Christine’s arm wrapped around Leah’s stomach. Leah jumped, and Christine, brushing hair from Leah’s face with her free hand, joked, “Forget me already?”
Without turning from the window, Leah sighed, “First snow tonight.”
Like warm gushes of water, Christine’s fingers moved gently up and down Leah’s cheek. Enjoying the contrast, Leah rocked her head back and forth. “You’re so cold!” Christine gasped at the iciness, pulling their bodies closer together. “You prefer frost to fire?” she nodded at the fireplace at the other end of the room.
Leah stayed silent a moment, listening to the crackling wood, looking at the orangish light falling on select parts of the room, leaving the rest to darkness. Leah turned her head so that Christine saw half of her face. Christine couldn’t tell whether she was smiling, or if it wasn’t simply the fire revealing a curve. Leah’s eye, wide and intense, glowed yellow instead of green—something Christine was again unsure about, though she suspected it wasn’t merely a trick of light in this case.
“I’ve no preferences,” Leah’s words rolled out almost inhumanly smoothly, more like liquid than sound. “I simply know what I like.”
To Christine, Leah’s words sounded more like a thought Leah had said aloud than a response to her question. Leah’s gaze was focused outside, not at her. Nor had Leah’s hands reacted to her presence. Christine suspected Shadow was responsible. So she tried to appeal to Leah as Shadow would. “Some people do not like winter. They think of it as a time of death and languishing. But I see it as a time of purification. The cold suspends life and the snow settles over the land like an angel’s robe. When it is lifted, the old, withered life is gone, and the new life begins to thrive.”
Leah watched the snowflakes swirl around like pieces of clouds torn apart by a clap of thunder. Little else was visible outside, except the outlines of pine trees at the edge of the woods, and some naked trees closer to the house. The sky was hidden in grayness.
The religious connotation of Christine’s words bothered Leah, though strangely Shadow agreed with them. Her words are truer than she realizes. The cycle: one thing becomes another, one life conquers another, dark engulfs light and light covers dark. Purification holier than any of Christine’s churches, priests, or books. A losing of oneself into everything, living or not.
Christine knew Shadow still had her grip on Leah because of Leah’s lack of response. Christine tried to listen for Shadow, but according to Leah, Shadow communicated not so much through words, but through vibrations inside Leah’s body that created pictures in Leah’s mind. And though Christine could sometimes sense the thoughts and emotions in others’ minds, Shadow seemed to keep Christine from perceiving Leah’s thoughts with any clarity.
Seeing that the touch of words alone would be ineffective, Christine spun Leah around, forcing her eyes away from the window. She gripped Leah’s hands, asking, “You don’t actually want to go out there, do you?”
Before Leah spoke, she did not take her eyes off Christine’s. Though Christine was somewhat frightened by this, she refused to blink. Leah struggled to control Shadow’s anger. “You’re not jealous, are you? Jealous of Shadow?” Leah asked half-mockingly.
Christine yanked Leah toward her, rolled her eyes, half-smiled. “Absurd. I’m just worried about what she might have you do.”
Shadow had something to say about nagging motherliness, but Leah tightened her grip on Christine’s hands and hooked her feet around Christine’s ankles. Their bodies rubbed together, separated only by thin silks, and the heat between Christine’s thighs made Leah temporarily forget about the snow. “Don’t worry about me, Christine. I may walk in Shadow’s world for a while, but Shadow cannot exist without light.” Leah tucked a few strands of yellow hair behind Christine’s ear. “I’m lucky to have someone like you who understands my…unique condition. I know it must be something hard to accept.”
Christine looked out the window. “I try to understand how you must feel. You must want to be two places at once sometimes.”
“Yes. And I know you haven’t totally reconciled this with your faith, and that’s something we have to work through.”
Christine stepped back a few feet. “Actually, that has little to do with it.”
Stepping toward Christine, Leah said, “I find that hard to believe, especially considering how strong your faith is.” Christine kept moving back, and Leah kept advancing. Christine’s eyes narrowed and her body curled up with each movement. Leah found something amusing about this, and she said things she hadn’t been able to before. “I also know you haven’t completely reconciled our love with your religion’s laws.”
“First of all,” Christine snarled, “I told you that I don’t obey any religion’s laws, but those of a loving God, and that a loving God would not condemn love. Secondly, my problem with Shadow has not so much to do with my faith in God than with the situations she could get you into. Sometimes I think my faith bothers you more about your condition than it does me. Like now.” With unusual assertiveness, Christine grabbed Leah’s wrist and dragged her to the window. “I know you want to go out there, free yourself for a little while. Say you go out there with Shadow, but at some point Shadow vanishes and you’re left alone. You don’t think of these things like I do. You’d be helpless. You’d freeze to death.”
Surprisingly, Leah found Shadow was aroused by this rather than angered. Smiling, Leah said, “No I wouldn’t. You’d come and find me. Save me.” She put the back of her hand to Christine’s cheek, which jerked back at first, but then froze, allowing Leah’s caress.
Blushing, Christine turned her head away and closed her eyes. “I suppose I would, wouldn’t I? Stupid me.”
“No.” Leah drew Christine to her, and embracing, they fell against the window. The touch of the glass made Christine shudder, though she bit her lip and tried to conceal this. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trapping you. I’m just….”
“Shh.” Leah’s fingers crawled into Christine’s hair, smoothing it down. Their noses and foreheads met, tapping against each other. When Christine opened her eyes, Leah’s skin was flowing, flashing between orange and red and pink, and her eyes, large and swelling, glowed a yellow Christine was sure wasn’t from firelight. Leah’s throat rumbled beneath Christine’s fingers. Though her own body grew cold, Leah’s throbbed with such warmth it was almost painful to touch her. But Christine put hands on Leah’s shoulders, feeling them tremble. She turned her face away and sighed. “Go.” For a few seconds, Leah did not respond, and when she did begin to say something, Christine cut her off. “Go! Just don’t make me come looking for you, because you know I will.” Leah began to pull away from her, but she dug her fingers into Leah’s shoulders. “No. Just let me hold onto you until you leave.” Her face still turned away, she only heard the window open and the howling wind rush in. Snow tickled her face and body. She felt Leah’s shoulders convulse and melt away. Leah’s nightgown fell to the floor. Christine turned her head, closed the window, and watched the dark figure outside receding into the winter’s first snow.