Damned and Desolate

by S D Hegyes

  The smoke turned yellow when she looked at it again. Pale yellow. So pale, it was almost white. Sorsha gasped. It had never been that color before. What did it mean?

  Her gasp must have alerted Abaddon for he glanced down and saw the yellow smoke. His eyes widened, then narrowed, and then he glanced at her again. “What does that mean?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t know. Her throat tightened, as if stuffed with cotton, and she swallowed and cleared it before she could speak. “That’s never happened before. It’s always been orange or. . .”

  Her words trailed off. A flash of a memory, of crimson smoke, danced through her mind. She shook her head as it disappeared before she could analyze it.

  “So,” he said, lifting their conjoined hands. “This hasn’t ever happened before?”

  “Never,” she told him, infusing her words with as much truth as she was able.

  He studied her face for a moment before he took a step back and nodded. She unwrapped her legs from about his waist and dropped to the ground, using him to steady herself when her legs wobbled.

  “The trip didn’t bother you this time.” Abaddon’s mouth quirked at the corner as he tried to fight a smile.

  “No.” It had been unpleasant in the same way a roller coaster was, but kissing Abaddon had made it easier to handle. “I expected it this time.”

  He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets so only the thumbs were visible. “Plus, you might have been a little distracted.”

  “Maybe just a little.” She gave him an uneasy smile that melted into a frown. “Abaddon, what happened back there?”

  He didn’t answer. Turning away, he walked over to the sculpture of the three warriors. He brushed one hand over the air in front of it, without actually touching it.

  “I know there’s something different about you. Call it a hunch.”

  “I’m dangerous, Sorsha. I don’t know if you’ve realized that, but it’s true.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. It sounded like a cliche from a bad vampire teeny-bopper story. “Well, everyone’s dangerous in their own way with the right weapons, but. . .” Her words trailed off as she walked over to him and grasped his arm through his jacket. Her hand nearly wrapped around his entire bicep. “It’s not everyday I meet someone as lightly built as you who can lift me up as if I weighed less than a bag of flour.”

  His mouth twisted. “You know that, huh? Don’t know many who can lift you up, do you?”

  “Preston sure as hell can’t. It’s not that I’m heavy. I weigh next to nothing compared to others my age, but I’d struggle, and I can feel your strength. You’re nothing to laugh at, Abaddon.”

  “Many don’t.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” Her brow furrowed as she frowned and reached forward again. “Abaddon, what happened at the fair? I could see it, feel it. Something was wrong. You were fighting. . .” Her words trailed off as she waved her other hand, trying to find an explanation. “Something. I won’t even pretend to know what it was, but I’d like to know.”

  He looked away. “I can’t tell you.”

  Silence met his words. Finally, Sorsha admitted, “This isn’t going to work out, is it?”

  He sighed and shook his head. “We knew it wouldn’t. We can’t do this, Sorsha.”

  “I figured as much.” She gave him a smirk. “I can see you want me just as much as I want you, but there’s something going on that makes you say no.” She shrugged as he turned away again. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but it’s fine.”

  It wasn’t, but they could afford to add another lie between them if it made it easier to deal with.

  He flinched at her words. Was he one of those people who believed that when a woman said they were fine, they really weren’t? It didn’t matter. She was fine. Or as fine as she was going to be considering the circumstances they found themselves in.

  “It’s not, but I can’t tell you what you want to know.”

  “Were you going to kill him?” Her words were calm and straight-to-the-point, but even she hadn’t expected them until she’d spoken.

  Still, her words jerked his attention back toward her. Her brow furrowed, and she turned away, lost in her thoughts.

  “I thought you were,” she continued, “but now I’m not certain.”

  “I was.” Her gaze returned to his, eyes wide. “I saw you three when I first arrived, and I was close enough to hear the exchange.” He grinned at her. “You can handle your own, I’ll admit. Still, they made me angry, and when they kept looking for you, it only pissed me off more.”

  He sighed and looked away. “Yes, I was going to kill them. Both of them.”

  She nodded, accepting his words. “You didn’t even question it.”

  “What?” He cocked his head to the side and she wondered what about that statement confused him.

  Sorsha gave him a smirk and said, sarcastically, “You know, most people would call that premeditated murder.”

  “Babe, you have no idea how much murder I cause on a daily basis.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt.” Her grin turned into a frown as she realized he might be serious despite the teasing note in his voice. “But you can’t, or won’t, talk about it.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sorsha.”

  It was getting cooler. Sorsha shoved her hands in her pockets and turned away from him, studying the monument that surrounded them. She knew Abaddon watched her, but she ignored him.

  “Home.” His voice was so low, she knew he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, or she hadn’t been meant to hear.

  That didn’t stop her from responding. “What?”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

  It was a lie. It was everything. She knew it and he did too. She let the lie stand though.

  “We’re a couple of star-crossed lovers, aren’t we?” he asked with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “It feels like we’re in some kind of Shakespearean production.”

  Sorsha laughed and moved toward the sculpture of the three warriors. “In a way, it does.” She glanced at Abaddon out of the corner of her eye. “As long as this isn’t a tragedy, I’m good.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’d prefer this to be a darker version of Midsummer Night’s Dream rather than Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Romeo and Juliet were children whose families were dumber than they were.”

  “What?” He joined her, standing close enough she could reach out and take his hand, but she didn’t.

  “Romeo and Juliet? The concept is dumb. The adults were dumb. They should have taken more responsibility for their actions, and it took the death of their kids for them to understand their stupidity.”

  “I was thinking more of the doomed lovers portion of the story.”

  Her gaze met his as she realized what he was saying, her brow furrowed. “I didn’t realize we were meant to be enemies.” He turned away. “What aren’t you telling me, Abaddon?”

  “It’s better if you don’t know. Better for me right now. May be better for you in the long run.”

  She spun toward him, hand curled into a fist and punched his arm. “You don’t get to decide what’s better for me or not. I don’t put up with that crap from my parents or anyone else in Shaded Glade. I’m not going to put up with it from a near-stranger as well.”

  “That’s just it, Sorsha. We’re strangers. We don’t know enough about each other to know what the heck we’re doing. To trust each other.”

  “I trust you.”

  The words erupted as soon as he ended his statement, as if she’d known what he was going to say, and yet they seemed to surprise him. “What?”

  “I. Trust. You.” She pronounced each word individually, hoping something got through to him. “I don’t pretend to know why, but I do. I know you’re dangerous. You’ve said it and you nearly proved it tonight, but I still trust you. Completely.”

  “With your life?”

  She rolled her eyes and gestured around them. “L
ook where we are, Abaddon. We’re in a cemetery. If you wanted to kill me, you’d have done it and buried me already.”

  “Maybe it’s just too much work to dig a new grave.” He grinned at her.

  “If that were the case, you’d never have come back here and talked to me again—or come to the fair.”

  Silence stretched between them. The temperature dropped what felt like another twenty degrees. A couple snowflakes fell from the sky, but they melted as soon as they touched the ground.

  “This isn’t a normal date,” she said with a grin.

  “What about us is normal?”

  “You’ve got that right.” She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing against his lean form. She felt his chest move as he took a deep breath. Then his arms encircled her as well.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at the sculpture again. “You know, I’ve looked at this a dozen times. Probably more than that actually. I still think it’s beautiful and—” She struggled to find the words.

  “Powerful.”

  “Yes.” She pulled away from him. “This whole place is powerful.”

  Abaddon nodded. “There are a few places that host great power. Sometimes it’s because of those who inhabit the place, like the spirits here. Sometimes, it’s the place itself, and there’s no real explanation for why.”

  “I agree. Have you ever been to a place like this.”

  He closed his eyes, and she knew when she saw pain flicker across his features that he had. “I have. Not like this with natural power, but a place built on blood and sacrifice and murder.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Some places resonate with that kind of power to remind us what not to do in the future.”

  Sorsha didn’t respond. She slipped her hand into Abaddon’s, their fingers entwined, and watched as yellow smoke danced around their conjoined hands.

  “I’ll never get over that.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why it’s happening, and I don’t care. It’s cool, and I’m going to miss it.” She looked up at him with a soft smile on her face. “I’m going to miss you.”

  He frowned. “Saying goodbye already?”

  “Call it a hunch. You’ll be gone in a couple days, and I won’t see you again.” She shrugged. “Let’s face it, when Preston and Bobby report our being together, I won’t be allowed to leave the community again.”

  He winced. “Oh. Sorry about that.”

  She shook her head. “I had a more entertaining time than I thought I’d have, but we never rode the Ferris wheel.”

  He spun her into him so that she faced him with her free hand splayed across his chest. “We can fix that.” He dipped his head down and kissed her before he stepped into the shadows, taking her along with him.

  19

  While they stood in line for the Ferris wheel, Sorsha was afraid Preston and Bobby would make another pass and catch up with them. The only person who found them and recognized them though was Charlotte.

  “Sorsha?”

  Sorsha spun around and looked at the other woman. “Charlotte!” She released Abaddon’s hand and hugged the other woman with a huge smile.

  “I’m surprised you’re here. Happy surprised, don’t get me wrong, but surprised,” Charlotte said as she pulled away.

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m probably dead when I get home, but that’s besides the point.”

  Both Abaddon and Charlotte flinched at her word usage.

  “That’s not funny,” Abaddon said behind her in a low voice.

  “No,” Charlotte agreed. “No, it’s not.” She gave Abaddon an appreciative look. “You’re staying at the hotel, aren’t you?”

  Abaddon nodded and held out his hand. “I’m Abaddon.”

  “Charlotte.” She turned her attention to Sorsha and wiggled her brows. “He’s cute.”

  “Tell me about it.” Sorsha grinned, but didn’t tell Charlotte anymore about the man than that. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Abaddon grin with the same cockiness she’d seen when they first met. She rolled her eyes. “I think he knows it too. Could melt the panties off anyone he wants.”

  Charlotte laughed. “And yet, he’s chosen you.” She winked at Sorsha even as Sorsha’s face heated. “Have a good evening, you two. I won’t interrupt your date further, but Sorsha?” She gave her a meaningful look. “You owe me details later. Come by the hotel tomorrow? I have work, and it’ll help you escape for a bit.”

  “Will do,” Sorsha agreed and waved as Charlotte took off.

  “I like her,” Abaddon said in a low voice as he wrapped his arms around Sorsha and bent his head to her neck. “She’s good people.”

  “She is,” Sorsha agreed. “She let me hide at the hotel the other day rather than sending me home. I think she’s the first friend I’ve made.”

  The realization of her words struck her and she rocked on her feet.

  “Everything alright?” Abaddon’s voice held a tinge of worry.

  “I’ve never had a friend before. Well, that’s not true. I’ve never had a friend since moving to Shaded Glade.”

  “Now you do.” Abaddon spun her around and tipped her chin up, pressing a light kiss to her mouth. “I’m glad. Everyone needs people they can rely on, Sorsha.”

  They were on the Ferris wheel before Sorsha knew it, and she leaned into Abaddon’s side as the ride spun upward to let the next couple on.

  “Why do you like this ride?” Sorsha asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Is it cheesy if I say it’s because it’s meant for couples?”

  “Is it true?”

  “No.”

  “Then yes, that would be cheesy.” She grinned at him, gray eyes shining bright. “Now, tell me the truth.”

  “I’ll show you when we reach the top.”

  She gave him a side-eye glance, as if she didn’t trust his motives, and there was a knowing smile on her face, but she agreed and leaned into him once more.

  At the top, he gestured to the open air. “This is why I like the Ferris wheel.”

  “I don’t see anything.” She could see the bright lights of the fair below and those of the city stretching out beyond. After that, darkness enveloped the land, leading out towards mountains. She could only see their outlines thanks to the snow covering them and the light of the moon shining in the sky.

  “Exactly. You see nothing for miles around, and it seems as if you’re alone in the world. It’s probably the closest you can be to flying without actually flying.”

  She looked out over the scenery once more. “It’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” He studied her. “You are too.”

  The smile fell from her face as she watched him.

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who thinks they’re ugly.”

  Sorsha shook her head. “No. It’s just—” She brushed her hair back as a gust of wind whirled past them, sweeping small snowflakes across her face. “This is the first time someone unrelated to me has said it—and meant it.” She frowned. “Preston has said it, but it’s always obvious he means it as an insult.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I know.” She met his gaze. “Kiss me, Abaddon. Please.”

  He cupped her face in his hands and gave her a slow, passionate kiss. It made her heart race and her blood pound even as they spun back toward the world below them.

  The evening ended shortly after they got off the Ferris wheel, and Sorsha felt her heart tug as they parted ways at the cemetery.

  “Will I see you again?” She couldn’t help but ask even though she already dreaded the answer. Her gut told her this would be their last meeting.

  He shook his head, dark eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “And you’re not going to tell me why?” She knew he wouldn’t, but it never hurt to ask anyway.

  Another shake of his head. �
�It’s safer if you don’t know.”

  She huffed in frustration. “You know, I may not get out much, but I do read and watch movies. And every time one of the characters says that, the information is vital and could have saved someone.”

  He laughed. “My information is the ‘the less you know, the better’ kind.”

  “Sure it is.” She grinned at him before she held up her hands in surrender. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

  Abaddon reached up and took her hands in his, drawing them down and holding them to his chest. “You said you trusted me. Do you still trust me?”

  “Of course.” What kind of question was that?

  “Then I need you to trust me when I say this is the safest way.” His gaze met hers, imploring that she accept his words. She already had though.

  “Don’t worry. I understand. Probably more than you know.” It didn’t mean she had to like it though.

  His shoulders relaxed, and she realized he’d worried she would push the issue. Part of her knew she might’ve if she were anything like the others living in Shaded Glade. Since she tried her hardest to be the complete opposite, she knew she wouldn’t.

  Shaded Glade prided themselves on everyone knowing everything about everyone else’s business. They claimed to be a small, tight-knit community, but she understood it was another mechanism to control what they did and didn’t allow.

  Abaddon claimed to be a demon, and she related because the people of Shaded Glade had similar conclusions about her. She’d heard her peers call her Freak for years, but worse were the adults who whispered about her being Devil-Spawn when they thought she couldn’t hear.

  She talked to spirits and sometimes got physical wounds from them if they decided she was in the wrong about something. What else could she be?

  If she’d been a man, they’d have thrown her out of the community, she knew. Because she was a woman, they kept her around as someone who could increase the number of children among them. Still, she doubted they’d mourn her loss once she was gone. Her mother would be alone in that feat.