Dark Ember

by R. D. Vallier

  "Del! Wait!" she said. "We'll need leaders. I nominate you."

  James laughed "That would guarantee failure."

  "Like you'd be any better," I snapped.

  James straightened his cuff. "I am the one with a military background."

  I blinked. How? His ears are pressed.

  "Delano, however," he continued, "is the youngest darkling and completely unqualified."

  "Excuse me?" Delano said. "Unlike you, I've lived in and escaped the Realm's tyranny. Do you need to see my back?"

  "Flashing your backside and sucking cock won't create a government," James said. "We'll request your expertise if we build a whorehouse, but right now we need a real man to lead us."

  James might as well've shot Delano with a Taser, and just like that we lost. Delano stood, mortified, his Adam's apple bobbing while the crowd snickered and mocked. James leaned back, relishing Delano's distress. Kilroy stared from behind his fence. Ice crystals crawled over my empty plate, frosting the crumbs. Instinctively, I leapt to Delano's side. Weldon and Thida called to us as clear as muddy waters. Every eye bored like an auger as we turned our incongruous wings on the crowd.

  "Petulance won't excuse you from the laws we create!" James shouted as we sailed away on a stream of laughter.

  Delano's middle finger pointed to the ceiling as the door slammed behind us.

  Three wytches tensed as Delano raged past, leaking a trail of ice crystals to the casino. I scurried in a half slump, failing at slipping on my shoes. I growled and hurried to his side, barefoot, high heels clacking together from my fingers.

  They're laughing at you! my mother whispered inside my head. They think you're fools!

  Who cares? I thought, and slid my hand into Delano's. I have bigger problems.

  The Realm's threat loomed, and now the loss of freedom creaked in our future like a branch ready to snap from piling snow. The Realm bound me to their laws because we were the same species. I suspected the darklings would force the same if I took the darkshine, and who knew what they'd decree. I disagreed with many human laws, but those feelings didn't protect me from punishment. It didn't matter if I opposed the rule or felt a law damaged more lives in the long-term. Because force mattered. Boots and guns and sheer numbers mattered. My lips twisted, the thought seeming silly and frightening. Is it only the people's obedience which gives systems strength? What would happen if we didn't obey? Delano received half the vote. What if we all said no?

  Delano didn't recover his voice until we strode onto the strip. "I can't believe them!" Rain fell in torrents. A net of lightning tore across the sky, making me jump. Delano stormed down the sidewalk, clenching my hand. I cringed when my bare foot stomped something squishy. Humans raced for cover, shrieking in the unexpected downpour.

  Delano sighed as raindrops patted his face. "I missed this. Enjoy it while you can."

  I bit my tongue. I despised the rain, and had for ten years and—I counted my fingers—nine days.

  "Um, Del." I watched humans gape at the shadows leaping beside us like weasels. "Your magic's, uh, showing."

  He grinned at me. His pupils were huge, like two eclipses devouring twin blood moons. He snapped his fingers and thunder boomed loud enough to make a drenched couple scream. Then, insanely, my smile stretched. We laughed as throngs of humans scurried for shelter, my chest lifting with each gale. I came to Vegas seeking community, yet no longer felt I needed to prove myself, or justify my choices or my existence. I knew where I stood, at the side of a renegade. So what if our relationship was bizarre? Life was bizarre! And it felt liberating.

  Hail clicked against a concrete world as we entered the Mirage. We stormed through the lobby, the elevator, the upstairs hall. Soon our room's lock blinked green and the door closed behind us with a heavy clack.

  The air conditioner whirred, the billowing sheer curtains framing Delano in white. He tossed his folder onto the dresser, and I saw him. Truly saw him, as if he shone through this night's darkness, through the fears and insecurities and despair. Hail ticked against the window and I realized I hadn't been excited about Las Vegas because of the darklings; I'd been excited because I wanted to travel here with him. The darklings were irrelevant. The darkshine was irrelevant. I learned magic to help him. I struggled through his lessons. I cared more about the man teaching me about his shadowy world than about the shadowy world itself. Even if Delano had no magic—even if he'd been born human—I'd appreciate him exactly as he was. I followed him from the meeting not out of a sense of loyalty or insecurity or pity, but because I didn't belong elsewhere. I didn't care if the darklings accepted me because he accepted me, and that was enough.

  My chest felt full. Warmth radiated through my harbored coldness. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my ear against his pounding heart. "Thank you."

  "For being a failure?" he grunted. "Hey, no problem."

  "You're not a failure."

  He shrugged and pulled away. "Yeah, well, we don't need them, anyway." He avoided my eyes as he unbuttoned his sleeves. "Vegas will be much more fun now. What do you want to do?"

  This question circled inside my head, trying to decide the best answer, when a stranger's voice barreled through my thoughts: Do what you want!

  I blinked. This new voice was tiny. A fragile, quivering whisper waving like a drowning victim. It wasn't my mother's voice or Sam's, nor was it Delano's or Orin's or a million other opinions I steeped in throughout my life. This voice rasped with corrosion, as if neglected in the deepest part of my mind—

  heart

  —for far too long.

  Do what you want!

  Do what I want!

  It was my voice, stretching its vocal cords one squeaky syllable at a time. I released a shaky breath as my doubts and insecurities invaded, clubs drawn and chains wrapped around their fists, determined to pummel my voice back into the hole it dared crawl out from. My voice held its ground, chin up, rust flaking off cocked elbows and trembling fists.

  Do what I want.

  Delano slid a hand through his damp hair and approached the dresser. "Of course, we don't have to stay…"

  I stepped toward him, my heart racing.

  You're not seriously going to do this! my mother gasped, as if I approached a shrine rattling a can of spray paint.

  Yes. A smile tugged my lips. Yes, I am.

  Delano groaned. "Maybe that's best. Weldon and Thida will understand…"

  He might reject you! my mother shrieked. Think how much it'll hurt!

  It hurts not doing this, that voice—my voice—squeaked, spitting rust and flexing hinges.

  You're being stupid!

  Then I allow myself to be stupid.

  "What do you think?" Delano sighed, staring at our luggage. "Should we go?"

  You'll damage everything! my mother sneered. He'll hate you and lose respect!

  He's worth those risks. I clasped Delano's arm. And every consequence.

  Delano's brow wrinkled when he saw my face. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes," I said, and kissed him. Arctic lightning shot through us. Delano tensed, then surrendered. Hands caressed backs. Hands caressed hips. His lips tried to follow mine when I backed away.

  Delano smirked. "So that's a yes for leaving?"

  I grinned coyly, then unzipped my dress and peeled it to my ankles.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  I slunk toward Delano in my cotton panties with a roll of my shoulders. He gaped at my bare skin, motionless, his eyes wide and unblinking. A wild animal caught in my headlights. I yanked his shirt from his pants. His belt buckle clinked as I tugged the leather off the prong. When he didn't move—merely stared with full-moon eyes, his lips parted—I sunk into my shoulders and pulled away.

  "Um, if you prefer to leave—"

  Delano joggled his head as if resettling its contents. "Are you kidding?" I squeaked as he tackled me to the bed. "If all it takes to seduce you is disavowing my community, gifting you a National Park, and publicly humiliating my
self, I would've done it months ago." I cupped his face as he kissed me. One of his hands clenched my hair; the other fumbled shirt buttons. I slid my fingers down his pants and he greeted me eagerly.

  "Wait!" I gasped through lips and tongue. Delano froze, an arm halfway out of his sleeve. "This doesn't mean anything, okay?"

  "You prefer meaningless sex?" He pursed his lips and nodded as if in deep thought. "Yup. I'm okay with that." He leaned back to shrug off his shirt, then kicked off his shoes and socks.

  "Not meaningless." I propped myself up on my elbows. His belt made a zzzissh sound as he whipped it from the loops. "But there's no promise of commitment. And tonight might be our only night."

  "You want only a test drive. Not a problem." Delano slipped off his pants and underwear, then slid over me like a predator, his grin all teeth. I was still on my elbows and felt night's power radiating off him, its seductive command to submit and let him feast. I fell to the bed, but he snatched my torso and, with a swift twist, pulled me on top of him.

  His cool hands traced the curves of my breasts. "I want to see you."

  Delano leered up at me, the planet's most seductive force glinting in his eyes, making my stomach flutter. What the hell am I doing? I dangled myself like a bell and feather to entice a house-cat, but from the shadows pounced a jaguar, eager to sink his claws into my flesh, pull me to his mouth, taste and devour. Delano grabbed my hips. My heart pounded. The room felt enormous and I felt tiny, as if the ceiling became a magnifying lens, zooming in on my broken nails, the scars on my thigh like pink confetti, my stomach pooched from too many pesto quesadillas. And beneath these flaws—hard and tense and grinding against me—was a man of beauty and confidence and dark seduction.

  I'm out of my league, I realized, smoothing down my hair. I wanted to be a vixen, but I had no frigging clue what I was doing! How could I when I'd been with only one man—one apathetic man, who wasn't even my species—my entire life?

  My breath caught. I then understood I'd had sex with Sam. I'd been fucked by Sam. I'd done the expectation of a wife failing to conceive a child with Sam. But intimacy? I was an intimacy virgin. And like a virgin, I curled into myself, doubted, became afraid. Delano slid a cool finger down my cleavage, my ribs, my stomach, my waist. But he might as well have punched those jaguar claws through an exoskeleton to shred and expose the raw meat beneath. Exposing the raw me.

  "Wait!"

  Delano froze, his fingertip pulling my underwear away from the skin.

  "I need to say something." My voice pitched much too high. "I … I don't know what I'm doing, okay? I feel outta my comfort zone and—"

  "Hey, whoah, if you're not comfortable we won't—"

  "No! I want to! But you're leering at me like a sexual predator and—"

  Delano's eyes widened. My underwear snapped against my waist. "I'm a sexual predator?"

  "Exactly. And it's—I mean no! Not like that!" I groaned. Oh my God! Shut up, Miriam! You're ruining everything! "It's just, you're sexy and confident and yum-yum rawr! And I'm all: Aaaah! Eeek! Pink confetti! Know what I mean?"

  Delano stared at me with a look of confused wonder, as if thinking: Oh. How odd. A tulip just sprouted out of her forehead.

  "It's like … Okay … So with Sam—"

  You're mentioning your ex?? Oh my God! Shut up!

  "We never … I mean, we had sex, obviously, but it was rare and—"

  Stop! Just. Stop!

  "—it was never like this. Sam didn't

  [love]

  want me. I thought he did, but I was a total idiot and—"

  "Miriam…"

  "Look. I … I don't want you expecting more, okay? I've been with only one guy and I'm not that experienced and I'd hate for you to be disappointed or—"

  "Miriam," Delano said, firmly. "I assure you my lack of a sex life is more embarrassing than yours. Which, if we ever get on with it, will probably only take me fifteen-seconds to prove."

  "Well," I said, hugging myself, "that's five-seconds longer than what I'm used to."

  Delano busted out laughing, deep and rolling. He pushed me off his stomach and sat up, gasping for breath.

  "Oooh! I'm the least sexy person ever," I whined. He leaned over his lap, laughing into his hands, body quaking. "I'm sorry! This is nothing like I planned."

  Delano's head turned. "You planned this?" he wheezed through laughter.

  Heat crept up my face. "Well, I didn't develop a strategy, exactly, but in my head it ended better than this. Ugh! I ruined everything. I'm sorry!"

  "Miriam…" He clasped my hand, chuckling.

  "I must learn to shut up, instead of this constant blah, blah, blah! Forget anything happened, okay? I promise to never—" Delano slipped my finger into his mouth, swiveled his tongue around the knuckle. My eyebrows jumped and my toes curled. He slid my finger from his lips, sucking momentarily on the tip. I held my eyes on his, finally—finally!—silent.

  Delano pushed me onto my side, my head cradled in a pillow, and lay beside me. "I want you." He brushed the hair from my face. "Very, very badly. Do you want me, too?"

  My throat clicked. "Um…" I nodded.

  "Good. But, as I said, it's been a long time." His finger traced my underwear's band. "Help me remember what to do with these. They must come off to perform the act, yes?"

  I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Del, c'mon."

  "Do not mock me," he said, dramatically pressing a hand against his chest. "I am tenderhearted and wish to learn."

  I cupped my mouth, giggling. "Okay. Sorry. They come off."

  He nodded seriously. "Mmhm. I see…"

  Giggle! Giggle!

  "And how do I remove them? With my fingers or my mouth?"

  "Um, fingers?"

  "Ah." He slid his hands beneath my rear, slipped the panties off my hips.

  My hand hid my smile and burning cheeks. "Mouth comes after."

  His eyebrows perked. "Yes. I seem to recall something about that. Here, right?" He slipped the underwear off my feet and kissed my ankle.

  "No." I held my breath. "Higher."

  His lips traced my leg, kissing my calf, my shin. He tasted my knee. "Here?"

  "No. Higher … Higher …" My body tensed. "Uh, that's good," I said, except it came out guh-hood. I cleared my throat to rid the embarrassing squeak, though I doubted he heard from between my thighs. My fingers gripped his corvine hair, and a few rapid heartbeats later my inhibitions melted like sea-salt beneath a tongue.

  The hotel faded. Only we existed. His flesh, my flesh. Slick fingers and panting breaths. And after he made me writhe and tremble and cry his name, he crawled up my body and kissed me, kissed me, kissed me. My breasts, my throat, the spot behind my ear which curled my toes and bubbled champagne up my spine. I breathed him in, the frost and the wildflowers and the predawn mountain valleys, myself now mixed on his exploring lips. As if we somehow melded. Became one. And I knew then this wasn't a test drive or a night of meaningless fun. We used no magic. We didn't need it. We formed our own connection, our own frequency, based not on expectations or arcane ancient secrets, but choice and desire, uncertainty and no promises. The sheets whispered beneath my sliding foot. I pressed my lips to his, kissed him as if I could devour him like how he devoured the stars. Maybe I was awkward. Maybe I was inexperienced. But Delano fell in love with me exactly as I was. My body shivered beneath him, naked and spread and at his mercy, yet I never felt so secure.

  I playfully nipped his lower lip. "What did you eat tonight?"

  Delano's neck tensed beneath my hand. "Err, just you." His tongue slid self-consciously across his teeth. "And a celery stick, I think."

  "In that case, order room service. You will need your stamina," I said, then wrapped my legs around his hips and drew him into me.

  Outside, the wind moaned and hail pounded a confused and artificial land. Inside, we explored each other with the passion of a desert storm, creating a heat even a darkling's coldness couldn't quench. Delano never stopped touching
me, whether he kissed my mouth or massaged my flesh or caressed and licked every space between. Sometimes I commanded. Sometimes I begged. Often I lost my mind. We explored each other until Las Vegas's streets flowed like streams, the tempest rattling the windows and surrounding us as a fortress, daring anyone to intrude.

  When the creeping new sun faded his bare flesh, my thighs clenched his waist as if capable of controlling the natural rhythm of the world. Desperate to keep him, I yanked on Vegas's amplified magic. Night rushed in. My body bucked. Delano's eyes snapped open, locked onto mine. I cried out as shadows filled me, felt foreign skin melt into mine. Come to me! Come to me! Come to me! Delano's eyes rolled to the whites. His lips parted as if to scold me or to encourage me or to scream out his pleasure. But then the sun broke the horizon and the weight of his body vanished on top of mine. My hair fell through his fists, and the night's whispering allure slipped from my control. The magic and the man disappeared, leaving me naked and gasping and desperate for nightfall.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  I checked out of the hotel, locked our belongings in the BMW, and decided to hit the strip. My head throbbed, my joints creaked, and my mouth tasted like a dead flower, but I had no obligations and no guarantee we'd ever return to Las Vegas after last night's fiasco. I was determined to enjoy this vacationland jackpot, pain and discomfort be damned. Besides, the Bellagio wasn't too far away, and I'd overheard guests gushing about the garden displays.

  I had slept a few hours after Delano faded into the darkshine, my imagination feeling his body spooning mine, his fingers pressing my thigh, his lips against my hair. We hadn't created a plan for the morning, thus I didn't know if he slept in the room, walked beside me, or was in the car. If I drove home, I might leave him behind. I rubbed my eye, yawning. Not that I was in any mood to drive, anyway.

  I exited the Mirage, groaning, the sunlight a flash-bang explosion. I slipped on sunglasses and made caffeine a priority. And a cheeseburger. A greasy, double-bacon cheeseburger, smothered in guilt and dripping with heart-attack risks. I rubbed my temples, grimacing. What's that noise? It sounded like singing glasses, as if moist fingers traced crystalware rims. I squinted behind my lenses, but never spotted the performer.