"I'm here." He slid his knuckles down my cheek. I breathed him in, soil and cedar wafting from his skin like posh cologne. He wore darkness like a tailored suit, the wind like silk. He wasn't a presence, but a penetration, as if he wove himself into the fabric of his territory.
Shadows shuddered beneath his touch, rippling a sexual charge across my skin. My throat yearned for his lips; my mind warned his teeth would tear out my jugular. My body craved his fingers; my mind screeched he'd claw into my heart.
I turned my head and his hand retreated. "Do you know who died?"
Delano released a slow, controlled breath. His irises were freshly waning. "Our south neighbor."
"Bavol or Jenara?"
Or, God forbid, both.
Delano closed his eyes to hear the Earth. His body rocked to an unheard rhythm, circling hips and undulating chest. His fingertips tapped the air as if playing keys. He reminded me of seaweed swaying in a current, his motions mesmerizing. "Jenara. Only the feminine half is cut from the energy."
He knew! Just like that! As if making a phone call! The night had invaded me, garbled my thoughts and magics in a painful, undecipherable jabber which made me believe Delano had died. Good grief, I would've believed twenty darklings were dead. I glowered, seething, wanting to spit bitterness from my mouth.
You believe I betray you? the night whispered inside my bones. You use me, play with me, but refuse to commit to your changeling birthright.
I shoved that assertion away, focused on being angry at the night. Maybe I acted ridiculous, but I preferred anger over facing how pathetically weaker my abilities were compared to a darkling, night and cold's rightful wielder. Or that, no matter how much I trained, I'd never be a darkling unless I committed my long life to the darkshine. Committed centuries to Delano.
Just do it, fool, my mother sneered inside my head. Most people would kill to inherit such magical powers or find a lover like him! Especially someone as plain and ordinary as you. You're avoiding your shot at worth and happiness.
Possibly. But that reasoning had duped me before. I'd married the hot older guy who promised protection, acceptance, and social worth … and I didn't get a fairytale. Instead, I discovered outer beauty could hide inner ugliness, kindness could disguise cruelty, and a marriage could morph into a prison sentence.
I didn't care what incredible powers I'd gain if I took the darkshine, or how amazing my promised partner seemed. Nothing was worth repeating my past or risking my freedom. I never wanted to feel owned again. Not emotionally. Not psychologically. And especially not physically, which was what the darkshine did. The Earth could force demands on darklings. The planet owned them. And the more the Earth forced, the more the darkling conduit was strained. With the darkling population actively decreasing, and energies pumped through fewer and fewer individuals, it was likely the Earth's demands would start costing lives.
Delano picked up the toilet paper and Chinese takeout. "Let's go. I'm teaching you something new tonight," he said, speaking as if he'd become accustomed to the increasing darkling murders. But as we headed through the woods, a great gray owl hoo-hooing behind us, I caught him steal nervous glances at the southern horizon.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The highlight of R.D. Vallier's multi award-winning career was when her 6th grade teacher threatened to call CPS over a story about a runaway and a magical wolf. She avoided government capture, but continued creating dark tales in secret. Now she's living the cliché as a storyteller in the remote wilderness, handcrafting an off-grid homestead with straw and mud and whatever she scrounges from the landfill. She holds degrees in wildlife management and hard knocks, only feels at home on the road, and believes humanity illuminates the most brilliantly during darkness.
You can peek into her life at: www.rdvallier.com
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I started Darkshine in 2009 and finished it in 2012, where it then sat for four years while I figured out what the heck to do with it. Many people helped and offered support during that time, but I feel a few need special acknowledgement. In alphabetical order:
Anastasia: You are proof genetics mean nothing when it comes to sisterhood. Thank you for your love, your creativity, your intelligence, your honest encouragement, and for a crazy and authentic twenty years. Dennis: Thank you for teaching me the language of Appalachia's birds, and for helping me fall in love with its streams and trees. R.I.P. Rock-Step. Joshua: There are many reasons why I dedicated this book and my life to you, but they are far too vast—and far too intimate—to list here. You are both my rock and my heart-song. Thank you. For everything. My Early Readers: Thank you for taking time out of your world to help me out in mine! Nikki: Your enthusiasm carried me through many rough spots. Thank you for believing in this book. It means more to me than you probably know. Nora: You have put up with my neuroses with the patience and solicitude of a saint. Thank you for your help as I muddled through this process, and for sticking with me through all of my freak-outs. I'm sure more will come. Rowan: You weren't born yet when this book was completed, but you are a huge reason on why I am doing something with it now. I love you so much, my little amazing. Thank you for being you.
Darkshine by R.D. Vallier
Published by Free Fire Press
www.freefirepress.com
© 2016 R.D. Vallier
www.rdvallier.com
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Cover by Acid PopTart
www.acid-poptart.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
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