Intersections Read online

  Tori looked at the portraits on the wall. "What happened to her? How did she end up in the chair?”

  "An accident."

  His tone of voice had changed. Gone flat. Distant.

  Tori turned to face him. "What kind of accident?"

  "The kind that should have killed her." In the dusty dim light, Luka's eyes flashed bright green. "Only it didn't."

  She thought about the bowls in the kitchen. "What happened to Rusty?"

  "Something in the woods got him," Luka replied without so much as flinch.

  She remembered the pile of rocks and the single red rose. "Did you bury him out there?"

  "No. There wasn't enough of him left."

  She looked at him. "Did whatever's out there in the woods have something to do with your mother's accident?"

  "No."

  Tori looked down at the baby. "I worry that something will happen to me, and Rose will be left alone."

  Luka's big hand caressed the baby's head. His fingers brushed Tori's breasts, but if he did that on purpose to cop a feel, his expression wasn't giving anything away. A small thrill rippled through her at the touch, but she made sure her own expression didn't reveal that.

  She put a few steps distance between them. Tori lifted her chin toward the old woman's portrait, set at a distance from her sons'. "She was beautiful."

  "She is beautiful," Luka said. "So are you."

  "That's the sort of thing someone tells you when they want something from you," Tori replied.

  "Is it?"

  She nodded. "What do you want from me, Luka?"

  "Maybe I don't want to take anything from you. Maybe I want to give you something."

  She faced him. "What do you want to give me?"

  "A new life."

  For a long, long few moments, Tori could not find a voice to answer him. Her throat closed. She coughed, uncertain she would find the words to answer him. Not sure until she spoke what she might even be able to say. "I think I could use a new life, to be honest. But I have no idea how you think you'll give it to me."

  A figure loomed in the doorway. "Luka. Mother wants you. Both of you."

  Tori couldn't see who it was; she supposed it didn't matter. They were all so alike, and Luka was the only one who bothered to really interact with her at all. Without another word to her, Luka left the room, and after a moment's hesitation, Tori followed.

  "Here, this is for you," Mother said when Tori came into the room. She gestured with one hand, the other still resting on the planchette, at the carved wooden bassinet. "I had Declan bring it out of the basement for you. Micah cleaned it. Jackson put fresh bedding in it. You can place the baby in it to help give you a rest. All of my children used it when they were babies."

  Tori eyed the bassinet, which looked old but not dangerous, the way she'd heard old cribs could be. "Thank you."

  "I remember how tiring it could be to carry a child around all day, especially while still recovering from the birth. You're our guest here, and it behooves us to make your stay as comfortable as possible." Mother settled her fingertips back on the planchette, which swung immediately toward the YES.

  "Thank you," Tori's stomach rumbled and, surprised, she put a hand flat on it.

  "You're hungry," Mother said. "You should eat."

  Tori frowned. "I just ate."

  "Your body has gone through so much. You need to nourish it. Luka will bring you some soup, I think. Yes?"

  Soup sounded delicious. Tori's stomach rumbled again. "Sure, thank you."

  "Put the baby in the bassinet and sit, my dear girl. Give your arms a rest. Enjoy your food." Mother flicked her fingers toward Luka, who was lingering in the dining room. "Didn't you hear me? Our guest would like something to eat!"

  "He doesn't have to serve me," Tori said quickly with a glance at him.

  Declan had been sitting in the chair next to Mother's, and now he laughed under his breath, the sound without humor. Mother rapped the table hard enough to make the planchette leap on the Ouija board. Declan shrugged and looked away from her, catching Tori's glance for a few seconds. His flat gaze sent a shiver down her spine.

  "Go get more wood for the fire," Mother told him. "Make yourself useful."

  Without a word, Declan followed Luka from the room. After a hesitation, keeping the bassinet close to her, Tori settled Rose into it with a sigh of relief for her stiff, aching back. The baby complained for a second or so before going quiet. She was alert, but content when Tori took the chair at the end of the table.

  Her stomach rumbled again, and this time she put both her hands on it, pressing lightly. Embarrassed. She had to swallow against an uprush of saliva as the smell of something delicious drifted to her from the hallway.

  "Where are the others?" Tori asked to make conversation.

  Mother tilted her head to stare at her. Beneath her fingers, the planchette spun lazily. "Perhaps they're chopping wood. Perhaps they're taking naps. Or reading books. Or doing the things boys do when they're alone."

  They were far from being boys, all of them, but even so Tori didn't want to think about what those things might be. Luka brought in a tray. A huge bowl of soup and a smaller plate next to it, a thick cut slice of crusty bread smeared with butter. Her stomach rumbled again.

  "Be careful," Mother said, watching her. "Don't burn your tongue."

  Tori wanted to hesitate, to be careful, to at least have the manners Mother had already accused her of not having, but she was so fiercely ravenous she could not stop herself from dipping the spoon into the soup and drinking a long mouthful. It was so good, so fucking good, thick and rick with broth and salt and vegetables, that she groaned aloud. Bite after bite, the spoon too small to get the food into her fast enough, she drank. She lifted the bowl and drank directly from it, stopping herself only at the sight of Mother's face.

  Instead of chastisement, the old woman offered encouragement. "Yes, yes. Eat. You need your strength."

  Tori sat back in the chair to take a breath. The soup had taken the edge off her hunger, but she wanted more. As though he'd already guessed that, Luka appeared with a platter of sliced cold chicken. Seasoned noodles. More bread and butter. Green beans.

  Tori gobbled, using her fingers, shoving the food in so fast she could barely keep up. Chewing. Moaning at the burst of flavors on her tongue.

  She couldn't remember the last time food had brought her such pleasure. She dug into another helping of chicken, more noodles, she swiped the bread through the sauce of seasoning and melted butter left behind on the plate.

  She gorged.

  With her belly distended, Tori sat back in the chair and stifled a long, rumbling burp with the back of her hand. She laughed, certain Mother would scold. The old woman laughed gently. The planchette tipped toward YES.

  "In my day, it simply didn't do for a young woman to consume anything with such enthusiasm. Not food, nor other things." Mother's grin stretched over those square, unnaturally white teeth. "Fortunately, I had the guidance of the board to assure me that no matter how...fierce...my appetites, I should be free to pursue them."

  "I haven't eaten like that in years." Tori burped again, softer this time. "Excuse me."

  Mother gave a sharp glance toward the door, where Luka loomed in silence. "What are you doing? I've told you before, stop lurking. Be useful! Clear away these dishes!"

  With all the food in her belly, Tori could barely move, but she got up from the table. "I can help."

  "Don't be silly. You should rest." Mother snapped another glance toward her youngest son. "What are you looking at?"

  He was looking at Tori. She could feel it, the heavy weight of his green gaze, and she turned to meet it with her own. Men had looked at her with lust, sometimes. With anger. A few, with fear. None of them had ever looked at her the way Luka was right now.

  She had no idea what that unwavering gaze meant, but she couldn't even begin to think about it before a yawn stretched her jaws so wide she heard the creak and crackle of