by Iris RIvers
He wasn’t here for a particular reason but, like everyone else, had simply found himself in the confines of Target’s red walls and fluorescent lights out of utter boredom—and spending money was his favorite pastime.
A sharp sensation spread throughout his chest as he reached for a book resting on the bottom shelf, reminding him of what he bore. Painkillers, he thought, moving out of the aisle. I should get painkillers.
As he passed other aisles—make-up, candles, light bulbs, food—he noticed something. A pale pink ribbon resting on a hook, tied to a piece of cardboard with plastic.
Kai walked over to it, pulling it from the hook. The silk was soft between his dry fingers, reminding him of the silk that had been in Lara’s dark hair. He shuddered in a breath as he folded it between his hand, walking over to the self-checkout lane.
The pink ribbon was the only thing he held as he left Target, and he didn’t understand why.
BOOZE GREETED KAI AS he walked into his apartment, the smell strong and familiar. He took a gulp straight from the bottle, ignoring the burn against his dry throat. The ribbon rested on his chest as he drank—drank until his mind was clouded and his fingers were numb.
He wasn’t sure why he was drinking in the first place. To forget? About her?
About Lara?
He laughed into the last sip of his bottle, head falling back onto his couch. He took the ribbon from his chest, breaking it from its packaging, and twirled it around his finger. It was soft, like Lara’s skin. Pink, like Lara’s bare lips. He brought the ribbon closer to his face, close enough to see each thread that laced its surface. The strands were thin, like the midnight color of Lara’s hair.
Kai ran his thumb over the material, as if he could feel Lara herself trapped inside its silk. He was sure that if he turned it over, Lara’s name would be written on the other side, in ink so dark it would taint his skin if he touched it.
Delirious, Kai turned it over, disappointed to see a blank slate.
A small, drunken part of him wondered if Lara was thinking of him now, while he thought of her. If she imagined his lips as often as he imagined hers—covering his mouth and tracing his skin.
He hoped she did. These thoughts were too painful to bear—raw and intoxicating, like the tang of blood as it stained a weapon—and he wanted her to feel it, that pain.
Kai wanted Lara to know how it felt, wanting her. Like sprinting across knives and jumping off a cliff’s edge; like dancing with the devil and sneaking out at midnight.
Lara, as wicked as she was, was the devil. And he’d danced with her, multiple times. He’d touched her skin, gripped her waist and held her close—things one would never do with the ruler of hell; things one would fear doing with someone as evil as her. But a sick part of him still enjoyed it.
And that was what scared him the most.
That same fear—the fear of what he wanted; the one engraved into his bones—was what brought him back to her. Always.
The world turned as Kai stood from the couch, placing the glass bottle he’d been drinking from for the past hour onto a small table.
He wasn’t sure why he’d stood, but, with the ribbon still in his hand, he headed toward the door and pulled it open, leaving his apartment to its silence.
His feet seemed to move on their own, dragging him through the streets of his city, unceasing until he stood before a tall apartment building made of shining glass and graying stone. Kai laughed. It was Lara’s building—this was where she lived.
He pushed through the revolving door, ignoring the looks he received from the receptionist, and headed straight for the stairs. It wasn’t a good idea, taking the stairs—Kai barely made it to the fourth step before he stumbled backward, laughing once more as he hit the wall.
“Lara,” he said to no one. “Come get me.”
She didn’t come to get him. Kai stood, groaning at the ache in his bones from the fall, and started up the stairs for the second time. He made it without falling this time, smiling to himself at the slight victory.
Lara’s door seemed impossibly tall. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was fifty feet tall—larger than the hall itself. Kai knocked slowly, dangling the ribbon from his fingers. Shuffling came from inside as someone moved to the door, mumbling to themselves.
A boy answered Lara’s door, shirtless and glistening with sweat. Kai nearly vomited at the sight of drops of it sliding from his curled chest hair. It was the same boy he’d seen Lara with at the coffee shop—the same boy she’d kissed over their table. Neither said anything, the moment between them silencing into something uncomfortable.
The shirtless man leaned against the door, his muscles bulging from the movement. “Can I help you?”
“Does Lara have a doorman now?” Kai asked.
The guy laughed, looking Kai up and down. “Are you looking for Lara? We’re kind of busy.”
“Is she shaving your chest hair?”
The shirtless man moved from the door, eyes suddenly angry. “Look, man—”
Lara walked into the room, wearing nothing but a large T-shirt. Kai watched her legs as she moved over to the door. “Who is it?” she asked, and then she saw—saw Kai, standing in the door frame, holding a ribbon like the one she always wore. “What are you doing here?” she asked angrily.
What am I doing here? “Looking for you,” he answered.
Lara narrowed her eyes. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” he said weakly.
The shirtless man moved beside Lara, pressing his hand to her shoulder, pushing her back. Kai watched the movement with venom in his eyes. “Who is this?” Kai asked.
“Alexander,” the man answered himself. Kai hated that. He was talking to Lara—not to him.
Alexander took in the redness of Kai’s eyes, his disheveled appearance and messy clothes. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re obviously drunk.” He looked at Lara, obviously wary of Kai’s stance. “Maybe you should go back to your room, baby.” Baby. Bile rose from his stomach.
Lara moved away from his touch. “Don’t ever say something like that again,” she hissed. “This is my apartment. I’m the one who invited you here.”
Alexander dropped his hands.
“Lovers’ quarrel?” Kai whistled, amused at Alexander’s audacity.
Lara’s eyes snapped to him. “You need to leave.”
Kai stared at her, mind whirling. He slowly pushed the ribbon he’d bought into the pocket of his slacks and said, “Gladly.”
He heard shouts as he left, running down the stairs anxiously.
Kai wondered if Lara was kicking Alexander out, as she had done to him, and then began to wonder why he cared.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“We are linked by blood, and blood is memory without language.” ––Joyce Carol Oates
Lowri Byrne was utterly oblivious.
The fact was evident as Clarke scrolled through her Instagram, her photos and captions lined with clues. She’d taken a selfie with another girl a few months ago but hadn’t tagged her. Clarke assumed she was in Lithe.
Lara’s socials he found by going through Lowri’s extensive following list. On all of them, Lara wasn’t following back.
Clarke didn’t know what he was looking for—nothing, really, for he had all that he needed for his plan—but creeping through their public lives, without them knowing, was incredibly fun. Maybe that made him insane, but he didn’t mind.
By the looks of Lara’s Instagram, being insane seemed fun.
Clarke was on the very first photo of Lara’s feed when a call interrupted his viewing, vibrating in his hand.
Mom.
His hand shook with anger. Something inside of him compelled him to answer her call—unlike the many times before he’d quickly pressed the big red decline button.
Clarke said nothing when he answered, only breathed into the speaker.
“Hello?” said his mother, her voice an anxious whisper. “Clarke?”
“Hello,” he
greeted calmly.
“I haven’t spoken to you in so long—”
“You know why you haven’t,” he forced out, clenching his phone. “And it isn’t because of me.”
“Clarke,” she pleaded, “you know I had nothing to do with it. How can I convince you? Help me fix this.” She sounded incredibly tired, like she hadn’t slept in days, like her skin was wrinkling by the hour and her hair was falling from her skull with each step.
“Nothing,” said Clarke. “You can do nothing.”
“Please—”
“It’s too late. I’m nearly finished.”
“With what?” she whispered.
And then he hung up.
October 2017
THE BELL TOWER WAS filled with flickering candles, their wax dripping from the top like scalding tears of blood. It was the night of Evelyn’s ascension to leadership, and she was enlivened.
Lowri was sitting in the crowd of girls before Evelyn’s place at the front, her arm covered with an off-white bandage. Evelyn wondered if she’d gone to the hospital. She hadn’t cut her deep, just enough to set her back, but Lowri was incredibly dramatic. Kayla was also there but seemed relieved to be sitting back without the responsibilities of a Lithe leader. She was a senior, graduating this school year, so Evelyn supposed she truly didn’t care enough to be jealous.
“So,” Bella announced, “Evelyn has won the competition.” The girls clapped in response. “That means she is now the next leader of Lithe, and she will be replacing Juli, your current leader.” Juli bowed sarcastically.
Ayesha slipped a shining dagger from her chair, raising it up into the darkness of the bell tower. “One’s position in Lithe is temporary—until they complete the blood oath. As a leader, the significance behind this pact goes beyond what I can describe,” she said, walking closer to Evelyn’s beaming face. “Everyone here has completed the oath, except for you.”
“Put your hand out, Evelyn,” Bella ordered. Evelyn complied.
“Juli—since she is the one resigning from Lithe, giving you her place—will be the one completing the oath,” said Ayesha, handing the blade over to Juli, “as the Enchiridion orders.”
Juli smiled deviously as the cold blade was placed into her palms, the candlelight reflecting across its metal. Evelyn’s hand still remained out, ready to be cut. Bella and Ayesha stepped back into the shadows once the blade met Evelyn’s skin. Evelyn sucked in a shocked breath at the coldness of the weapon.
“Once the blood slips from your hand,” said Juli, “you are committed to Lithe for eternity.” The words rang in Evelyn’s ears. “When you leave Juilliard, Lithe will still remain at the top of your priorities. Nothing comes before your sisters.”
Evelyn nodded, accepting her fate.
“We expect you to uphold your duties as leader and descendant of our founders—Anabelle Hall, Elizabeth Brown, and Lillian Hart. You know that I was given the title of Elizabeth’s descendant, so, naturally, Evelyn, you will become her next descendant. When one is crowned leader of Lithe, they take the last name of the leader they belong to.”
Evelyn nodded. “I’m ready.”
Juli pushed the blade into Evelyn’s skin.
Evelyn watched her pressured skin with an odd sort of fascination; she wondered what it would take to pull blood from her pale blue veins.
“Evelyn Wade,” Juli said, “as I cover the blade in your blood—now the blood you share with Elizabeth Brown—repeat after me.” She pressed the blade slightly harder. “In blood,” Juli said, now drawing small red drops from Evelyn’s palm, “and in misery.” Scarlet poured from Evelyn’s skin as the blade pushed deep into her hand.
“In blood,” she repeated, whispering into the ashen night, “and in misery.”
The room seemed to still. A breeze floated into the bell tower, dimming the fire of the flickering candles. The hairs on Evelyn’s arm rose. She looked over to Lowri, her hair the same color as Evelyn’s blood.
“From this day forward, Evelyn Wade is no longer,” Bella announced, stepping out of the shadows. “Let us celebrate the continuation of Elizabeth’s legacy, and the birth of our newest leader.”
Bella took Evelyn’s bleeding hand in hers, squeezing it with her own palm. “Evelyn Brown—welcome to Lithe.”
January 2020
KAI COULDN’T HANDLE another night spent awake, standing beside an open window, watching as his breath left his mouth and thinking of things he shouldn’t be thinking of—things he’d never planned on thinking of.
It was raining when he left his apartment, the cold droplets sticking to his skin like a dampened coat—sticky and uncomfortable. But the rain didn’t bother him. If anything, it was like a friend, soft and welcoming, embracing its pains the same way Kai did his own.
It didn’t stop when Kai reached his destination. The building before him stood in arrogance, gloating in a pride it didn’t deserve. Against the night sky, the police station seemed entirely ominous. He couldn’t believe he was here, at the one place he had sworn to avoid at the tender age of six.
Perhaps that was what stopped him from entering. Or perhaps it was the sky itself holding him, using its force to root him to the concrete. Kai looked up to the sky, squinting against the rain. It continued to fall across his face, coating his lashes and wetting his lips. The darkness was almost entirely filled with black clouds, save for a small empty area. A few stars shone in the space, forming an incomprehensible shape.
A dagger? Kai wondered. Or a heart?
It could have been either, for Kai could no longer differentiate between the two.
Flashing cars drove through the street as Kai looked back down to the ground, feeling water slide from his chin.
He heard her before he saw her.
Her steps moved like mud across the sidewalk, shadowed over by the sound of thunder roaring across the angry sky. Kai felt that, if he tried hard enough, he’d be able to hear the sound of her heart too.
“Lara,” he whispered, staring at the way her hair clung to her neck. She looked toward him, shivering against the cold, wearing nothing but a thin shirt and baggy jeans rolled at the ankles.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, but she already knew—they both knew.
He was here to turn her in.
The question rattled his mind, digging deep into the soles of his boots. He had asked her the same thing many times before, because, for a reason doomed to destroy him, she was always there, following him like a shadow, hiding from the light, just as he was.
Despite the distance between them, they felt impossibly close—like their souls had intertwined and their hearts had mended. Kai could hear her breathing just as Lara could hear Kai’s and, in the pouring rain, the sound was painful.
Neither wanted a reminder of the other’s aliveness—not after what had happened; not after what they had done.
Kai ached to touch her, to feel her smooth skin against the roughness of his palms. He wanted to feel her as she gasped into his mouth but also as she bled out beneath his grip.
“You wouldn’t,” Lara said, her voice barely a whisper.
They were suddenly standing just a foot from each other, and neither knew who had moved first. “Wouldn’t I?” Kai asked.
When Lara said nothing, her clothes soaked from the rain, Kai reached for her arm and dragged her into the alley just beside them, pushing her back into the brick of a darkened wall.
Just as it had been that night. The night of joints and smoke and car horns and torn skin.
It was when he leaned forward, lips barely touching her own, hands on her slim waist, that he felt it.
The dagger that rested just above her waist. It was sharp against his fingertips, painful if he pushed hard enough. And he did, just to test its ability. He felt blood drip from his pointer finger; he watched it mix with the rain on Lara’s white shirt.
Kai pulled away, his hand instinctively flying to his scarred chest. A sharp pain flared throughout his skin—a reminder of
what she’d done.
“Have you come here to kill me?” Kai asked, wiping his bleeding fingers across his shirt.
Lara looked dazed as she pulled the dagger from underneath her shirt, gazing as if she’d forgotten it had been resting in the waist of her pants.
She said nothing, only twisted the metal in her hand, her reflection a blur on its blade. A single raindrop fell onto its tip, splitting in two as it dragged down to the handle.
“Do it,” Kai said, suddenly angry. Colors flashed beneath his lids as he blinked, hot and livid and—
Red. Vivid red. Miserable red.
Kai quickly pushed up against her once more, this time leading the dagger she held to his open throat. Lara looked down to the point of her dagger as it pushed lightly into his skin, irritating his flesh. “You wouldn’t,” he dared. “You’re nothing but a coward—”
Lara pushed the blade into his skin; her force was light but still enough to draw blood. Kai winced against the burn. The pain was sudden and searing and angry, but mostly it was invigorating—it was what made him feel alive.
“Wouldn’t I?” Lara whispered in return, repeating Kai’s earlier words. Her eyes flashed torrid, and Kai wondered if she were seeing the same color that coated his vision.
“Push it deeper,” said Kai. “Finish the job. Do what you were planning to do on stage.”
Lara shuddered against the cold.
“Kill me!” he yelled, his breath hot and fogged.
Lara pushed the dagger harder into Kai’s throat, coaxing blood from beneath his skin. Her eyes followed the burning drops to where they fell to the ground.
Lightning lit up the sky as Lara shoved him back, the dagger falling to the wet concrete with a clang. Water fell from her eyes, but Kai couldn’t tell if it was tears or simply the rain that fell from the moving sky.
Kai brought a finger to his neck, savoring the blood—the pain. He looked up slowly, his hand covered in it, his blood, and met Lara’s raging gaze. He took a step closer, eyes looking down at her lips, and lifted his thumb to her Cupid’s bow, dragging his blood across her trembling skin. Look how you wear my blood, he thought. Wicked girl.