THE FIRST DANCE

  “Want to go home?” Ginevra asked me, worried. I hadn’t said a word since she’d revealed the terrible truth: my Dakor had awakened. With every passing day, I was closer and closer to the transformation. How would I manage to prevent it? Whenever I wondered that, I felt a knot in my throat. I was afraid. I didn’t want to lose everything.

  “We can leave, if you want,” she insisted.

  “No. I want to stay.”

  “It doesn’t look like Evan is going to make it after all,” Simon told us. It was strange he hadn’t shown up yet, and by now it was clear he wasn’t coming.

  “I’m sure his mission delayed him,” Ginevra said. “Let’s go home, Gemma. You’re still upset.”

  “I said no.” I wiped my tears with my hand. “You guys got all dressed up for me. I don’t want to ruin the party. Nausyka would never forgive me.”

  “We didn’t get dressed up like this just for you,” Ginevra said, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. I smiled. She loved that dress.

  “We’ll stay if she wants to,” Simon spoke up, “but on one condition.”

  “Which is . . . ?” I looked at Simon, curious.

  “That you’ll do me the honor of granting me the next dance.”

  “What?” Simon had gotten a smile out of me. “You don’t have to do that for me, really.”

  “I don’t have to, but you do. You have to do it for me.”

  “Why would our dancing be a favor to you?”

  Simon took my hand in his white-gloved one and kissed the back of it with a bow. “Because I come from a distant time in which a lady wasn’t permitted to leave a ball without having first danced with at least one gentleman.”

  Smiling at his sweetness, I looked at Ginevra and she nodded her approval. I squeezed Simon’s hand and walked at his side to the center of the ballroom. “But we’re not in your time,” I finally said.

  “Let’s pretend we are, shall we?” He bowed slightly, without taking his eyes off mine, and I curtsied to him.

  Everyone was lined up, ready to begin the magical dance. I was sorry Evan wasn’t with me, but at least having Simon there was a consolation. I cared about him so much. He’d protected me, risking his life so many times. I’d never forgotten how afraid I’d been at the sight of Desdemona pointing that gun at his head. He could have decided from that point on to abandon me, but he never had. He’d been at my side physically and morally, and I loved him for it. Not like I loved Evan or my baby, but with a deep, fraternal love, as though we shared the same blood.

  The music began and Simon smiled at me. “Ready?”

  “I promise not to step on your toes.”

  We moved to the rhythm of the violins, executing the dance steps. Stepping toward each other, we pressed our palms together before taking a step back. Simon twirled me around and knelt down like all the other boys, while the other girls and I circled them. Another step forward and another back. Then we both raised our right hands, palms facing without touching, and made a full circle, looking each other in the eye. We smiled the whole time, but when the circle was finished the line of boys moved down and I found myself facing another dance partner. He bowed, I nodded, and the dance began again. I danced with a boy I didn’t know and then with Jake, who was surprisingly gallant. Next came Brandon, who ogled my neckline the whole time. I had to give him a slap on the back of the head when he knelt down. I tried not to let the others notice, but he yelped and clutched his head, making the whole line of dancers grin.

  Then it was Peter’s turn. “Hi,” I said.

  He bowed before replying. “Hi.” We came together and he looked me in the eye. “You okay?” We joined palms and took a step back.

  “It was just a dizzy spell,” I assured him. He smiled, kneeling in front of me. “You going to ask for your crown back?”

  “That kind of stuff isn’t for me. I’m more the trophy type.”

  “Right.” I laughed. Peter was a jock and in his room he had a collection of cups and medals.

  He stood up and we looked each other in the eye, following the choreography. “I’m happy I got to dance with you.”

  “Even if just a little,” I reminded him.

  “Even if just a little,” he said, laughing before growing serious again and bowing to his new dance partner. I curtsied to the boy in front of me and jumped when I saw it was the boy from the fight. A tumult of emotions rose within me and I felt like running away. I tried to control my breathing and overcome my fear. The boy took my hand and turned me around, but then let go. Had he recognized me too? Impossible. In fact, a second later I felt him take my hand again while my back was still to him. I completed the circle and my heart skipped a beat.

  “My lady,” Evan said, smiling. He was right there in front of me, my hand in his. He bowed and I circled him, my heart pounding. He’d sent the boy away and taken his place. Evan looked so dashing in his Victorian clothes that it felt like I was lost in an ancient dream. He wore a white silk shirt beneath a black jacket from that era. A filmy neckerchief in black silk completed the look. We joined palms and when we neared each other he interlaced his fingers with mine. “I missed you,” he whispered, touching my forehead with his.

  Tears filled my eyes, releasing all my tension. “I missed you too,” I said. I raised my right hand and he stroked it as we turned around, gazing intently into each other’s eyes. He wasn’t supposed to touch my hand but the energy between us wouldn’t allow that distance, so our fingers touched and then parted, like two secret lovers who feared being exposed.

  The circle finished and we changed dance partners again, but the whole time his eyes never left mine, nor mine his. Before the time came for us to move down to another partner, Evan grabbed my hand and pulled me away.

  “Hey!” my new partner protested, but Evan paid no attention to him. Putting his arms around my waist, he led me in a dance all our own. Far from the others. Far from the world.

  The music stopped and the hall burst into applause. We took refuge in a secluded corner at the back of the room. A slow song came on, met by a chorus of approval. Evan took both my hands and placed them around his neck. Holding me by the waist, he stared at me intensely. We hadn’t seen each other for a whole day and I’d missed him as if he were oxygen; I needed him to breathe. “Oh, Evan. I thought you weren’t coming.”

  He rested his forehead against mine. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything in the world. I was hoping to get here in time for the first dance, but the mission took longer than expected.”

  “You made it. That was my first dance.”

  “But I wasn’t your first partner.”

  “You were the last one—that’s all that matters. Just for your information, Simon was the first.”

  He smiled. “Remind me to thank him. Did you get my note?”

  “Yes, it made me so happy, thanks. Now I know you’re thinking of me too when you’re on a mission.”

  Evan brushed a lock of hair off my forehead. “I can go to the ends of the earth, but my heart stays here with you.” He gently took my hand and placed it on his chest. “Hear that? There’s only silence here. Now listen.” He took my hand again and this time placed it on my chest. My heart was beating powerfully. “Your heart beats for us both.”

  I shook my head. “No, Evan. You shouldn’t say that.” I knew the message hidden in those words. If I died, he wouldn’t go on living without me. I couldn’t accept that. I needed to know he would be safe. “Take back your heart. If it means you would die without me, I don’t want it.” A tear streaked my face. Now more than ever I felt the end was near—the end of everything.

  Evan wiped the tear from my cheek. “Hey, why are you crying? What’s going on?”

  How could I tell him that everything I’d believed was wrong? That he was right and the transformation would be the end of everything? That it would be the end of us . . . “I’m scared, Evan.”

  He clasped my face in his hands and looked into my eyes. “I’m here now. I’m not leaving you.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t control it. You were right. The power is going to annihilate me.”

  Evan’s eyes widened. I could see he was shocked by my confession, torn. For such a long time I’d been saying just the opposite, and now, for the first time, I was casting doubt on everything. My life was in his hands. It depended on his decisions.

  “Help me, Evan. I don’t want to transform. I don’t want to forget you forever.”

  Evan held me tight. “I won’t let it happen. I would never have let it happen,” he told me. “I’m taking you with me to Heaven and you’re eating of the Tree. No matter what.”

  I rested my forehead against his. “Are you with me?” he whispered in my ear.

  “No matter what,” I repeated. For once, I would listen to Evan and go along with his plan. It was our only chance. The divine nectar would rid me of the evil inside me. I had to cling to that certainty.

  “I wouldn’t have given up anyway, but I’m thankful you finally changed your mind,” Evan admitted.

  “I should have listened to you before.”

  “One way or the other I would have convinced you. I wouldn’t have let you go, Gemma. I was desperate.” I looked him straight in the eye. On his face I could read his fear of losing me. “Because I’m desperately in love with you,” he continued in a whisper.

  I pressed my lips to his and he kissed me tenderly, brushing my tongue with his softly one moment and passionately the next. His hand slid into my hair to hold me closer as our mouths sought each other, hot from our forbidden love. The world around us disappeared. It was just me and Evan, locked in an embrace.

  “Marry me, Jamie.” He gazed at me intently, our breath mingling.

  “I’ve already said yes. I will marry you, Evan.”

  He shook his head, still resting on mine. “I mean here. Now. Marry me, Gemma,” he whispered against my lips.

  My heart skipped a beat. “But how—”

  “We’ll do it in secret. Just us. Simon will perform the ceremony, if you’ll agree to do it here. I don’t want to wait a second longer.” I closed my eyes, my heart ready to burst with emotion. “Say yes, Gemma. Be mine.”

  “I’m already yours,” I whispered, and kissed him.

  “It’s you and me. We don’t need anything else.”

  I looked at him. “My mother’s going to kill me.”

  “She won’t know. No one will know,” Evan whispered, smiling. “We’ll have a big ceremony once all this is over. Until then”—he took my hands and stroked the ring I wore on my finger—“only we will know. It’ll be our secret. So is that a yes?”

  I smiled and he didn’t take his eyes off mine as his voice filled my head: “Simon, you need to come here.” My heart began to pound. Were we really about to do it? Yes, yes, and again yes. I wanted to marry Evan. I wanted to join my soul with his; that was where it belonged.

  Simon soon reached us. “What’s going on?” he asked, worried. Anya and Ginevra turned up a second later and let out a cry of surprise when they mentally read our intentions.

  I smiled at Simon, the only one who still didn’t know what was happening. “Would you marry us?” I asked him point-blank.

  Unsurprised, he smiled back at me. “It would be an honor.”

  “We don’t have rings, though,” I pointed out.

  “There’s no need for anything new. Do you have something here with you that can serve as a testament to your love?”

  Without thinking twice, Evan grabbed his dog tag and pulled it over his head, laying it in Simon’s open palm. I took off my butterfly necklace and handed it to him. We couldn’t have found anything more symbolic. Both chains had been with us from the start: I never took mine off, even at night, and he never went without his either. They’d been there for our first kiss, when Evan had come into my dream to say goodbye forever; they’d been there when he’d declared his love and engraved our names on them; when we’d made love for the first time . . . and all the other times after that. They’d been there when he asked me to marry him and when I’d followed him all the way to Hell to give his dog tag back to him and we’d made love in the dungeon cell. Those chains were the emblems of our great love. I didn’t need anything else.

  Simon held them and began to recite an ancient litany I imagined was in Sanskrit. I gazed at Evan. He held my hands, his dark eyes lost in mine, as mine were in his.

  Simon held out our keepsakes, now consecrated. “Repeat after me: Tavātmānam upadhehi. ahaµ taµ saµdadhe.”

  Evan took my chain from Simon’s palm and, without taking his eyes from mine, whispered: “Entrust to me your soul and I will watch over it.”

  “I entrust my soul to you,” I said softly. Evan put the necklace around my neck and smiled. I took the dog tag from Simon’s palm and noticed there was another engraving on the back of it now, beside our names.

  “Tavātmānam upadhehi. ahaµ taµ saµdadhe,” I went on, this time in Sanskrit. Entrust to me your soul and I will watch over it.

  “Tubhyaµ mamātmānam upadadhe. I entrust my soul to you,” Evan replied. He leaned down slightly to let me slip the chain over his head and took my hands. My heart was beating so hard I was sure he could hear it. “Mamātmā mari‚ yati tvayā saha. My spirit will die with you and rise again with you.” He stroked my palm and a sigh of love filled my chest.

  “Mamātmā mari‚ yati tvayā saha,” I repeated, enchanted. The whole time his eyes had never once left mine.

  “Atyantam,” Simon decreed. “Your souls are united. Now and forever.”

  “Now and forever,” Evan whispered before kissing me. I rested my forehead against his and he held me tightly around the waist.

  “Now and forever,” I repeated, smiling against his lips.

  In the background, the lake watched us through the picture window, a silent witness. No one in the ballroom had noticed anything. They’d all been dancing while we joined our souls right before their eyes.

  I had become his wife.

  “Hey, make way for the maid of honor,” Ginevra exclaimed. “I need to congratulate the bride!” She came up to me and gave me a big, strong hug.

  “Congratulations, brother.” Simon shook Evan’s hand and gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder before hugging him.

  “You didn’t know anything about this?” I asked Ginevra, thinking she might have read Evan’s mind.

  “I knew he wanted to marry you, but I didn’t think he’d be crazy enough to do it here.”

  “What does it matter where they did it?” Anya spoke up. “It was so romantic!” She hugged me and I returned the gesture. “Congratulations. I’m rooting for you,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye.

  “I love you, Anya.”

  “Oh, if you knew how much I love you!” She squeezed me so long I started to laugh.

  “Okay, she gets how much you care about her,” Evan remarked, reclaiming my attention, “but now the bride’s coming with me.” He took me by the hand and led me away as violins played the notes of Odissea Veneziana.

  “Hey!” the girls grumbled, while Simon laughed.

  “Wait, where are we going?” I exclaimed, raising the hem of my long gown with one hand.

  Evan opened the front door and nodded at his motorcycle parked outside. “On our honeymoon,” he said with a sly smile. I smiled and followed him. He took off his jacket and offered it to me. I slipped it on and closed it snugly, though I knew he would warm the air around us so I wouldn’t be cold, the way he always did. He offered me a hand to help me onto the bike while holding the handlebar with the other.

  Ginevra and Anya watched from the door, smiling, and I waved goodbye. “Wait!” I took off the red lace garter that matched my dress and climbed on, holding him tight. The engine started up with a roar that filled the night. Evan gunned the accelerator and set off as I tossed the garter behind me. I saw Anya catch it.

  I hugged Evan, my heart warming at the thought of what had just happened. We had just secretly wed. He was my husband and I was his bride. Nothing could deprive us of that certainty. For the first time, I felt like everything would be okay. The Ambrosia would purify me and the nightmare would be over, replaced by our dreams. As though he’d heard my thoughts, Evan accelerated, racing toward that new hope, toward a new world where he and I would be together . . . this time forever.

  Atyantam.

  WAITING

  July 9th

  I gazed at Gemma, who lay on the bed in my room as I played the violin. Five months had gone by since the night of our wedding, and it had been the most wonderful time of my entire life.

  “Don’t stop. Keep playing for me, Evan.”

  “As you wish,” I whispered. I tucked the violin back under my chin, my damp hair falling over my forehead. My eyes were prisoners to hers as my melody filled the room, pursuing our eternal love. I couldn’t stop staring at Gemma as she lay there, relaxed, her cheeks flushed after we’d made love. The sun had just risen but the summer light was already streaming into the room. The song came to an end and I walked over to her.

  “There’s nothing sexier than a handsome, bare-chested man playing the violin while gazing into your eyes.”

  “. . . Said the woman who had bewitched him.” I touched the bow to her neck ever so slightly. “Will that suffice or would you have more, my lady?” She smiled at me, raising her arms over her head as the bow moved across her skin, sliding down to her breasts. It rose again and pushed the bra strap off her shoulder.

  “I could watch you play for hours,” she said. It had become her favorite thing, asking me for a song after we made love. She would lie there gazing at me while I poured my love for her into the strings, playing brand-new notes.

  “That last song reminded me of an old movie I used to adore. Canone Inverso: Making Love.”

  “I’ve never seen it, but we could watch it together.”

  “It’s really touching. I’m afraid I would cry more than usual. We’d better wait until after the baby’s born. You can listen to the soundtrack, if you like. It’s by Ennio Morricone.”