I stared at it, unsure what to say.
"Do you like it?" Seth asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"I...yeah. Yes, I do. Very much." My words came out haltingly.
"You seemed so sad about losing the other one that I thought maybe this would be a nice substitute."
He looked so rapt and excited that I couldn't bear to tell him that not only had I not lost the original ring, I'd actually hidden it away in the closet so as never to see it again. This one was very different, true, but the similarities were strong enough to dredge up all the dark feelings I tried to keep buried, memories of a sunny day long ago when my husband - the husband I'd eventually betrayed - had slipped the other one onto my finger at our wedding.
"It's beautiful," I said after a long stretch of silence, needing to reassure him. It had been very kind, after all. Seth didn't know my history or the pain intertwined with it. "Why a dolphin?"
"Yeah...it's kind of cutesy and trendy, but...well, none of those Greek letters meant much to me. But I read something about dolphins being important in old religions on Cyprus, so..."
That brought a true smile to my face. "Yeah. They were. Messengers from the sea gods. Good fortune and all that." Something occurred to me. "We saw these at Erik's, like, a couple days ago - but not this one. How'd you get it? Did he have more in stock? Or did you go somewhere else?"
His eyes crinkled with amusement. "Hey, I'm learning your powers of persuasion. I got in contact with the artist and commissioned it."
Good lord. Seth had had a custom ring - a platinum custom ring - made right before Christmas. And he'd had it done in a matter of days. The cost must have been through the roof. The queasy feeling in my stomach intensified. Observing my silence, his smile faltered.
"You sure you like it?"
"Yeah, yeah...of course. I just...I'm sorry, I don't know what to say. It's great." I slipped it onto my right ring finger. It fit perfectly. Hesitantly, I met his eyes. "This is a, uh, friendship ring right?"
"Yeah, don't worry. If I propose, you'll know it. For one thing, I'll be hyperventilating." A sly smile - surprisingly sexy - turned up his lips. "And it'll be a ruby."
"Rubies? No diamonds? Too expensive for the old writer's salary, huh?"
He made a disparaging grunt at that. "No, I just think diamonds are common, that's all. If I get married, it'll be because something uncommon is occurring. Besides, you wear a lot of red, right? I know how important it is for your accessories to match."
I snorted at that and let him draw me into the bed. He fell asleep quickly, as always, but I lay there, touching the ring. Its metal had warmed to my skin, and I could trace the dolphin and sapphires with my fingertip. The unpleasant memories the ring stirred up hadn't abated, but somehow, lying in his embrace, they seemed a little less painful.
Sleep finally came to me, and I immediately started dreaming - the dream.
I was back in the kitchen, surrounded by all the same vivid sights, smells, and sounds as before. My hands in the water. The scent of orange soap. "Sweet Home Alabama."
It was a repeat of what I'd seen before, my dream-self washing dishes and humming along to the music. She glanced behind her into the other room. This was where the dream had ended last time. Now it kept going.
A little girl sat in the living room, about two years old. She was on a blanket on the floor, surrounded by stuffed animals and other toys. She clutched a plush giraffe in her hands. It rattled when she shook it. As though sensing my dream-self's gaze, the little girl looked up.
She had plump cheeks that hadn't quite lost their baby fat. Wispy, light brown curls covered her head, and her hazel eyes were large and framed with dark lashes. She was adorable. Behind her on the couch, Aubrey lay curled up in a tight little ball. Another cat - covered in orange-and-brown patches - sprawled nearby. I'd never seen it before.
A delighted smile spread over the little girl's face, creating a dimple in one check. A powerful wave of love and joy spread through my dream-self, emotions that my watching self felt. I knew then - knew in a way I couldn't explain but knew with absolute certainty - that this girl was my daughter.
I woke up.
Just like last time, morning had arrived with almost no passage of time for me. Sunlight again poured through the windows, and beside me, Seth still slept. Also like last time, my energy was gone. I was drained.
But the ache of that missing energy was nothing compared to the ache I felt from being ripped out of the dream, of being stripped of the powerful emotions my dream-self had felt for that little girl. Her daughter. My daughter.
No, that was impossible, I scolded myself. Succubi could have no children. I'd left that path behind when I sold my soul.
It had felt so real, though. So intense. It was impossible for me to have a child, but in that dream, she had been mine. No doubts. Even now, I felt that maternal tug, and not having her here right now tore at my heart.
And again, I told myself that was stupid. Dreams weren't real. That's why they were...well, dreams. And I had bigger problems to deal with. Like the missing energy.
Beside me, Seth stirred and unconsciously pulled the covers around him, leaving me uncovered. I yanked them back, and he turned toward me, opening sleepy eyes.
"Hey," he said. "What gives?"
"Not you, apparently."
"Not you either, apparently."
"Hey, I'm the evil one, remember?"
We bantered a bit more and continued playing tug-of-war with the covers. I put on a smiling face so I wouldn't have to explain my problems to him. Finally, I slipped away, though part of me wished I could stay in bed for the rest of the day. Dreaming. But Seth had writing to do, and I had an afternoon shift to work.
Back home, I found Vincent up and around, making breakfast in the kitchen with Yasmine. They greeted me boisterously, giggling over some conversation that had occurred before my entrance.
"You want some eggs?" he asked me, catching a stick of butter tossed over by Yasmine. Presumably they'd gone grocery shopping since I hadn't had any butter in my kitchen before this. Or any food, really.
"No thanks," I said, settling myself on a stool. "I already ate."
"You're missing out," she said. "Vincent makes eggs that are so decadent, they're totally sending him straight to Hell."
Setting a skillet on the stove, he turned on the burner, listening to the clicking sound made while the gas took a moment to ignite. "Oh, it's the eggs that are going to do it, huh? Last time you told me it was going to be my parking."
The angel's eyes sparkled with mischief. She'd pulled her sleek black hair up into a ponytail, making her look very young. Ironic, considering her age was beyond human or succubus comprehension.
"Oh, geez. Yeah. I forgot about that. Huh. Now there's a toss-up. I'm not sure which is going to send you down below faster. Needing a stick of butter to cook two eggs or parallel parking three feet from the curb."
He jabbed her arm with a wooden spoon. "Three feet? You know, I've never even seen you drive a car. The only thing you drive is me - crazy."
"Oh yeah, whatever. You were crazy before I ever came along."
Glancing back and forth between them as they bickered further, I realized they'd forgotten my presence. Feeling intrusive, I discretely backed away, down the hall and to my bedroom. Closing the door, I glanced in astonishment at Aubrey. She sprawled on my bed, warmed by a patch of sunshine.
"Has that been going on all morning, Aub?"
Yawning, she blinked at me with green eyes and then curled into a perfect white ball - similar to the position I'd seen her in in the dream. She covered her face with one paw.
Um, okay. This was unexpected. I mean, was I crazy? Or had they...had Yasmine and Vincent been flirting? I mean, sure she was a friendly angel and everything, but that...yes, the more I thought about it, the more I believed they had been flirting. More than flirting. Weirder still, it hadn't been the kind of banter two people toss back and forth during the courtship phase either. It was the familiar teasing of two people who had been together for a long time, two people so utterly comfortable in each other's presence that they could almost finish each other's sentences. It was like the phenomenon Erik had described with Seth and me.
"They're in love," I told Aubrey disbelievingly. She continued to ignore me.
How did that even work? They couldn't be sleeping together. I'd learned a while back that doing that would make an angel fall, and Yasmine was still clearly on the side of truth and justice. So what did that mean? Was it okay if an angel loved a human so long as they stayed physically apart? Something inside of me didn't think so. After seeing how prudish Joel had been, I felt pretty confident even a chaste love affair wouldn't fly with him or the others. So none of them probably knew, not even Carter. And honestly, I didn't know if I wanted to know. I was a sucker for star-crossed lovers, but those relationships never actually ended well.