between herself and Adam; the empathy, the bond that drew them together, couldn't be ignored. Clearly, it was possible to love two different people at once.
And Diana had the first claim.
"You still love her," Cassie whispered, needing to confirm it. An ache was beginning deep inside her.
He shut his eyes. "Yes." His voice was ragged. "God, Cassie - I'm sorry..."
"No, that's good," she said. She knew the ache now. It was the pain of loss, of emptiness, and it was growing. "Because I do, too. And I don't want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her. That's why I promised myself I'd never let either of you know..."
"It's my fault," he said, and she could hear the self-condemnation in his voice. "I should have realized sooner. I should have recognized how I felt and dealt with it. Instead, I forced you into exactly what you were trying to prevent."
"You didn't force me," Cassie said softly, honestly. Her voice was quiet and steady; everything was simple and clear again, and she knew what she had to do. "It was both our faults. But that doesn't matter, the only thing that matters is that it can never happen again. We have to make sure of that, somehow."
"But how?" he said bleakly. "We can be sorry all we want - I can hate myself - but if we're ever alone again... I don't know what will happen."
"Then we can't be alone. Ever. And we can't sit near each other, or touch, or even let ourselves think about it." She was telling him what to do, but she wasn't afraid. She felt only the certainty of what she was saying.
His eyes were dark. "I admire your self-control," he said, even more bleakly.
"Adam," she said, and she felt the melting inside her just at saying his name. "We have to. When you came back Tuesday night after my initiation, when I realized that you and Diana... Well, that night I swore I would never let Diana be hurt because of how I felt about you. I swore I'd never betray her. Do you want to betray her?"
There was a silence, and she felt the involuntary heave of his lungs. And with her inner senses she felt his agony. Then he let his breath out and shut his eyes again. When he opened them, she saw his answer before he spoke it, and felt it as his arms released her and he sat back, the cold air rushing in between their bodies, separating them at last.
"No," he said, and there was new strength in his voice. And in his face a new resolution.
They looked at each other then, not like lovers, but like soldiers. Like comrades-in-arms utterly determined to reach some common goal. Their passion held down and locked away, so deep that no one else would ever see it. It was a new closeness, maybe even more intimate than the trust of boyfriend and girlfriend. Whatever happened, whatever it cost them, they would not betray the girl they both loved.
Looking right into her eyes, he said, "What oath was it you swore that night? Was it one you got from somebody's Book of Shadows?"
"No," Cassie said, and then she stopped. "I don't know," she qualified. "I thought I was making it up, but now it seems like it might have come from something longer. It just went, 'Not by word or look or deed...' "
He was nodding. "I've read one with those lines. It's old - and it's powerful. You call on the four Powers to witness you, and if you ever break the oath, they're free to rise against you. Do you want to swear it again now? With me?"
The abruptness of his question took her breath away. But she was eternally proud of herself that with scarcely any hesitation she spoke clearly. "Yes."
"We need blood." He stood and took a knife out of his back pocket. Cassie thought she was surprised, then decided she wasn't. However nice a guy Adam might be, he was used to taking care of himself.
Without any particular flourish, he cut his palm. The blood showed black in the dim silvery light. Then he handed the knife to her.
Cassie sucked in her breath. She wasn't brave, she hated pain... But she gritted her teeth and put the knife against her palm. Just think of the pain you could have caused Diana, she thought, and with a quick motion she brought the knife downward. It hurt, but she