Page 44 of Rainshadow

He didn’t say it back, but he didn’t need to. She knew that he did, and one day they would be as connected, more connected, than he ever had been with Sylvia.

21

It was the next day that Sylvia, looking fine as she readied and mounted her new horse, rode in four neat circles around the arena before tumbling off, collapsing onto the ground with a horrible-sounding thud.

Flora, whose heart leaped, jogged over from where she had been watching and rolled Sylvia onto her back. Sylvia took in a deep, gasping breath. She was still alive.

“What happened?” Flora asked as Sylvia’s unfocused eyes swam in and out of consciousness.

“He fed on me last night,” she said, her voice as rough as the rocks below Rainshadow. “After he was done with you. He needed more. I can’t take it much longer, Flora.”

Flora gazed down at her. “You’re a liar.”

Sylvia’s eyes fluttered shut again and she laughed a little. “Alright, I’m a liar. It’s not too late for you, though. Take the money, take the jewelry. He’ll do to you what he’s done to me.”

Flora helped Sylvia up, though she loathed having to. “He wouldn’t. He loves me.”

Sylvia laughed again and, trying to walk, stumbled.

“Help me,” she said. “Or kill me. You want to, don’t you? A little bit? Look at what he’s turned you into.”

Flora winced. “No,” she said. “I don’t want to kill you. I just want you to leave.”

“I can’t,” Sylvia cried. “And if you ever understand what I mean it will be too late for you.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

Sylvia, then, gave her a withering look. An “Oh, honey, come on” type of look. “Of course I did,” she said. “It’s the only good thing about being with him. He fucks me, Flora. Even when I’m half dead, he fucks me. He’s still a man.”

Flora felt such a rush of anger and hatred that she almost threw up. She almost attacked the other woman. She almost did a lot of things. There was a feeling of ice-cold violence running through her, and she realized then how much she had actually changed.

“I’ll take the money,” she said, nearly choking on the words. “I’ll take the money. I can’t live like this. With you.”

Sylvia looked at her then, a look of sincere pity. “Out of jealousy of me?” she asked. “After everything I’ve told you, and everything you’ve seen, after having his teeth in your neck, it’s jealousy that makes you leave? BecauseIstill sleep with him?”

Flora swallowed a sob. “I guess so,” she said. “I hate feeling this way. I love him. I do. I can’t share him.”

“Oh, Flora,” said Sylvia, and took a step closer to her. She almost looked, to Flora, like she might hug her. She couldn’t stand being pitied.

“Stop it,” she shouted, screamed. “Don’t touch me. I hate you. I hate you, Sylvia. I hate you. I hate you!”

“You can hate me,” Sylvia said. “I don’t care if you hate me. I never have. All I ever wanted was to save you.”

Flora went into the house, with Sylvia hobbling behind her.

“The money is still in that bag, in my room,” she called. “You can take my Range Rover. I’ll sign the title over to you right now.”

“I want the Corvette,” Flora snapped.

“Whatever,” Sylvia said, sighing and laughing. “Take whatever you want!”

“What about your horses?” Flora said, stopping on the stairs as she ran up to Sylvia’s bedroom. “They’ll die.”

Sylvia shrugged. “I’ll figure it out. Or not.”

“I can’t?—”

“I have survived a long time without you. I’ll figure it out. I can hire someone who isn’t… to his tastes.”

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