Pretty Dark Sacrifice

by Heather L. Reid

  True, she wasn’t alone in missing Aaron, wasn’t alone in losing him either, but an accident? No. She had jumped into the raging river, not fallen. A part of her sought to die that night.

  “Of course it’s my fault!” Quinn snapped a twig in half with the heel of her boot. “I’m sick of everyone dancing around me as if I’m a fragile piece of porcelain. He jumped in to save me. He’s terrified of the water, Reese, and he jumped in anyway. There’s nobody to blame but me.”

  Pinching the bridge of her nose, Quinn swallowed the emotions that threatened to break her. Confession is good for the soul. Spit it out. Tell her you didn’t fall, that you jumped, that you put them all in jeopardy that night. You and you alone. She squeezed her lip between her teeth until she tasted blood. Voicing the blame that was eating her alive, sharing the secret, would be a relief. But what if Reese hated her for it? What little courage Quinn had mustered left her, and she swallowed the truth that settled on the tip of her tongue.

  “You want me to stop treating you like you’re fragile? You want the truth?” Reese took a step forward, knuckles white, face flushed. “You want to hear how Aaron insisted Marcus take you first? How I watched Aaron let go of the branch he was holding onto while Marcus struggled to drag your lifeless body back to shore?”

  Quinn turned away and covered her ears. Twin waterfalls of tears ran down her neck, soaking her T-shirt.

  “How helpless I felt watching the current drag Aaron’s body under? I thought I was going to lose all of you, everyone I loved, in the depths of this goddamn river.” Reese picked up a giant rock and hurled it to the riverbed.

  Marcus, Reese, Jenna—all had kept the gory details from her for weeks, feeding her bits and pieces but never the whole story, and part of her was glad to be spared. Now Reese granted her no reprieve.

  “You weren’t awake to hear Marcus screaming his name.” Another rock hit the water with a smack. “You didn’t hold your breath every time Marcus dived under the water, or comfort him while his heart broke into a million pieces because he had failed his best friend. I did.” Reese poked her own chest with a finger. “I witnessed it all while you lay half-dead on the muddy bank. Do you have any idea how freaking scared I was?”

  Each word pricked like a wasp sting. Throat tight and aching, Quinn thought of Marcus pulling her to safety as the boy she’d spurned suffered in the cold water alone.

  “Aaron traded his life for yours. He knew he wouldn’t make it back to shore. Don’t you get that? Did you even know that Marcus won’t go back into the pool because he feels so responsible? No, you wouldn’t, because you haven’t asked about any of it, how any of us feel. You’re too wrapped up in yourself to care.”

  “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?” Quinn wanted to wrap her arms around her friend, wanted to take the pain from her, but the anger in Reese’s face stopped her cold. “Of course I care. Do you really think I don’t understand what he did for me that night, what you all did?”

  “No, I really don’t.” Reese folded her arms over her chest. “You think you feel bad? What about me? And Marcus? We should be mourning together instead of pushing each other away. Stop pushing me away. You might not need me, but I sure as hell need you right now.” Reese’s hand trembled as she wiped the evidence of her emotions from her cheek. “You didn’t die with him, Quinn, but some days it feels like you did.”

  Silence, awkward and oppressive filled the air. Quinn reached for her best friend, but Reese swatted her away. Without another word, she disappeared back down the path, not even turning around when Quinn called her name.

  ***

  “There you are. I was starting to worry.”

  Quinn winced and turned. Her mother leaned against the kitchen doorframe. Jeans and a white T-shirt replaced her usual business suit, her blond hair tied back in a rare casual ponytail.

  “I thought you had a meeting tonight.”

  “I’ve been home for hours. I sent you a text.” Ever since she’d been released from the hospital, her mom had spent more nights at home and fewer at her office. A few months ago, Quinn would have relished having more time with her mother, but not now. Now, having her mother around meant more lies and more hiding.

  Quinn slipped her phone from her pocket. Three texts from her mom, all unread. Oops.

  “Sorry. It was on silent.” Quinn hoped her mother would drop it, but no such luck.

  “Where were you? I was so worried.”

  If her mother had known she’d been down at the river, she would flip. One more little lie wasn’t going to hurt anything.

  “Shopping with Reese. She wanted to buy a new outfit for her date with Marcus this weekend.” Quinn pushed a smile to her lips and hoped her mom would buy it.

  “I’m so glad to see you out of the house and spending time with your friends.” Her mother smiled back. “Did you find anything?”

  “Not really.” Quinn shrugged

  “Well, at least you’re getting out again. Are you hungry?”

  Quinn didn’t have a chance to say no before her mom draped an arm around her shoulder and steered her into the kitchen.

  “I ordered pizza for dinner.”

  Quinn sat down at the bar, and her mother slid a slice of pizza in front of her. She picked a chunk of ham from the cheese and dangled it between her fingers.

  “Now that you’re feeling better, getting out more, maybe we should talk about school.” Quinn choked on a bit of stringy cheese and glared at her mom. Great. First Reese, now Mom, a relentless alliance forcing her back into a life she didn’t want anymore.

  “You’ve been through a lot, I get that. I’ve been patient, but I think it’s time to start putting all this behind you and get back to normal.” Her mother took a pre-made salad from the fridge and drizzled a small amount of dressing on the top. Enough for a rabbit to eat.

  “I’ve decided to get my GED.” Quinn wasn’t going back, but convincing her mother wasn’t going to be easy. “There are online classes I can take, and I’ll be ready for the test by summer. I’ll even pay for it myself.”

  Quinn’s mom sighed and shook her head. “I know it’s been hard on you, sweetie, but locking yourself away in this house isn’t the answer. It’s past time you got back to a routine, to friends and cheerleading. I’m sure Aaron wouldn’t want you to miss your senior year. I won’t agree to the GED.”

  “I’m not going back. I can’t.”

  “You can, and you will. I’ve already made an appointment with your counselor. We have to be there at nine sharp. I’ve taken the morning off.”

  “You arranged it, you can cancel it.”

  “I could, but I won’t. I’m putting my foot down on this. You’ll go back to school on Monday and walk the stage in June with your class. End of discussion.” Her mother put her hand on Quinn’s. “Trust me, you’ll thank me for it later. You can’t hide from life, Quinn.”

  How could she explain that it wasn’t life she was hiding from, it was death. His death. Quinn pulled her hand away and picked a pineapple chunk from the pizza. Her mom crunched on her lettuce. She might be able to make her go on Monday, but she wouldn’t be able to watch her every day. Play the game, Quinn, then you can do what you want when she thinks she’s won and her back is turned.

  “So, your dad called again today,” her mom said, changing the subject. “He’s finally booked a flight and will be here Wednesday. He wants to take you out for your Eighteenth.” Her voice was laced with nerves and annoyance.

  “Tell him he’s about four weeks too late.” Quinn noticed a slight darkening of the kitchen as the dozen overhead bulbs flickered and dimmed. The Qeres dagger strapped to her leg pulsed and burned against her calf.

  “Anyway, I’m sure something will come up.” Quinn flexed her fist. “Like a paper cut or a flat tire or something. Anyway, I’d rather he stayed away.”

  “Yeah, well, he is your father whether you like him or not.” Cracks in her mom�
��s civility were starting to show. “Taking you to dinner is the least he can do since he didn’t even bother to show up to see you in the hospital. He should have dropped everything and hopped a plane.”

  “I’ve learned to keep my expectations low,” Quinn mumbled through a mouthful of crust. Truth was, even low expectations didn’t keep her heart from breaking every time her father disappointed her. He wouldn’t want to leave his new baby to visit his daughter in the hospital. No, that would be cruel. “Tell him to stay home with his real family. It’s not like we aren’t used to not having him around.”

  Two shadows slithered up and over the counter, attaching to each of her mother’s arms. Quinn swallowed. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead as she flexed her fingers, unsure what to do. Bile rose in her throat, and her heart beat like a thousand wings inside her chest.

  “Tell him yourself. I’m tired of being your messenger.” Her mother stabbed at the lettuce, the fork poking holes in the plastic container, scraping against the granite below.

  “Mom?”

  “We didn’t talk for almost a year, and suddenly, he’s calling me all the time.” Her mother’s jaw clenched. “He talks to me as if we are old friends catching up. Going on and on about the restaurant, his new baby, and his life with that woman.” Bitterness hissed from her mother’s mouth. “Does he really think I want to hear him call that whore he cheated on me with his wife? Where was the steady job when we were together? And a baby?” Her mother’s expression hardened.

  The shadows solidified into familiar forms. Two leathery beasts, a foot in length, whipped long tails from side to side, as they climbed up her mother’s back to perch on each shoulder. Claws sank into flesh. Double forked tongues licked at wave after wave of secret confessions erupting from the deepest, darkest place within her mother.

  Anger drew Quinn’s hand to the pommel of her dagger, but she hesitated. She didn’t even know what it did. What if she missed, hit her mom instead?

  If she could extend her shield, maybe she could cut them off from her mother’s increasing scorn. Focusing her thoughts, she ignored the stinging comments flying from her mother’s mouth and imagined her light barrier expanding, encircling both of them in a giant golden ball. Nothing happened.

  “He never even wanted to be a father. Maybe I should have had an abortion like he wanted.” Her mother’s hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened.

  Knots tightened in Quinn’s stomach, and she froze. It might have only been a passing thought, but the demons seized on it, bringing it to light. That was their MO. Exploit negative human emotions, feed on them, magnify them, create chaos and darkness. Azrael had explained it all to Quinn, how the demons grew in power, a vicious cycle. The more pain and chaos within humanity, the more demons crossed the veil. The more demons that crossed the veil, the more negative emotions were exploited, and the weaker the veil between worlds became.

  “God, Quinn! I can’t believe I said that aloud. I didn’t mean it. He didn’t really, we didn’t … ”

  Placing a hand over her mother’s, Quinn shushed her. She gritted her teeth and tried to calm her racing thoughts. She wouldn’t let them get to her, wouldn’t let them turn her mom into a sadistic picnic for them to grow fat upon.

  Breathe. In, out. Focus on what you want. It’s all about intent, about what you want.

  Light crept from Quinn’s fingers, over her mother’s wrist, and inched upward. The skin of the first demon sizzled and popped as the barrier grazed its long, leathery tail. Smoke rose from its burned flesh, and it howled, taking to the air. Wings twisted into shadowy smoke and back to demon form as it flew in circles over the counter, angry at being separated from its prey.

  She had done it. The bubble of light glowed and pulsed around both of them. Deprived of a meal, the demons zoomed upward and disappeared through the ceiling. The kitchen brightened, and Quinn slumped against the counter.

  “What was that?” Her mother pulled her hand away from Quinn and looked around. “I thought I saw … ”

  “Saw what, Mom?” Quinn held her breath.

  “Nothing. I don’t know. My head, it’s all fuzzy.” She rubbed her temple.

  She didn’t remember; maybe it was for the best. If only Quinn could forget, too. “You must be tired, Mom, that’s all. I know I am.”

  “Yes, must be all the stress.” Her mother frowned but didn’t argue. “I love you, Quinn.” She placed her hand over Quinn’s and met her gaze. “You know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  Once Quinn left the kitchen, Azrael’s familiar hum greeted her at her bedroom doorway.

  “There were demons attached to my mother,” Quinn accused, as if it were Azrael’s fault. “Where were you?” Quinn asked.

  “Close enough to step in had things gotten out of control.”

  “I don’t like you taking chances with the people I love like that.” Quinn pushed past him and into her room. “What if my powers hadn’t worked?”

  “But they did. You took care of them with grace and strength. Soon, you won’t even need me.” Was that sadness or sarcasm? Quinn wasn’t sure.

  “I think it’s time.” Azrael ruffled his feathers.

  “Time for what?”

  “To take you to Arcadia to claim your birthright.”

  “Not this again.” Quinn rolled her eyes and plopped down on the end of her bed.

  “Yes, this again.”

  “I told you, I won’t leave until I know what happened to Aaron.”

  “Stubborn girl,” Azrael mumbled. “I can tell you what happened to him. He is dead. Drowned in an attempt to save your life.” Quinn stared open-mouthed at Azrael. “You chose to accept your role, and that means doing your duty. Even Eve did not whine this much. The Light did not spare you to watch you act like a spoiled child and waste your life on the memory of some boy.”

  “His name is Aaron, and why should I believe a word you say? All you do is talk about this great power, about me being Eol Ananael, but what does that even mean? According to you, there are thousands upon thousands of demons crossing the veil all over the human realm. There’s only one of me. Banishing one demon when I’m mad doesn’t make me a savior. I don’t even know how to control this power. I can barely save myself, how can I save anyone else?”

  “If you go to Arcadia and claim your birthright, you will have the entire heavenly host at your back.”

  “I’m not going. End of discussion.” It surprised her how much like her mother she sounded. But this wasn’t just about finding Aaron—her life was here, her friends. All of this was so new, but she refused to admit to Azrael how scared she was. “I want to be alone now, please.” She forced her will upon him so there would be no doubt she meant it.

  He nodded, stepped through the wall, and disappeared outside.

  Exhausted, she closed the floral drapes, blocking out the rays of moonlight and blanketing herself in shadows and grief. She couldn’t bear the reminder of the one moment of happiness she and Aaron had together, staring up at the harvest moon, the heat of his breath on her cheek.

  Reese was right; he’d been gone for five weeks and three days. The possibility of him being alive was less than zero. She pressed her fists to her eyes to stop the flow of tears. Grabbing the crumpled map, she unfolded the edges and ironed out the wrinkles with a palm, examining the grid that marked the fifty-mile search radius.

  But if Aaron was dead, why couldn’t she let go? There had to be somewhere they’d missed.

  “Aaron, where are you?” she whispered, turning her attention back to the map. Of course, she didn’t get a response. If it were that easy, a glowing arrow would have appeared to point the way. “I should let go.” Her hand shook, poised to make the final mark, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Letting go meant accepting that he wasn’t coming back. Instead, she dropped the pen on the floor and crawled under the covers and placed her hand on the map.

  “Aaron, I’m sorry. I’m
so sorry.” She patted the paper, letting the rhythm of his name and her whispered wishes lull her to sleep.

  Despair crushed the air from her lungs, and a pit of hopelessness opened inside. Tendrils of familiar fog reached for her, and she lowered her defenses, letting them suck the shame and regret from her heart until there was nothing left, and she fell, headfirst, into a dream.

  ***

  It was well past midnight, and they were finally alone. This time the dream placed them in her room, not in the hospital. They sat cross-legged, knees touching beneath the floral duvet spread across their laps, Aaron’s back to the door, hers leaned against the wooden headboard.

  “Happy birthday.” Aaron placed a small wooden box in front of her. Strange symbols had been delicately carved on its mahogany surface.

  “It’s beautiful, but my birthday was weeks ago.” Quinn took the box in her hands and examined the etched symbols. She tried the latch, but it wouldn’t open.

  “It’s locked.” Quinn frowned. “What’s in it?”

  Quinn shook her head, and then jiggled the box. A tingling started in her fingers, and she gasped as the carved runes began to glow, first blue, then gold. She cocked her head. “What do they mean?”

  “Don’t you know?” Aaron took the box from her, and the carvings dimmed.

  She wanted to examine it more, but out of nowhere, an inky wave crashed into Aaron, washing him out into a sea of darkness, the box along with him.

  Chapter Seven

  The small cemetery of St. Angeles held a handful of mourning dresses, heavy perfumes, and dark suits. Close friends and family come to pay their respects to an empty grave. Quinn squeezed a crumpled tissue in her fist. A pair of large black-rimmed sunglasses hid the deep bruises under her eyes from a restless night and dulled the bright rays that glistened off the blanket of morning dew. Birds hopped along the wrought iron finials that adorned the churchyard fence, chirping to one another, oblivious to the grief and mourning around them.