Where the Summer Ends - By Karl Edward Wagner Page 0,105

against her buttocks. Lisette’s hands came around her to cup her breasts gently.

At least Lisette had gotten over her silly tiff about Eddie Teeth. She’d explained to Lisette that she’d ditched that greasy slob when he’d tried to dry hump her on the dance floor, but how do you reason with a silly thing who faints at the sight of a snake?

“Jesus, you’re chilled to the bone!” Danielle complained with a shiver. “Better stand under the shower and get warm. Did you get caught in the rain?”

The other girl’s fingers continued to caress her breasts, and instead of answering, her lips teased the nape of Danielle’s neck. Danielle made a delighted sound deep in her throat, letting the spray rinse the lather from her hair and over their embraced bodies. Languidly she turned about to face her lover, closing her arms about Lisette’s shoulders for support.

Lisette’s kisses held each taut nipple for a moment, teasing them almost painfully. Danielle pressed the other girl’s face to her breasts, sighed as her kisses nibbled upward to her throat. She felt weak with arousal, and only Lisette’s strength held her upright in the tub. Her lover’s lips upon her throat tormented her beyond enduring; Danielle gasped and lifted Lisette’s face to meet her own.

Her mouth was open to receive Lisette’s red-lipped kiss, and it opened wider as Danielle stared into the eyes of her lover. Her first emotion was one of wonder.

“You’re not Lisette!”

It was nearly midnight when Lisette unlocked the door to their flat and quietly let herself in. Only a few lights were on, and there was no sign of Danielle—either she had gone out, or, more likely, had gone to bed.

Lisette hung up her raincoat and wearily pulled off her shoes. She’d barely caught the last train. She must have been crazy to let Dr Magnus talk her into returning to his office for another session that late, but then he was quite right: as serious as her problems were, she really did need all the help he could give her. She felt a warm sense of gratitude to Dr Magnus for being there when she so needed his help.

The turntable had stopped, but a light on the amplifier indicated that the power was still on. Lisette cut it off and closed the lid over the turntable. She felt too tired to listen to an album just now.

She became aware that the shower was running. In that case, Danielle hadn’t gone to bed. She supposed she really ought to apologize to her for letting Midge’s bitchy lies get under her skin. After all, she had ruined the party for Danielle; poor Danielle had had to get her to bed and had left the party without ever getting to meet Beth Garrington, and she was the one Beth had invited in the first place.

“Danielle? I’m back.” Lisette called through the bathroom door. “Do you want anything?”

No answer. Lisette looked into their bedroom, just in case Danielle had invited a friend over. No, the beds were still made up; Danielle’s clothes were spread out by themselves.

“Danielle?” Lisette raised her voice. Perhaps she couldn’t hear over the noise of the shower. “Danielle?” Surely she was all right.

Lisette’s feet felt damp. She looked down. A puddle of water was seeping beneath the door. Danielle must not have the shower curtains closed properly “Danielle! You’re flooding us!”

Lisette opened the door and peered cautiously within. The curtain was closed, right enough. A thin spray still reached through a gap, and the shower had been running long enough for the puddle to spread. It occurred to Lisette that she should see Danielle’s silhouette against the translucent shower curtain.

“Danielle!” She began to grow alarmed. “Danielle! Are you all right?”

She pattered across the wet tiles and drew aside the curtain. Danielle lay in the bottom of the tub, the spray falling on her upturned smile, her flesh paler than the porcelain of the tub.

•XI•

It was early afternoon when they finally allowed her to return to the flat. Had she been able to think of another place to go, she probably would have gone there. Instead, Lisette wearily slumped onto the couch, too spent to pour herself the drink she desperately wanted.

Somehow she had managed to phone the police, through her hysteria make them understand where she was. Once the squad car arrived, she had no further need to act out of her own initiative; she simply was carried along in the rush of police investigation. It wasn’t until they