Darkness Fair (The Dark Cycle Book 2)

by Marks, Rachel A.

  Connor doesn’t wait for the rest, he just bolts around the bannister, past me, and takes the stairs two at a time. I follow, coming up behind him as he crashes into Kara’s room.

  Aidan’s sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, near Kara’s feet, head in his hands. He looks up when Connor enters in a rush.

  I stumble and have to grab the doorway to steady myself. The emotions roiling around Aidan are seething and desperate. Almost violent. I whisper his name under my breath in my shock. He was so raw and lost last night, after whatever happened at the club. And now the tension in him feels like a band ready to snap and destroy the whole world.

  “What happened?” Connor asks.

  Aidan just shakes his head.

  “She’ll wake up,” Connor says, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as Aidan. “She did last time.”

  Aidan rests his head in his hands again. Beside the bed there’s a stack of books and rolls of paper that look like ancient scrolls from a movie.

  There’s a chair off to the side. Connor slides it closer to the bed and sits in it. I can only stand in the doorway, holding on to the wall. My insides stir with a million emotions as I watch Aidan, his hunched shoulders, his fingers gripping his hair.

  He lifts his gaze to look at Kara, his misery stinging my skin. “I’m hurting her. Somehow. Because of my powers.” His voice is shaking. “We get close and it somehow changes her, makes her sick.”

  Oh my God, that’s just . . . horrifying. “And you didn’t know?” I ask.

  “It happened once before,” Connor says.

  “But it didn’t seem linked to anything,” Aidan says, like he’s trying to find a way to lighten the weight of it all.

  “You’d never hurt her on purpose,” I say.

  He looks up at me. “But I did. I hurt her.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” I move into the room and stand beside the bed. “There’s a way to fix this and we’ll figure it out.”

  I can barely believe I’m saying it. I know that he should’ve been with me, that he should’ve been mine, and that’s what I wanted more than anything else. But it’s not what I want now. Now, more than anything, I want Aidan to be complete and whole. I want him to keep feeling the love he has for Kara, the love I can sense so big in the room it hurts. Because it’s pure and good and right. And I’m not about to be the bitch who ruins it.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Aidan

  I sit in a chair at Kara’s bedside and watch for signs of her waking as I pore over several stacks of books and piles of scrolls. She hasn’t moved. Not once. I keep checking her pulse, because the longer I look at her, the more I panic, thinking she’s on the verge of leaving me.

  It’s been five or six hours since she fell asleep. Dusk is filling the summer sky. I’ve read over most of the books, the marked passages Sid’s been poking around in for months now. The scrolls took a little more effort, since I had to piece together passages that have worn away over time.

  Sid was right, according to every warning pertaining to the spell he put on Kara, something—obviously me—is making that spell slip. But if it slips enough that the curse her father put on her returns . . . what will that mean? That curse almost destroyed her before Sid saved her from it. And now something in me is reversing all of those protections.

  Something in me is killing her.

  There has to be a way to fix it.

  Night falls and darkness fills the room. Eventually the house goes silent. No one comes in to check on me, no one knocks. It’s like they know I don’t want to talk.

  I find myself drifting off, barely noticing when the book I was staring at slides from my hands, hitting the floor. But as my mind gives up and my body sinks into sleep, a fleeting image of the beach cave comes to me, reminding me of my sister and what I owe to her as well, what I owe to so many who sacrificed, thinking they would save me. And just as I’m muttering out a prayer for protection over Kara, over Ava, over everyone I care about, darkness takes me into a dream where I can be numb to it all.

  The sound of water crashes behind me, followed by the repeated clack, clack, clack of smaller rocks tumbling in the tide as it retreats. A damp breeze comes up, chilling me, sticking the smell of salt and ocean to my skin.

  Kara stands only a few feet away from the entrance of the cave, facing me. She’s wearing underwear and a thin tank top again. Her legs and arms are covered in goose bumps. Her bare toes curl in the moist sand.

  Even in the dark, her face is so full of light, so lovely, her skin bright porcelain against the backdrop of the silver-black shadow of the cave.

  A knowing smile tilts her lips, highlighting the dimple in her left cheek. The blue of her eyes brightens as she casually brushes the hair from her shoulder.

  She’s so close. My body needs to go to her, to feel her in my hands.

  But I can’t touch her. I’m not supposed to.

  Her head tilts, and she motions for me to come closer, her smile growing.

  I push back at the voice inside of me that tells me no, and I step forward. She bites the side of her bottom lip and reaches out to touch me as I approach.

  But then her face changes. Her smile fades and her hand goes to her neck. Her features twist. Pain marks lines in her brow, and a choking sound leaves her throat.

  Something sharp and silver glints in her chest.

  In horror, I watch a red blossom grow around it until it becomes a deep crimson shimmer, spilling over her breasts, coating her belly, then sliding in thin lines down her thighs.

  She stares at me, eyes terrified, mouth open in a silent scream as the blade tip disappears into her sternum.

  And then she crumples to the sand.

  Ava stands behind her, a stark white form against the cave entrance. Her silver hair swirls in the wind, curling around her like it’s alive. She’s holding a dagger. Blood runs from the blade onto her fist in a thick glistening coat, drip, drip, dripping into Kara’s pool of black hair.

  The sand at her feet soaks up the life, then seems to take on the shape of skulls, so many of them, bleached white from the sun. The ground crunches as Ava steps forward, bone grinding against bone. She stares at me, anger turning down her mouth and narrowing her eyes.

  “Look what you’ve done,” she says, through her teeth. “Look what you’ve done.”

  Something touches my head and my heavy lids open. I squint at a pale face and dark hair hovering in front of me. A smile grows across the face and a dimple appears.

  “Kara!” I croak out, grabbing her, pulling her to me. “Oh my God.” She settles on my lap as I hug her. Every cell in my body sighs with relief. She’s awake. She’s alive.

  “Ugh, you’re killing me,” she grunts as I squeeze her. “My eyeballs are gonna pop out.”

  Her words bring back the possibility of the horrors ahead; they bring back the dream, the vision of Ava’s hands coated in Kara’s blood. I loosen my grip but I don’t let go.

  She kisses my forehead. “How long have you been sitting here in this pile of books?”

  “I don’t know.” Feels like forever. And I still don’t have any answers. None that I want.

  But she’s okay. I squeeze her arm to remind my skin she’s really here.

  “So, it happened again, didn’t it?” She sounds like she’s preparing for the worst. She moves from my lap to the bed and my hands feel empty. “The last thing I remember is that rager of a headache.”

  Before I say anything, she sees my fear and lays back on the bed, pressing her palms into her forehead. “Shit. What now?”

  Misery bites hard into my chest. I whisper, “I’m hurting you.”

  Her arms fall to her sides and she stares at the ceiling. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” I need it not to be true, but it is.

  She sits up and looks at me. She doesn’t seem surprised.

  “Did you know this could happen?” I ask, a chill working over me.

  She looks down at her hands.


  “Kara.” I lean forward in the chair. “Please tell me you didn’t know this might happen.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m yours, that should’ve protected me.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I mean, I’m not a Light, so your power might affect me differently, but I thought since I was yours, in your heart—if I kept being yours—it wouldn’t matter.”

  “Wait, Sid said this blood stuff was happening because of your curse and because I’m not your soul mate, or whatever.”

  “That’s true,” she says, sounding like she’s trying to defend him, in case I think he’s lying to me or something.

  “Kara. We had sex. How could you not tell me that you thought I was making you sick?”

  She shakes her head and scoots to the edge of the bed, leaning forward and gripping my knees. “No, Aidan, it’s not like that. I still don’t buy that this is bad.”

  “You were bleeding from your eyes!”

  She looks at me with a small, ironic smile, and I’m stunned by her reaction to all of it. What is there to smile about?

  “I had sex with you, Aidan,” she says. “Don’t you get it? Ask yourself: How in the hell did I go from terror at the thought of intimacy like that, to peace with it in a matter of weeks?” She gives me a pointed look. “You’re cute and all, but you’re no magician. Well, you are, but you know what I mean.”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  “Before I met you, I lived fear. I walked in it like sludge. I felt it on my skin. I had no idea what it felt like to be normal or have safety. It was a vague memory, if that memory was even real or just imagined. And then you came into my world. Everything shifted sideways. You kissed me and I felt it: light in my skin, breaking off the pain. By the time we woke up the morning after the Awakening, I was so sure. I can’t explain it, but I knew that you could save me.” She reaches out and touches my chest. “And you have.”

  I rise from the chair. “Kara, I’m killing you, not saving you.”

  “No,” she says, matter-of-fact. No red spark in her eye—she believes it, whether it’s true or not. “You’re saving me.”

  Her soul is changing, that’s obvious from the blurring handprints, which could be why she’s less fearful. But it’s also obvious her body isn’t accepting any of it as an improvement. And the Chinese characters on her neck from the childhood curse her father placed on her . . .

  “The counter spell is failing,” I say. “Sid says the warnings make it very clear. They say the blood-show is a sign that your protection against the original curse is weakening.”

  She stares at me, her mouth open a little, like she has no idea what to say.

  “I’m breaking it, Kara. My power. It’s tearing away the magic, undoing everything Sid did to you. It might be healing you, but it’s also leaving you helpless again. I know you want me, but do you really want that?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she says, standing and coming closer, her voice tight. “I’m better, Aidan. So much better. I can breathe and not ache. I can touch you and feel free. I can’t lose that.”

  “And so what do we do?” I say. “We stay close and just hope it doesn’t kill you, or bring back the curse so you go crazy?”

  “We have faith,” she says, grabbing my hand. She brings it to her jaw and closes the last foot of space between us. “Love me and have faith that that’s enough to save me.”

  There’s a storm inside of me as I watch her. She’s so calm. But I feel like screaming. She’s not going to let me keep her safe. I should say something horrible, shove her back, do something to make her hate me. But that’s never going to happen. I can’t even imagine doing anything except holding her closer.

  So I don’t really have a choice.

  I shake my head and touch her cheek, her hair . . . memorize every curve of her face, every shade of cream in her skin, so that I’ll have something to take with me when I go.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Aidan

  The house is silent as I make my way down the stairs in the middle of the night. I left all the books on Kara’s bedroom floor except for Eric’s journal. I grabbed a few things to wear and my toothbrush, shoving them in the small duffel bag, along with the alabaster box and Ava’s bag of secrets. But I left my cell phone on the dresser. I can get a new number from Hanna later. I don’t want anyone to be able to get ahold of me too easily.

  I couldn’t kiss Kara good-bye; there was no way. As the day passed yesterday, I acted like everything was fine, playing off my lack of affection as fatigue—even though she probably saw right through me.

  By the time night came around again, everyone seemed to be buying that things were back to normal. Yes, Holly was watching Kara like a hawk at dinner, and Jax didn’t seem to have it in him to crack any of his usual jokes. But there were moments of ease, and Finger even blinked a bit in Rebecca’s direction. Rebecca studied me during the whole meal. I knew she was sensing my detachment and getting worried about what I was going to do. But it doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure she won’t tell anyone.

  And as Kara settled into bed, I sat beside her, pretending to read, pretending I wasn’t studying her as she fell asleep, and praying that I didn’t lose my will to leave.

  I’m not going too far; I can still watch out for her. But there’s no way in hell I can take the chance that my power could kill her. I need to learn more about how my abilities affect others, and I need to be sure she’s safe. That they’re all safe.

  I walk toward the bus stop, feeling the familiar weight of the LA streets settle on my shoulders again, as if welcoming me home. I could go to the abandoned warehouse I slept in before I came to LA Paranormal. Or I could find a new spot to hunker down in. The idea is horrifying, actually. I never thought I’d be back out here. And this time I know what I’m missing. I know how alone I am.

  I board the bus heading in the direction of Eric’s club. I’m sure there’s a spot there to sleep for one night; it’ll keep me in familiar territory. I’ll figure the rest out when the sun comes up.

  I don’t sleep. It’s too cold and my body isn’t used to being out in the elements all night anymore. I’ve gone soft, apparently. So I just tuck my dagger at my side and watch the mouth of the alley, closing my eyes every now and then to pretend like I might actually get rest. I’m not sure what time it is when the sound of someone clearing their throat rises over the pulse of passing traffic in the distance.

  My nerves jump, and I grip my dagger tighter as my eyes spring open.

  It’s Hanna. I hadn’t even heard her walking down the alley. She’s standing over me, holding what looks like a cup of coffee and a white paper bag. She’s dressed like she just came into work for the day, her clothes clean and pressed.

  “What are you thinking, Aidan?” she asks, her brow furrowing. Her concern presses at me.

  The cold morning air sends shivers through me now that sleep’s not making me numb, and the only response I can manage is chattering teeth. I hug myself and press into the brick wall behind me. I’m curled on a pallet in the corner of the alley behind the club, my hoodie on backward, knees tucked under to keep warm. LA can get cold once the sun goes down.

  “Why are you out here?” she asks, looking around at the alley with disgust. “One of the bussers saw you when he brought out the trash and almost called the police. You’re lucky he came and got me first.”

  It was Stoner Guy from the other night. I don’t think he recognized me, but I was fairly sure he wasn’t going to call the cops.

  “Morning,” I say.

  “Come inside, for heaven’s sake. You need to clean up.”

  I manage to move my stiff limbs and follow her around to the other side of the club, in through the back door. “Go sit in the break room and I’ll meet you in there,” she says. “There should be coffee.”

  Then she heads up the stairs to the office and I head for that caffeine.

  I warm up pretty quickly once I get settled on the couch with a n
ice hot mug in my hand. Now all I need is a shower.

  Hanna comes in and gives me the paper bag she was carrying. “Eat this and then shower in the apartment behind the warehouse. After you wash the alley off you, you’ll come into the office and tell me what’s going on and why you were sleeping outside.” I open my mouth to protest, but she interrupts before I can get a word out. “And if you argue, or give me a hard time about it, I’ll call Sid.”

  I shut my mouth.

  “My guess is you don’t want him to know you’re here,” she says.

  “No,” I say.

  She sighs. “Eat and we’ll talk in my office a bit later.” And then she leaves me to my breakfast: an egg, smoked salmon, and spinach wrap from the deli down the street.

  As I eat, I consider what’s next. If Hanna knows about Daniel being my time-traveling dad, and possibly knows that Eric is an angel, that would mean it’s all out on the table. I’ll be able to explain everything honestly—the whole story, including what’s happening with Kara—so she’ll see why I had to leave the house and can’t go back. Not until I figure things out.

  Right now, I need to make a decision about how to actually do that. I could focus on Ava and her father. But I’m pretty sure I won’t be any help to Eric against some badass dominion angel. The best I can do is block it from coming anywhere near Ava’s body, and I’ve pretty much done that already.

  I could try and figure out how I’m raising people from the dead. Maybe that will help me heal Kara, and possibly bring back Ava? And if things go in an unthinkable direction . . .

  It would mean learning as much about my powers as I can, figuring out everything I’m able to do and why I can do it. Daniel said that I should prepare for this inevitable thing that I can’t stop. But the how is definitely unclear. It feels like I can’t stop anything. And stewing about it all certainly isn’t doing anything to help. So, I scarf down the last of the breakfast sandwich and pour a warmer for my coffee. Then I head out to find that much-needed shower.