Page 19 of SIN Bone Deep

“Elenyx,” Fennel provided as she pressed a handkerchief to my split lip. “This is Elenyx.”

“I’m very sorry for the way that Bianca has behaved, Elenyx,” Grace inclined her head to me. “Now,” she turned to the rest of the family. “Let's just get into our cars before any more harm is done. Please, Chris,” she appealed to her cousin, who sent us daggers before encouraging his wife’s family away.

The last man to turn around was Kristine’s lover, his eyes meeting and holding mine. I felt the chill of that gaze along my spine as he placed his hand on the small of his wife’s back and led her away.

“Are you okay, Nyx?” Callista turned to me.

“Of course, she’s not okay,” Fennel exclaimed. “When will this stop, Callie? When will they realize that we are not their enemy?”

Callista sighed heavily and unlocked the car. “Never Fennel. Or at least, not within the lifetimes of Nyx and Nora’s great-granddaughters. Patriarchy is ingrained, and there is nothing that patriarchy hates as much as a strong woman who reminds him of the crimes of his past.”

“She wasn’t striking at you, Nyx,” Fennel said quietly as she helped me to her feet. “She was striking out at her helplessness. She needs to place the blame somewhere solid to stop the echo of the guilt-ridden thoughts in her head. She will be turning over and over that morning, in minute detail, and asking herself what she could have done differently. If she’d driven her daughter to school, then it would not have happened. But then, maybe if her daughter’s helmet or bike had been better. Or if her husband hadn’t been distracted with his plans and had helped and had driven her instead. If they weren’t so poor as to have to live up the hill… If… There are always so many ifs.”

She spoke from experience. I imagine that she had castigated herself the same way after her injuries. If only she had never gone out with him. If only she had seen the danger that he presented. If only things had worked out differently.

“The ifs are our curse, aren’t they?” I asked her, taking the handkerchief and pressing it against my lip. “We can do so much, foresee so much, but there’s always something that we could have done differently if only…”

“That is the truth,” she agreed cupping my cheek in the palm of her hand. “The tragedy of a Vossen woman is the same of every other woman. We know so much, but it’s what catches us by surprise that inevitably breaks us.”

EIGHT

Grapes grow upon the vine giving us both joy and wine

– The Wiccan Rede

The storm broke before we arrived home and raged for the entire afternoon into evening, turning the ocean into a fearsome fury against the sand, and keeping me indoors. At my window, as night fell, I lit a candle and thought of Ender. If he was, as I suspected, not of mortal kind, the weather would not prevent him from walking the gardens seeking me, and I wanted, so very much, to be found. As the lightning flashed, lighting the shadows between the tangled plants of the garden, I thought that perhaps I saw the shape of a man in a dark cloak, the hood pulled up around his face, but imagination was very good at making human-form of inhuman shapes.

Storm-bound within the house, I spent Saturday pouring over spell books, studying invocations, or practicing the craft in the kitchen under the supervision of the aunts. Nova closed herself into her bedroom and played music so loud that I was not entirely sure if it was the wind or the reverb that shook the glass in our windows.

On Sunday evening, after sharing several glasses of strawberry wine and feeling a little fuzzy as a result, Fennel persuaded me to let her do a tarot reading for me, mostly, I suspected, to while away the time.

The first card was the devil. We exchanged a look, and I leaned back in my seat with a laugh. “Well, this is going to be interesting,” I commented. “Who do the cards think I’m in an unhealthy relationship with?”

“That’s your interpretation of the card, Nyx,” she replied. “The Devil can mean sexual and creative energy, confronting your darkest fears and personal growth, and worldly desires. The question is: why do you believe that it implies an unhealthy relationship?” She lifted an eyebrow, and I felt my cheeks heat under her scrutiny.

“No reason,” I looked away, avoiding her too-knowing gaze.

“Mhm.” She turned the next card. The three of swords. Heartbreak, sorrow, and pain. I worried my bottom lip as she turned the third card. Two of cups. I frowned. The two of cups would indicate a third-party, interfering in the romance.

“I don’t understand,” I admitted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

The next card was a three of swords.

“A love triangle?” Fennel suggested. What had been a slightly playful way of breaking study and distracting us both had become serious, and we both leaned forward over the table, our wine glasses forgotten in our focus on the next card.

When the card was revealed to be the lovers, we both recoiled, and I snorted in disgust, reaching for my wine. “Bullshit,” I told her. “You’re influencing this.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” She was insulted.

“I don’t know,” I gestured out with a hand dismissively. “You have both been a little off recently, you must admit. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Off,” she repeated, both brows raised. “What precisely do you mean by that, Elenyx?”

“I mean…” I started as she turned the final card. The moon. I jabbed my finger at it. “I mean this. Hidden meanings and emotions. You are hiding things.”

“I’m sure that I have no idea what you mean,” Fennel gathered the cards back in. “Perhaps this was a mistake. You are decisively hostile this afternoon, Elenyx.”

“I’m not hostile,” I protested.

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