“This is super gross and incredibly cool and I don’t quite know what to feel,” Roxy mumbled. The dark energy dissipated into the harvester, and he returned to near invisibility once more.
The soul floated for a bit, considerably brighter, before it sank back to the rock. The harvester nodded toward me. Even without facial features, his expression clearly said, See? but I didn’t understand.
Kane shuddered a little, and Roxy elbowed him. “Dude, you rip open throats and drink dark energy through blood. I really don’t think you have the high ground in terms of polite eating habits.”
“At least I don’t pull a blood clot out of my throat when I’m done eating,” he muttered.
Laini coughed. “Harvesters process dark soul energy into magic, with which they imbue objects. I’d heard of it but never seen it before.” She shivered. “A bit creepy but definitely interesting.”
Okay, but what does that have to do with Dorian’s stone? I stared at the harvester, hoping he might turn around and reveal his secrets. Preferably in clear, coherent language.
“You can’t make magic,” Roxy said to Kane, goading him in an obvious attempt to distract herself from her own discomfort. He didn’t seem to mind, giving her a grin and flicking her on the ear.
“At least I’m not a human,” he said, sneering.
The two of them bickered good-naturedly in the back of the boat, their voices not echoing despite the topography of the Gray Ravine. Instead, the sound seemed to sink into the stone like it was a sponge for noise. Dorian, for his part, maintained his composure where he sat at the prow. He didn’t even look back to where Kane, Roxy, and I sat. I wondered if it was because he didn’t want to risk increasing our pain, or if he was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t heard the childish exchange.
The harvester sang softly as he climbed into the boat. He seemed to be in another world—a happier one, I hoped. Settling in the back of the boat, he feigned the motion of a conductor pulling his horn, complete with an eerie approximation of the sound effect for someone who had never been to the Mortal Plane. The boat began to move.
“We’re leaving,” the harvester called up to the mist. “I hope we have fun.”
Chapter Thirty
The harvester stood at the stern with a long wooden oar, singing softly every so often. Some of the languages I recognized from the Mortal Plane, others I didn’t. All the songs were sad.
On the floor beside my team, I watched the harvester’s ghostlike arm move steadily as he paddled, guiding us away from jutting portions of the canyon wall. The same current that had carried us from the Hive to the Gray Ravine pushed the boat forward here. The warm air no longer smelled of blood, instead carrying a bitter, uncomfortably smoky tinge. If regret could be a scent, the Gray Ravine reeked of it.
Now that we were out of the warm water, I shivered in my wet clothes beside Roxy. We had swept water off our slick jackets as much as possible and squeezed water from our shirts and hair, but still we ended up sitting in swiftly cooling puddles. “Waterproof” was more of a dream than a reality, in my opinion. At least after being submerged for hours. The rivulets from each of us pooled in the bottom of the boat, swirling patches of gray and blue against the black wood.
“We should try to rest,” I muttered, massaging the area over my heart. Even with Dorian as far away as possible, the boat was barely ten feet long, so the increase in pain was noticeable. The edges of my vision weren’t quite beginning to fade, but it was hard to take a full breath and my ears were ringing.
Roxy nodded and rubbed her tired face, the water leaving her short hair in disgruntled spikes. Laini curled up next to us with Kane beside her. Dorian sat alone at the front. Roxy and I leaned against one another, hoping to at least doze fitfully. This situation held a hint of familiarity in this place where everything was unknown. We’d spent many hours together—maybe not this close to one another but still together—in choppers and trucks and camps in the wilderness, training, going on missions, surviving.
The boat rocked gently as the harvester pushed us. The vessel’s edges almost touched the sides of the ravine as we went, the river was so narrow. It had to be night, or something like it. We had been up for more than twelve hours. I leaned my head back against the railing. Roxy already snored lightly, her ability to sleep literally anywhere once again making me envious. I tried to use my damp jacket as a pillow against the rough side of the boat.
Mark my words, I will sleep for a week when this business is finally over.
I fell into a daze that wasn’t quite sleep and wasn’t quite full consciousness as I tried to ignore my constant heartburn. Unfortunately, it was important to get used to the pain, since I could expect it for the rest of the journey. The gloom carried a weight here that hadn’t been present even in the mountains or the redwood forest. A chill ran through me as I huddled closer to Roxy, and it had nothing to do with damp clothes. It felt as though the darkness drifted down onto our party, mingled with the water, rose up into the mist…
No, I couldn’t let myself get wrapped up in it. Happy thoughts. I recounted a list of happy things, like running through the Highlands, puppies, Zach sneezing so hard while eating ramen that a noodle came out of his nose, and my days spent with Dorian back in the VAMPS camp. What would Zach say if he were here with me? He was always good at relieving tension, at looking on the bright side of things. There was a time when he practically did stand-up comedy for every family holiday dinner. I had a distinct memory of my parents, me, and Alan howling with laughter at his shenanigans.
I hadn’t thought of Alan in a while. The Immortal Plane had become the only priority in my mind, but now the memory of him fell over me like a black sack over my head. My mind immediately leapt to one pivotal moment on the roof of Chicago HQ. How odd it had been to feel no love for him in that moment, only rage. Or perhaps what was odd was how long I had held onto my love for him when he was clearly unworthy of it. I shook my head, trying to dispel Alan’s cold face from my mind.
He’d really thought he could convince me he was doing something good and right. Idiot. Scorching anger filled me, burning right alongside my heartburn. He’d tricked me, and so many others, for so long. He’d caused so much pain, so much damage, and had the ability to continue hurting us for as long as he lived. I could have beaten him, but even then he would have experienced only a fraction of the suffering he’d caused Arlonne. I wondered if she regretted her decision to let me take my uncle into custody. Part of me certainly did. I could have removed him as a threat right there on the roof. I’d had my gun. No one would have stopped me.
I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.
A gasp tore itself from my throat, yanking me from my thoughts. It was like stepping out of a trance. Mist hung around our boat, thicker than before, and it soaked up the sound of my distress like snow held onto blood. I looked down. My hands were shaking.
“Don’t worry,” the harvester whispered, but it was more to the mist than to me.
Next to me, Roxy had slumped sideways onto the floor of the boat. She twitched in her sleep, shaking and mumbling. Her hands flexed, then balled into fists. I nudged her gently, and she scrambled back to a sitting position. Her mouth twisted into a sneer as she brought her hands up, as though ready to fight. She glared at me and the surrounding mist.
“Oh,” she said, suddenly registering my face in the haze. “I must’ve been dreaming.”
“Are you okay?” I asked. The smell of burnt, lost things grew heavier in the temperate air.
She scowled, breathing hard. “I remembered when my middle sister ratted me out for stealing gum from a convenience store in seventh grade. Oh, I was pissed. I wanted to punch her stupid face in and break her teeth.” She growled in frustration, all her muscles tight with rage.
I studied her. “Did you do that in real life? Hit her, I mean?” Roxy had a tough side, but I knew how she valued her family.
Her surprise pulled her out of her anger. “No�
�� I didn’t hit her at all. I yelled at her and got sent to my room. As punishment, my mom made me stay home from school for a week to babysit while she and my dad went on a cruise.” She pulled a face. “The twins were still in diapers. And my mom didn’t leave us a lot of money for food, so we just ate pasta for a week straight. I missed a few more days that year, and the counselor pulled me in to yell at me about truancy.”
I kept my face neutral, knowing she would react badly if there was even a trace of pity in my eyes in response to her anecdote. Roxy very rarely mentioned her past or her parents, and if that was one of the stories that she was willing to share, who knew how many worse ones were hiding in her memories?
She stared at the mist and the dim souls peeking through the gray rocky sides of the ravine, shivering. “What the hell is this place?”
“Maybe this is what the Hive vampires meant by calling this place haunting,” I guessed. “It seems to cause terrible daydreams.”
The harvester chuckled behind us. The sound sent a shockwave through my nerves. “The darkness inside comes to the surface here,” he said dreamily. “It floats here. Those with too much darkness go mad in the gray. They become overwhelmed by their own memories. It’s exciting but rarely happens. Such a shame. It’s interesting to watch.” The harvester’s tone was wistful at the end.
Laini stirred next to me, her eyes fluttering open. It didn’t look like she’d slept at all.
“That explains why the vampires in the Hive use this route to the city,” she mumbled, yawning. “The Immortals won’t touch this place for fear of their own darkness consuming them.”
That made sense. Even I wanted to leave the Gray Ravine behind as soon as possible, and according to the vampires I knew, my soul was pretty darn light. Yes, I had asked. Of course I had.
“This would have been good to know ahead of time,” Roxy said with an angry huff. She wrapped her arms around herself. Laini gave a sympathetic nod.
“Yes. The darkness speaks loudly here,” Laini muttered ominously. “It can be convincing.”
I wondered what this misty place made her think of, but the pained grimace on her face killed that question before it formed.
“Any advice?” Roxy asked.
“Think happy thoughts,” Kane sang out sarcastically.
I glanced toward Dorian at the front of the boat. If he was experiencing anything, it didn’t show on his face, but I thought he might be holding himself more stiffly than usual. Though, honestly, that could be from the torture of bad thoughts and memories or the constant heartburn.
My Lyra. I had folded the letter carefully and placed it next to his stone in its little leather pouch. I hoped the Immortal Plane water hadn’t ruined it. It needed to dry, but I wanted to bring it out and read it again so I could be filled with happier thoughts, as Kane so bluntly suggested. If I couldn’t talk to him, at least I could linger over his words.
We’d had so many sweet, magical moments together, despite how frenetic our circumstances had been since we first met. I’d held him in that cold river as he raged against the police we’d seen kidnapping and selling the Amish boy, one of many who’d been sold to traffickers for their organs. I’d kissed him in a fit of rage and passion after we first betrayed the Bureau. We’d curled up together in the cold of our hideout in the mountains, sleeping through the night in a warm, intimate bundle.
I closed my eyes as a twinge burned through my chest. The ache rose and dipped like the motion of the rocking boat. I could visualize the pain on his face, see his eyes meet mine as though he stood right in front of me. My dream of not-Dorian rose up like a phantom in my mind. I’d watched him get destroyed in that terrible dream, not by magic, but my own touch…
I loathed this curse.
I hated what it did to Dorian. His insistence on starving himself to try to “fix” the pain. Going hungry didn’t fix anything—it only put us all in danger.
A dark voice rose up inside me, bitter and hateful.
The curse isn’t your real problem. It’s just the excuse you keep blaming. You’re just not right for him. Stop kidding yourself that you are.
My breath caught. The venomous words shook me. What if it was us? We were all push and no pull, two natural leaders constantly clashing over the right course of action. I didn’t want to have to fight every day we were together. My stormy mood pressed down on all sides. I took a ragged breath, the humidity hot against my clammy cheeks, telling myself the words were just the worst version of reality being shoved to the forefront. We’d just made progress in our relationship, good progress. These were just my unfounded fears.
Suddenly, Laini jolted up in the boat. It rocked from side to side, water splashing up over the boards. She clawed at her face, screaming. My heart slammed against my ribs as she threw herself to the floor.
“Lanzon!” She curled up around her knees in the center of the boat, snarling and weeping. Every one of my nerves twisted as I leaned toward her. I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stop her from reliving the nightmare of her husband’s death. The strength of her reaction was concerning yet not surprising. Laini was sweet and gentle, but she was still a vampire that fed on darkness. Was it just Lanzon that was haunting her?
Seeing Laini’s heart-shaped face contorted in agony stirred everyone from their thoughts. Roxy hovered next to me, helpless to do anything. We had officially gone into abnormal territory, a place not meant for humans. Dorian watched from the front of the boat, unable to move any closer to help. My heartburn surged powerfully. His pained, grieving gaze met mine before he sat down once again, eyes not leaving Laini.
She called Lanzon’s name a few more times, her voice filled with such sorrow and despair I found myself weeping in response. When her wails became animalistic cries of unbridled pain, I tried to crouch down to hold her, but she roared and lashed out.
Kane lifted a hand, indicating for me to wait. When Laini broke down into sobs, he gently took hold of her arm in a softer manner than I’d ever seen from him before. He propped her up, holding her against him before she could slump back to the ground.
“You’re safe,” he whispered gruffly. “Don’t let the memories get hold of you.”
I crouched down next to her, using the cuff of my shirt to dab at a scrape on her cheekbone that leaked shimmering blood. She kept her hands to herself this time. Roxy went to her other side, helping Kane prop her up.
Laini’s bottom lip quivered, and she wiped her dull eyes roughly.
“Let it out. It’s okay to be sad,” Roxy said gently.
I had to marvel at Kane and Roxy. They wouldn’t have been my first choice for emotional comfort, but they were proving themselves more than capable.
Laini let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. “I’m not sad,” she snapped at Roxy, her fury thickening her voice. “I just… hate the hunters so much. I want to rip them apart until there is nothing left but their blood staining the ground.” Her gaze turned inward, and she sat with the reverberations of her uncharacteristically vicious words, stiff and silent, in the circle of Kane’s arms.
I had no idea what to say to her. Looking at her broke something inside me. Of all people, Laini usually appeared the most collected, the most forgiving, the most compassionate.
“I’d never fully realized how angry I am,” she said, voice flat and hard. “How much hate for the Immortals is hidden inside me. I chose to come back to the Immortal Plane partially because I wanted to face and accept Lanzon’s death. I thought I was ready for that. But I still have so far to go…” Silent tears fell as her anger melted into grief once again.
Kane smirked with dark amusement. “Don’t worry. This is just what it feels like to be a normal vampire these days, Laini.”
Laini let out a hollow chuckle. I squeezed her hand gently.
“You don’t have to rush through grief, Laini, just because you feel you should.” Dorian’s voice drifted to us from the prow of the boat, dampened by the thick mist. “You loved him as fi
ercely and deeply as I did, and despite how long it’s been, neither of us has had the chance to mourn.”
The pain in his voice as he kept speaking wasn’t from the heartburn.
“I know you look at me sometimes and see the ghost of him in my face for a moment, and I’m sorry for that.” His breath hitched, and he paused. “I’m sorry I didn’t save him.”
The gloom and the mist turned him into a wraith at the other end of the boat. My heart broke for them both. It broke for all the vampires. Life had been about survival for the vampires since the moment Vanim fell. None of them had truly had the time to mourn their dead, their home, their lives.
“You saved me.” Laini’s voice was soft and distant. “And we’re alive. That’s all he could have wished for both of us. And if I get to see a hint of him in you sometimes, then I will not complain.”
As she tipped her head back against Kane’s shoulder, light from the souls soaked through a gap in the mist and illuminated her face slightly. Something about her profile struck me. She reminded me of the woman in my dream with Dorian. I studied her red-rimmed eyes as the heartburn in my chest ebbed.
In the dream, I’d known it wasn’t truly Dorian, but now scraps of questions pulled together in my head.
I know you look at me sometimes and see the ghost of him in my face.
And if I get to see a hint of him in you sometimes, then I will not complain.
The dark hair, the different eyes, the similar build but not quite the same. Was I dreaming of Lanzon?
I couldn’t be sure, since I had no real idea what he looked like. But if I was dreaming of him… how?
Chapter Thirty-One
Darklight 3: Darkworld Page 31