But we don’t have to worry about disease, and this is one of the most effective methods–and it lets me control it. My doctor gave me the one with the lowest incidence of weight gain, so we’ll see.”

I stood up and sat beside her on the bed. “Promise me if you notice anything happening, you just stop taking it. I don’t want you trying to compensate with some crazy diet.”

She met my eyes. “You think I’d do that?”

“I’d rather not risk it and find out.”

“And risk not having sex?”

“I’m not having sex right now and am doing just fine,” I said nobly. “Although . . . uh, just out of academic curiosity, at what point are you thinking about . . .”

Sydney laughed and brushed a kiss against my lips. “I don’t know. Whenever I’m ready.” Abruptly, she sobered. “And there’s Jill . . .”

“Ah,” I said, because it was all I could say.

Jill. Jill, who could see inside my world and the things I did–including the things I did with Sydney. I knew it bothered Sydney–and I couldn’t blame her. Having a reluctant witness to our most intimate activities wasn’t something I liked either, especially when that witness was sweet and innocent Jill. Not that she was probably that sweet and innocent after living in my head. Jill, more than anything, was what I suspected had slowed down my physical relationship with Sydney. There were some things she could grudgingly accept Jill knowing about. There were others she couldn’t.