The Hidden

by Jessica Verday

  He picked it up, but instead of handing it to me, he reached over the tub and dunked it into the water. After ringing out the excess water, he dabbed some soap onto it and ran it slowly over my outstretched arm.

  Paying careful attention to each finger, he washed my knuckles, my thumb, my palm. Then he ran the cloth all the way up my arm again.

  “I have two,” I said.

  I brought my other hand out of the water, and he lathered that arm too. Laying the washcloth down, he cupped some water in between his hands and poured it over my arms to rinse off the remaining bubbles. Then he picked up the washcloth again and started on my shoulders.

  Slowly he ran it down the front of my neck and then moved to my back. I gathered all of my hair and piled it high on top of my head. He dipped and swirled the cloth across my shoulder blades as I leaned forward and pulled my legs up close.

  His hand moved to the front. Traveled down, and I leaned back, giving him even greater access. My knee jutted out of the water, and he followed my thigh up until he crested my kneecap.

  Caspian’s face was so close that all I had to do was turn my head to kiss him. But I held out. Resisted. I didn’t want to distract him from his task …

  … and then I reached for him.

  Using both hands, I pulled his shirt close to me, heedless of the water stains I was leaving behind. I offered my lips as his bounty. The room grew hotter, steam from the water drifted up in lazy curls, and I wanted to crawl inside of him. To wrap him around me and never let go. To fuse with his skin.

  I must have pulled his shirt a little too hard, because the next thing I knew, he was losing his balance and falling into the water with me.

  Water splashed up, hitting both of us in the face, and I choked on my laughter. He laughed too, hair dripping as the water ran down in a steady stream.

  Our laughter didn’t last for long, though, when I noticed that his hands, which had previously been using the outside of the tub for balance, were now using my thighs for balance.

  He noticed too.

  “There really isn’t enough room for two people in this tub,” he said.

  “Yeah, I think I’m done with my bath now. Can you hand me a towel?”

  Caspian pulled himself out of the water, then reached for one of the purple towels. Spreading it as wide as it would go, he held it out in front of me. I stepped out of the tub. And against him.

  He blindly reached a hand for the robe I’d discarded and held it up to me. “Do you want …” His words died. He tried again. “Maybe this too?”

  I tucked the ends of the towel against myself. “I don’t need that.”

  Caspian stepped back to look at me. “I know I probably shouldn’t say this, but you look adorable.”

  It was the best thing he could have said. The most perfect thing he could have said, because with my hair wet and straggly, the damp towel wrapped around me, and all of my beautiful makeup washed off, I was feeling anything but adorable.

  I reached up and undid the towel, letting it drop at our feet.

  And then … well … I kind of jumped on him.

  He reached for me. Held me. And I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist. All I could think about was how much I wanted him again.

  Love … Mine … was running through my head, over and over again in a blurry haze.

  He leaned back against the sink, and I pushed myself into him. Closer. Deeper. He held me in place with one arm and used his hand to run it up my leg. He skimmed the back of my knee, and I wanted to scream, Yes, as he drove me to a fevered pitch. His fingers whispered down my back, caressed my spine, and I arched like a cat in the warm sun, trying to stifle a moan.

  I think I did scream then.

  We were nothing but touch, and taste, and feel. The towel was beneath us. The floor rushed up to meet us, and afterward I found myself thinking that I’d never known how comfortable tile could really be.

  Caspian carried me into the bedroom, and I rested my head on his chest. I could barely think. Could barely move. Could barely keep my eyes open.

  The towel was wrapped around me again. I snuggled deeper into it, and deeper into him. My eyelids were heavy but I didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to waste a single second of our precious time together.

  Twining our fingers together, I moved my head so that I could hear his heartbeat. I’d only get this one chance. “Stay with me,” he whispered. “Stay awake for me.”

  But I was already drifting away.

  Sunlight was streaming in through the windows when I woke up again. I propped myself up and just looked at Caspian, lying beside me. He stretched and turned to face me, green eyes glinting in the sun.

  I brushed some hair off his face and whispered, “Take him and cut him out in little stars, / And he will make the face of heaven so fine / That all the world will be in love with night / And pay no worship to the garish sun.”

  He touched my hand and turned it to his lips, kissing my palm. “What’s that?”

  “Just something I found written on a piece of paper. Shakespeare.”

  “Mmmmm.” He stretched lazily, and I touched the tattoo on his arm.

  “I talked to you, you know,” I mused, almost to myself. “Even though you couldn’t hear me, I spoke to you.”

  “I heard every word,” he said. “Every whisper, every plea. Every heartfelt emotion you poured out to me … I heard them all. And I held them close.”

  I dragged one finger down his bare chest. “You know, I’ve wanted to touch the tattoo on your back ever since you first showed it to me, and now I get the chance.” He rolled, and the dark outline was suddenly in front of me. His shoulder blades flexed as he positioned his head on his arms.

  I let my finger glide, following the smooth black line as it angled in and repeated itself. His skin was warm—something I’d wondered about when I’d thought about what this day would be like.

  “Is it strange?” I asked.

  “Is what strange?”

  “Living. Being real. Just for one day.” Now both of my hands glided across his skin.

  “For the first two years, it was strange. Really strange. This year? I don’t have any complaints.”

  “What are we going to do?” I leaned over him and breathed the words onto his skin, coaxed the fine muscles to ripple to life. “How are we ever going to go back to not being able to touch after this?”

  He sighed deeply, but didn’t answer.

  We spent the rest of the day being completely lazy. We headed downstairs and curled up on the couch to watch movies, just enjoying the chance to lie wrapped up in blankets and wrapped up in each other. I made us popcorn and brownies. And for dinner it was just simple spaghetti.

  Caspian told me it was the best spaghetti he’d ever had.

  As night fell and the shadows came cruelly chasing away the rest of the daylight, a dark cloud settled on me. Our time was slipping away. Already it was eight o’clock. Only four more hours to go. Four more hours left to fit in a year’s worth of touching.

  It wasn’t nearly enough time.

  Eventually we got dressed. Him in a pair of jeans and an old T-shirt that had once been Dad’s, and me in jeans and a dark blue sweater. I grabbed a large flannel blanket and made us each a steaming mug of hot chocolate, and then we went to the front porch. The swing was out there, and so were the stars.

  We cuddled together in the dark, safe in our big, comfy blanket. One of his hands rested securely on my hip, and one of mine rested safely against his heart. He hummed a soft lullaby as I looked up into the night sky and made wish after wish after silent wish.

  The hour was fading. And my heart started to hurt.

  “Astrid,” he said suddenly, shifting his body away from mine. “I have something for you.” He reached into his jeans pocket. I could tell by the change in his body language that he was nervous.

  I sat up. “What is it?”

  He held out his hand, opening his fingers slowly, and there sat a r
ing.

  The stone was oval-shaped, a color somewhere between ruby red and pink grapefruit. Delicate filigreed scrolls of dark metal flared out around it, holding the jewel in place. Eight tiny matching jewels dotted the edges. Even in the dim light, it sparkled.

  “It was my grandmother’s,” he said softly. “My dad gave it to me a long time ago, and I kept it safe in the treasure box that we found back at my old house. I can’t exactly ask you to marry me, as much as I want to, since I spend most of my time hidden from the rest of the world.” I opened my mouth to interrupt, but he shook his head. “Just let me finish.”

  I nodded, and he continued. “But I want you to have it as a promise of my forever. Whatever that is. Whatever I can give you. You have all of it. All of me.”

  I held out a shaky left hand, and he slipped the ring onto my hand. It fit perfectly.

  I reached out to cup his face, the ring solid on my finger. Like it had always been there. “I promise you forever too,” I vowed. “Whatever that is. Whatever I can give you. You have all of it. All of me.”

  “Astrid,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “Astrid …”

  I closed mine too, and our lips met, clung. Frantic words of love and eternity passed between us. Utterances of sacred vows that meant more than anything we’d ever said before. And when I started to taste salt, I knew where it came from.

  I didn’t bother to wipe the tears off my face.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  THE DAY AFTER

  The hour was as dismal as himself.

  —“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

  My feet were cold, and I wondered why the blankets weren’t covering them up all the way. I tried to dig my toes further into the bedsheets, but felt only a hard surface beneath me. Eyes opening, I looked around.

  I was outside, on the porch swing. A flannel blanket was sliding off me.

  Caspian sat on the front steps, staring out into the yard. He must have heard me moving, because he turned around. “Morning, beautiful.”

  “Morning.” I wrapped the blanket more securely around my shoulders and walked down to sit next to him. “Sorry I fell asleep.”

  His smile was sad. “It’s okay.”

  Without even thinking, I leaned my head against him. Or at least tried to.

  The sensation of falling over hit me, and I jerked upright. Our time was over. It was November second. He couldn’t touch me anymore.

  I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide the tears, so I quickly stood up. “I’m going inside. I need to …”

  But I couldn’t finish. I raced for the safety of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the toilet lid, weeping until my heart couldn’t break anymore and I had no tears left to cry.

  When I was done, I still didn’t feel any better. All I wanted was to be able to talk to someone. Someone who had been through this. Someone who knew exactly what I was feeling. Katy. Go talk to Katy.

  Katy was the perfect person to talk to! She had been in my situation. Exactly.

  Stumbling to my feet, I barely managed to remember to run upstairs and get dressed. Caspian was sitting at the window seat, looking out the window. He must have come up while I was in the bathroom.

  “I’m going to take a walk,” I said.

  But he didn’t respond.

  I threw on a different pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Grabbing my jacket, I went over to him. “Hey,” I said softly. “Are you ignoring me?”

  He looked up at me, eyes faraway. “What? No. Sorry. I’m just distracted. Thinking.”

  I wanted to touch his hand. His face. Anything. Instead I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets. “I won’t be gone long,” I told him.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To see Katy.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  I answered carefully, trying to avoid explaining why I wanted to talk to her. “That’s okay. I think, after yesterday, I just need … I think I just need some time. To deal with this whole not-being-able-to-touch thing again.”

  I softened my words with a smile, and he smiled back.

  “Okay,” he said. “Take your phone and be careful. I’ll be here.”

  I gave him a smile again, but I walked out of the bedroom quietly, my head full of questions that didn’t have easy answers.

  I made my way through the woods that would lead me to Nikolas and Katy’s house, and when I got there, Nikolas was working out in the yard again. He saw me approaching and waved excitedly.

  “Hi, Nikolas!” I said.

  The front door was open, and he called for Katy to join us. She came out with knitting needles in hand. “Abbey!” she said. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  I ran to her and wrapped her in a hug. She smelled faintly of lavender and tea. “I’m happy to see you, too,” I said. “How are you?”

  “We are well. And you?”

  “Good. I was hoping we could have some tea and catch up on things.”

  “Absolutely.” She gave Nikolas a knowing look.

  He just smiled. “I will go back to my task, then,” he said. “And leave you ladies to yours.”

  He turned away from us, and Katy directed me inside. I sat down as she put a kettle of water on to boil over the fire. The room was warm and cozy, and I shrugged out of my coat.

  “How are things with Caspian?” she asked, taking the seat beside me.

  “November first was the anniversary of his death day,” I said, trying not to blush. “We got to spend it together.” She nodded, but didn’t say anything. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I had some questions for you, if you don’t mind. You’re the only one I know who was like me.”

  “I’ll do my best,” she said. “What do you wish to know?”

  “How did you know you were ready to be with Nikolas forever? Were you scared? Worried? Did you ever doubt yourself?”

  Katy folded her hands on the table. “My situation was different, Abbey. I was sick. I knew that I had a limited amount of time left. It was not a difficult choice for me.” She looked me directly in the eye. “You are having a difficult time, though, yes?”

  “Yes. But I know it’s going to be soon for me, too. Caspian has been … Well, he’s been losing his ability to touch things. And he falls into this deep sleep. A dark place that he goes to. Where he can’t wake up. Sometimes it’s hours, even days, before he comes back to me.”

  “And you are worried about your future together?” Katy guessed.

  I leaned forward. “What if I complete him and eventually we become unhappy?” I told her about Abbey’s Hollow and how Mom had paid the rent for my first year. “What if I start to resent the fact that I’ll never have the opportunity to own my own business? Or make perfumes again? What if I start to hold it against him that I’m stuck here? Wherever here will be.”

  The teakettle whistled, and she got up to prepare the tea. She returned with two cups, then she went back for the milk and honey. I doctored mine up while I waited for her to sit down again. Eventually she said, “Who has told you that you will never get the chance to make perfumes again?”

  “I’ll be dead. How am I going to get supplies and stuff?”

  She gestured around the cottage, to the bundles of dried flowers decorating the walls. “Supplies are all around you. Oils come from plants, do they not?”

  “Well, yeah, but …” I took a sip of my tea and thought about it. I did have my plant distiller. As long as I had access to that, and fresh flowers or herbs, I could make my own essential oils. “Actually, I guess I could still make my perfumes. If everything works out right.”

  She nodded, a wise smile on her face. “You do not have to give up everything you love for the one you love.”

  “And how can I be sure of that?” I said desperately.

  “You must find that within your own heart,” she replied.

  I leaned back in my chair, playing with the handle of the delicate teacup. “I know that I love Caspian,” I said. “I know that withou
t a doubt. But I also love my friends. My family. My future plans for my shop. Why am I going to be forced to choose between them? Why me?”

  “Why are children taken before their parents? Why does disease and poverty fill the world?” she said. “It’s just the way it is. Some things we must accept.”

  “Yes, but diseases can be cured. Poverty ended. Those things can be changed with enough man power and enough money.”

  “But you cannot cure death,” she said quietly.

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “That’s the one thing there’s no getting out of.”

  As I finished my tea, I didn’t want the conversation with Katy to end on such a heavy note, so we switched to talking about knitting and patterns and string. When I realized how long I’d been sitting there, I told her I needed to go. I needed to get back to Caspian.

  Saying my good-byes was bittersweet. I didn’t know when I’d have a chance to see her again, so I just hugged her and promised that we’d get together soon.

  I said good-bye to Nikolas when I got outside, but he offered to walk me to the edge of the woods.

  “Have you had any more run-ins with Vincent?” he asked as we walked.

  I was partially turned away from him, and I turned to face him fully. “No. I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t know if he’s gone, or what. I like to think he is, but I’m not really sure. Why?”

  “Have you talked with the other Revenants?” He asked the question casually, but it felt like there was more behind it.

  “Yeah. But why? About what? Uri told me more about their background, and what they really are, but I get the sense that they aren’t telling me everything.”

  “You know that the Revenants are needed to help a Shade and his other half be completed,” he said slowly. “Have you ever thought about which ones will help you cross over?”

  “Is Vincent …” Horror filled me, and I felt sick. “Is Vincent one of my Revenants?” I asked. “Is he supposed to be the one who helps take me?”

  “I cannot be sure, but I have my suspicions,” Nikolas said.