Page 126 of She Who Devours the Stars
“Are you drinking alone?” she asked, accusing.
I picked up her glass—pre-poured, because I’d anticipated this exact situation—and handed it to her. She took it, sucked the rim, then drained half in a single pull.
“Damn,” she said. “That’s got a kick.”
“It’s fortified,” Dyris said, voice gone soft and dangerous.
Alyx eyed her. “Are you gonna come in, or do I have to drag you?”
Dyris considered, then shook her head. “I don’t swim in beverages.”
“I do,” I said, and slid off the lounger, landing with both feet in the shallows. The surface flexed under my weight, hugging my calves, then letting go. The salt burned at a scrape on my ankle, and I grinned through the pain.
I reached for Alyx, caught her wrist, and pulled her up until we were face to face. She was taller than I remembered, or maybe just more herself. Either way, it worked.
“You look good,” I told her.
She rolled her eyes. “You look like you slept in a washing machine.”
“Didn’t sleep,” I said.
She snorted. “Same.”
I cupped her face, thumb tracing her cheekbone, then kissed her. The taste was different this time: sweeter, with a sharp edge, like lime and possibility. She kissed back, harder, biting my lower lip until I gasped. Then she laughed, a sound so alive it made the air in the room bend.
Dyris watched, her glass half-raised, mouth twisted into a not-quite-smile.
Alyx broke the kiss, licked the blood from my lip, and said, “We’re matching now.”
“Not for long,” I replied. I spun her around and dunked her head first, then jumped in after, the pool closing over us like a dream made entirely of flavor and light.
Under the surface, the noise of the world vanished. It was just the two of us, floating, skin to skin, the pulse of the mythic grid humming in our bones. I hooked my foot behind Alyx’s knee, pulled her close, and we tumbled together, her arms around my waist, fingers tracing the line of my spine.
We surfaced, gasping. The air above the pool was warm and wet, thick with the scent of salt and fruit and something I couldn’t name.
Dyris had set her glass aside and stood at the edge, arms crossed, watching us with the patience of a star waiting for its planets to align.
Alyx reached for her, but Dyris shook her head. “You’re both wasted,” she said.
“That’s the point,” I told her.
She didn’t argue, just knelt and ran her hand through my hair, squeezing the margarita out in slow pulses. Her touch was cold, clinical, but when her fingers slid down to the nape of my neck, I felt the old current flare up. It wasn’t lust, not exactly. More like need, or nostalgia for a version of ourselves that had never existed.
Alyx watched, then smirked. “You gonna join us, or just supervise?”
Dyris’s eyes narrowed. “If I get in, you’ll never get me out.”
“That’s a risk we’re willing to take,” I said.
She considered, then reached for my face, wiping a streak of salt from my chin. She licked it, slow, then kissed me.
It was different this time. Less hunger, more gravity. Her tongue traced the cut Alyx had left, then found the place behind my ear that always made me shiver. I let her take her time, let the moment draw out until the rest of the world faded to black.
Alyx pressed against my back, wrapping her arms around my chest and resting her chin on my shoulder. “This is nice,” she said.
“It is,” I agreed.
We stayed like that for a while, just breathing, three bodies orbiting a point of collapse, none of us willing to break the loop.
