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Dreams of Darkness

Page 25

by D L Pitchford et al.


  She shook her head, biting her lip. “When I was twelve, you might have gotten me to your side of the trestle with that alone.”

  “Perhaps, but that seemed cruel—more like blackmail than I’d wish, Ina. And, by then, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with you, or how to think of you. Once, you’d been a distraction, temporary. By the time you were becoming a teenager…I didn’t know what you were. A distraction and hobby who I’d soon part with, or someone I wanted to see grow into something more. No matter what, though, it was an inopportune time—taking you into my world would have meant virtually freezing you at that age, rather than seeing you grow into who you are now. I didn’t want that. Your age now, who you are now…things have changed since those days, Ina.”

  He dropped the stone to land beside the emerald, so that both of them rested there in his still open palm, beckoning.

  His words had come awkwardly, but it was his old nickname for her, which she’d heard so many times in the past, that did it. It erased the hesitation in her, and she reached for the emerald and her old rose quartz just as his fingers closed upon them, bringing her gaze back to his eyes.

  “Full disclosure,” he said slowly, “this will not cause you pain, not now, but there’ll be pain in the bonding ceremony when you return to me. You’ll find it to be painful at moments, enjoyable at others. Being subjected to Fae power for the first time isn’t an easy thing.”

  The seriousness of his tone paused her from tugging his fingers open to get to what she’d already begun thinking of as her stones. She looked straight into his eyes, feeling her own narrow. “Pain…worse than when I broke my wrist?”

  He shook his head, the immediacy of the gesture signaling its truth. “More like the pain of that tattoo on your shoulder, if concentrated.”

  For the first time since the day before, she laughed—honestly and really—and a certain freedom and belief opened up in her blood when Daelend grinned in response. “You may be in danger of sounding obsessive over this little stone and its horse image, the way you circle conversation back to it and kept it all these years.”

  He shrugged again, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “Nevertheless, the pain of that tattoo is likely comparable to what the bonding ceremony would put you through. And the nerves and the pleasure.”

  The last word stilled her heart for a moment, and she looked back to his closed palm. “Haven’t we already bonded, Daelend? After all this time?” She’d meant the question to sound like a joke, but it hadn’t come out as such.

  His hand caressed hers, stroking her skin rhythmically, warmth sliding from his skin to hers. “Yes. It’s why I want you as mine, Ina. But this will make it official, and what is more, it will bond you to my world, my fate and future. You’ll be as much Fae as human when it’s done.”

  Daelend’s fingers opened, and the stones were there for the taking again. Even as she thought about asking what he meant about her being something less than human if she joined him, and wished she could ask if the belonging would go both ways so that he would also be hers, and wondered what guarantee he could give her over this deal, she reached for the stones. Her hand landed on them, sandwiching them between his palm and hers, and she looked up to find him watching her face.

  “But you’ll let me go back before that. To see that you’re keeping your end of the promise.”

  He nodded, a flicker of apology showing in his expression. “And to say goodbye to your old life.”

  Chapter Four

  The stones seemed to grow heavier and heavier in her pocket as she moved away from the trestle, adding weight to a walk that had never felt so long. Things had seemed so simple when Daelend had confronted her with the truth of things—what he was, and what she’d be giving up if she asked him to fix what her sister had done. But what did it all mean, concretely?

  She dug her hand into the pocket of her jeans and felt the emerald, which it only occurred to her now was probably the most expensive thing she’d ever owned—if she could be said to own it. More expensive even then her car. Her fingers grazed the precious gem, and then her old rose quartz, and she continued walking like that, with her hand jammed into her pocket as if she were a sullen teenager. She felt as confused as one, after all, trying to manufacture meaning for what had transpired that night.

  Daelend had told her he’d set the clock back once she accepted the gemstone. That she’d be going back to her family without that day having ever begun, but little more than that. She’d had so many questions, but been hard-pressed to know what to ask or where to start—so, his assurance that things would take care of themselves once she got home had been taken on good faith. Now, walking through her parents’ subdivision, the unnatural weight of the stones in her pocket was the only sign that she hadn’t imagined their whole meeting—her whole night. If only she’d imagined the whole day, also.

  Saying goodbye, there’d been a part of her that had just wanted to stay with him, rather than chance the fact that her life would be what it had been earlier that day. The whole day had been cold, until she’d gotten to him.

  The couch on her apartment empty when she woke, an ambiguous note of apology from her sister the only sign that she’d been sleeping there for the last week. Then, her sister walking into the library with that gun, and the shots and blood that had followed. Marina had been in shock after that, sitting in the passenger seat of a cop car that belonged to her sister’s high school boyfriend, who she hadn’t seen in years—not since they’d broken up, and half-broken her mother’s heart in the bargain.

  He’d questioned her about her sister’s breakdown, the past few days, where she might have gotten the gun—everything. But he’d seemed so sad that all she’d been able to think about was how things might have turned out differently if her sister hadn’t cheated on him. And then he’d driven her to her childhood home instead of to her apartment, and she’d sat with her parents on their couch in the living room, all of them crying through the afternoon and evening until she’d finally walked away from the house…but to the ironworks instead of to her car, parked only a mile away. And that…that was wrong, now, because her car was in front of her.

  Her parents’ house was lit up at nearly every window, and the driveway held their cars, plus hers and another. She stopped beside them. Hers was a red Chevy sedan that had once belonged to her mom and then been passed down to her when she’d gotten the job at the library. The other was newer, but she didn’t recognize it as belonging to anyone she knew. There wasn’t time for her to worry about how her car had gotten there, though.

  At the edge of the porch, she fisted the two worry stones in her pocket, and then she told herself she was ready to face whatever was going on inside.

  “Marina, is that you?”

  The call had come from the dining room, irritation ringing out in her mother’s voice, so she followed it toward the sound of conversation coming from the dinner table and then froze at the edge of the room. Her parents looked like they always did, in the seats they always held. But her sister…her sister was there, and she looked healthy in a way she hadn’t looked for years. Her hair was its natural auburn rather than the dull black she’d been dying it in recent years, and her eyes were bright—bright and happy like they’d been before all of the medications and breakdowns. Beside her, her old high school boyfriend—now a sheriff’s deputy, the same one who’d questioned her outside the library—was filling his plate with seconds from a nearly emptied casserole dish.

  “Where were you?” her father asked. “Your sister and Robby were getting worried.”

  “I…I got held up at work.” Hurriedly, she pulled herself deeper into Daelend’s coat and moved sideways into the kitchen, wanting space to catch her breath.

  “And take off that hoodlum’s coat, too!” her father called after her. “You can date Ace, but I don’t have to be reminded of him.”

  Ace? That was Olivia’s thug of a boyfriend…

  But the thought was cut off by her sister, in
the flesh, following her into the kitchen. Seeing her, Marina reached for the bottle of wine sitting on the table, wanting to steady herself, but her sister caught her hand.

  “Honey, that’s probably not a good idea. He’ll get over you being late.” Olivia pulled her into a hug of greeting and patted her back as if reassuring her, but Marina couldn’t find any words of answer. Whatever Daelend had done, she was struggling to catch up. This wasn’t just a clock being turned backward—this was her world being twist-turned sideways.

  “Not a good idea?” she repeated, pulling back from her sister to look at her. She’d never seen her this healthy—at least, not as an adult.

  “With that new medication Mom told me you’re taking? Wait—honey, tell me you didn’t stop taking it already? And with the new job…”

  Marina only stared at her. She wasn’t taking any medications. She didn’t have a new job. She’d worked at the library for three years now, since before she’d graduated from the community college.

  “Mom told me about it,” Olivia said, pulling her into a chair. “Did you eat with Ace?”

  Ace again. Jesus, they really thought she was dating him. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Look, I know it’s not what you want forever, but working at a burger joint won’t hurt you until you figure out what you want, and it’ll keep Mom and Dad off your back, too. If things get bad again, you can move in with me—the couch isn’t too uncomfortable,” she joked, reaching up to push some of Marina’s hair back behind her ears. She hadn’t done that since she’d been sixteen.

  “No, it’ll be fine,” Marina choked out. “It’s just…it’s so good to see you, Liv.”

  Her sister’s lip quirked up, confusion playing out over her expression. “We had lunch together yesterday, babe. Remember?”

  Marina swallowed. No, she didn’t remember. She didn’t remember any of this. But, obviously, she was dating the thug her sister had been dating months before. And she was the one working at a burger joint and going on and off medications. The one living in their parents’ guest room. Her sister was the one with an apartment—a life.

  Something pounded in her heart, but she wasn’t sure whether it was a laugh or a sob that was trying to bubble up, so she pulled her hand from her sister’s grip and reached for the wine again over her protests. She poured it into a dirty teacup that had been sitting there and gulped it down before filling the glass again.

  When she looked up, her sister’s eyes were tearing, and guilt flared up in her chest. This wasn’t the way Marina wanted to say goodbye.

  “Liv, it’s okay…I’m taking the meds. It’s just…it’s just been a bad day, okay? A few glasses of wine won’t hurt me.”

  “Teacups, babe. You’re drinking wine out of a dirtied teacup. And the meds…”

  “I broke up with Ace,” Marina blurted out, searching her brain for some excuse. “Okay? So, I’m fine, just…”

  Olivia wrapped her in a hug again, and Marina let her head rest on her sister’s shoulder, tuning out the platitudes she was whispering. It didn’t matter what words were coming out of her sister’s mouth, or what the goodbyes tonight would look like.

  Daelend had kept his promise, and Olivia had her life back, and more.

  Chapter Five

  Daelend had told her to be back at his side in less than twenty-four hours, and that he’d be waiting for her whenever she arrived. At the time, she’d expected to take twenty-four hours.

  In the end, it was closer to five.

  The night had gone quickly if not pleasantly. As Daelend had instructed her, she’d made sure each of her family members touched the emerald, which they’d seen as a simple green worry stone. In a store, she was sure that whatever they’d seen wouldn’t have cost more than a few dollars based on their reactions, but she’d passed it around as if it were a priceless gift, acting like a fool and making sure they all touched it. They’d humored her, and that was fine.

  As soon as the house had quieted, Marina slunk back up to the coatrack and retrieved Daelend’s coat, only to slip out the door and head back across town. This time, there was no hesitation in her step. Even if Daelend didn’t show up until the next night, she’d already vowed that she’d sit in the woods and wait for him. She couldn’t take another day of seeing that worry in the eyes of Olivia and her mother, or the disappointment and annoyance in her father’s. No doubt, what Daelend had done had been for the best, but she wouldn’t prolong her goodbyes now that it had been done.

  Daelend was true to his word, though. Even from her side of the river, she could see him sitting on the log where she’d left him.

  “You waited for me,” she said needlessly.

  “A few hours in your timeline, a moment in mine—I didn’t wait, but I came back near as soon as I left. Are you ready?”

  Was she ready? Marina stared at him for a beat, and then nodded.

  “Take out the emerald, hold it in your hand, and follow close behind me. If you need to stop, tell me—don’t just stop. Understand?”

  His eyes on hers, he waited for her nod before he turned away and began walking. Marina set her lips and followed behind him.

  At first, the woods looked like those on her side of the river, but the night seemed to grow darker as they moved—the leaves and the branches looked more black than green and brown, and what lay beneath their feet felt less firm, as if they walked on loose soil. When a sound pulled Marina’s eyes from Daelend’s back, to glance into the blackness surrounding them, the sight of dozens of glowing eyes stopped her mid-step and she gasped. A moment later, it was Daelend’s firm grip on her elbow that pulled her forward again, and from then on she walked without looking away from his form ahead of her.

  Soon, they began climbing, and while Marina first tried to figure out what direction they might be heading in and what mountain it was they were facing, the sudden appearance of a rope bridge that looked ancient forced her to quit any attempt of linking this terrain with what she might have already been familiar with. On the bridge, she kept one hand in Daelend’s and one hand on the rope as he led her across, and she only glanced down to the water once—it was black also, but running with giant sparkles of white that she assumed were fish, though they were unlike any she’d ever seen. On the other side, Daelend turned to face her, and before she could gather breath to speak, he’d pulled two cloths from his sleeve and reached to her face; one, he placed around her eyes, blindfolding her, and the other he tied loosely across her lips and around her head. As a gag, it was more symbol than force, and she knew she could speak around it if she truly tried, but the meaning was clear.

  His fingers landed on her chin, tilting her head so that she would have been looking at him if she hadn’t been blindfolded. “Trust me.”

  And then they were moving again, both of her hands in his, his arms stretched out behind him to lead her forward. For a while, they moved like that, the emerald once again sandwiched between their palms in one tight grip. Then, he stopped, and she took the time to catch her breath. They’d been moving quickly, and she didn’t know for how long, but she’d broken out in a sweat beneath his jacket, and all of the walking and the stress of the day were beginning to catch up with her. She was out of breath, and her lungs ached, but still she didn’t speak because he hadn’t given her any signal that she should, and the gag, for what it was, was still in place.

  His hands landed on her shoulders, and then the coat was slipping off of her. “Alright?” he asked.

  She nodded, actually glad to have lost the garment’s weight, she was so warm now.

  “You hold onto the stone, Ina, and keep trusting me.”

  She gulped down an urge to begin questioning him as his hands landed on her wrists, and then he was raising them over her head. What felt like chain-link bracelets circled her wrists, pulling them together, and then the chains were tightened and Daelend’s hands left her skin. The tension dropped from her arms and she let them hang above her, raised high. She might have spoken then,
but suddenly his hands were at the back of her head, tightening both the blindfold and the gag.

  The blackness was absolute now, so his command for her to close her eyes baffled her when it came, but she did so anyway.

  And then, for the first time, she felt his lips. First, just below where the chains still held her wrists above her head, he kissed her lightly on one forearm and then her other, and with such a soft pressure that she might have thought she’d imagined it if he hadn’t landed at her neck next. She breathed in his scent—the forest, and sage, and a sort of musky scent, darker and more heavy than the others, that she’d gotten from the jacket and come to think of as his. She tilted her head, enjoying the feel of him pulling her hair into a tight train down her back so that he could access her skin more easily. The warmth of the kiss centered all of her body into his lips, where slowly her skin began to tingle, almost to sting, as the wet heat of his breath and tongue rested over her pulse. His hand fisted her hair at the nape of her neck, angling her throat for his kiss, and she sighed at the sudden pleasure of the slick warmth of him, wandering her skin in a way she’d only ever dreamed might happen. When he stopped, she felt her heartbeat racing, her lips gasping around the gag as her skin tingled where he’d kissed her.

 

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