Dark Consort

Home > Young Adult > Dark Consort > Page 2
Dark Consort Page 2

by Amber R. Duell

That was my life now. Waiting. Waiting and suffering. I had to run mental rings around everyone in my life, and my body was absolutely finished with the Day World. But just like I was stuck in therapy for an hour, I was stuck in this world for another three weeks.

  I glanced at my watch, the silver band stark against the black stain of the Weaver’s magic on my skin. My magic. Of course, the therapist couldn’t see the glove-like markings creeping toward my elbows, the golden veins throbbing beneath, or the gold that swallowed the green in my irises. Not that she would know what to make of it if she could.

  Colleen sat in a matching chair, quietly tapping her pen against her knee. “Nora,” she said gently. Always gently. Always kind. “You’ve been coming to see me for a little over five months now, and you’ve barely said two words.”

  I slid my sunglasses up my nose, the smallest bit of light too much for my new eyes to handle, and crossed my arms. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk about what happened, but how could I? Well, you see, Colleen, the Nightmare Lord killed my friends because the Sandman stashed a secret in my dreams. Then I killed him, which means I get to spend the rest of eternity weaving horrible new creatures into existence in his place. Really, it’s all Rowan’s fault, though. She’s a nightmare with branch-like wings and a crown of raven beaks that can zap you into oblivion with a single touch. Or, as I like to think of her, she’s a double-crossing demon with an army of moaning heathens and an angry, pointy-beaked sidekick, Kail. Anyway, they set me up with this magical knife… Ugh. It sounded crazy even to me.

  So, though I had a lot to say, sweet Colleen with her perfectly curled grey hair and grandma sweaters wouldn’t get a single secret from me. This, the coming here, it was for my mother. Because no matter how strained our relationship became, the least I could do was try until the day I returned to the Nightmare Realm.

  “This won’t work if you aren’t willing to talk to me,” Colleen said.

  I shrugged one shoulder and glanced at my watch again. Five more minutes.

  She sighed and shut her notebook. “Will you at least remove the sunglasses?”

  “Why?” I asked, my voice dripping with suspicion. Wearing the glasses got me a few too many strange looks, so I tried not to wear them, but some days I couldn’t help it. It just so happened that driving twenty minutes to the therapist’s office in the middle of the afternoon exceeded my limits, especially with the pain getting worse each day.

  “You’ve worn them for our last three meetings, and I want to make sure you’re all right.”

  All right. When was the last time I had been all right? Before the Weaver went on a crazed killing spree? Before I met the Sandman? Did a time even exist before him? It felt like another lifetime, like I was another person. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch. I was a different person.

  “I’m not hiding black eyes or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” It certainly felt like I took a couple punches straight to the orbital area, though. Actually, that would have been preferable, since that pain would only be temporary.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” Colleen scooted forward in her chair and leaned toward me, smelling of peppermint. “Have you been crying?”

  I laughed, the sound hollow and bitter. I hadn’t cried since that day in the hospital.

  “Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?” she further pried.

  I took a deep breath and sat up straighter, removing the dark glasses. The sunlight immediately dried my eyes and each blink felt like sandpaper, but I refused to let myself shrink away from the growing discomfort of the Day World. Even the air hurt. It felt too dense against my skin and the universe itself seemed to shove and tug simultaneously in an attempt to be rid of me. My body had grown accustomed to the sharp pain of it all, leaving me with a constant dull ache.

  “Ben and I are fine,” I assured her.

  She set her fingertips on my kneecap, and I fought the urge to slap them away. The pressure felt as if it would crush my leg, though I knew she was barely making contact. “Nora, a lot happened this summer.”

  “I’m aware.” I scratched at the back of my hand, but of course the black stain didn’t budge. “I was there.”

  “I want to help you,” she said, almost pleading.

  A soft click sounded from the timer on her desk. I forced a smile and settled the glasses back on my face. “Time’s up, Colleen. Maybe next week.”

  “Actually, Nora, I think this will be our last session.”

  “What?” I froze, halfway off the sofa. “But I—”

  “You don’t want to be here.” She stood and adjusted her cardigan. “I can give your hour to someone who does.”

  “My mother—”

  She raised her hands in surrender. “If you need me to tell her, I will. She can call me tomorrow.”

  “No, no. Listen, just give me two more appointments, okay? That’s it.” I held two fingers up. “Two tiny little hours.”

  “Why two?” she asked with a hint of curiosity.

  Because after that, I’ll be gone. “Let me get through Thanksgiving without letting her down. You can ruin Christmas instead.”

  “Not coming to therapy isn’t going to ruin anything, Nora.” Her expression softened. “It’s not for everyone, and that’s perfectly okay.”

  Yes, it was okay, but the problem wasn’t that therapy wasn’t for me. Someone like Colleen would’ve been a great help if my problem five years ago had truly been my parents’ divorce. I stood and slung my bag over my shoulder. “If I promise to talk next Friday, will you let me come back?”

  Colleen studied me for a moment, and just when I expected her to say no, she nodded. I let out a breath and grabbed a peppermint candy from the bowl on her desk. Anything to temporarily mask the permanent taste of sulfur that now lived in the back of my throat.

  “Thanks. See you then,” I called and bolted for the exit.

  Outside, the sun was warm, the air cool, and I shivered against the extra jolt of pain the small breeze inflicted. I gave the street a quick visual sweep to ease my paranoia. All day, it felt like someone was watching me, but I was ninety percent convinced the feeling was only caused by my ever-growing magic. Either way, the quiet, residential street seemed safe enough. Nothing rustled in the neighbors’ hedges or peeked up from cement storm drains.

  Not that I needed to worry when the Dream Lord had my back.

  The Sandman leaned against the carved stone railing outside Colleen’s home office. My heart attempted to spring from my chest as it did every week, every day, every minute that I saw him. His dark t-shirt pulled against his lean muscles, and the midnight blue and silver flecks tattooed on his arms shone weakly in the sunlight. He turned at the sound of the shutting door, and a smile lit his entire face. My pain faded away, all the tension pouring from my limbs. I took the steps two at a time and flung my arms around his neck. He felt warm and sure against me. The scent of lilacs and something distinctly him was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and leaned into his embrace.

  “Hi,” he said. His breath was warm on my ear.

  I smiled into the crook of his neck. “Hi.”

  “Ready to go?”

  “More than ready.” I tugged him toward my car, parked on the side of the road, but he didn’t budge. “Aren’t you coming?”

  His violet eyes roamed my face as if he were seeing me for the first time. Or the last. It shook me to the core right there on the sidewalk. A couple walking their dog skirted around us, the woman accidentally nudging me with her shoulder, but I stood firm. I’d learned his expressions quickly over the last few months, but this one was the worst because I still wasn’t sure what it meant.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked in a hoarse whisper. My mind raced over all the problems in the Nightmare Realm he’d brought up recently. We’d agreed on solutions. Did they not work? Was it something new? Something big? It had to be big—the look he gave me almost guaranteed it.

  The Sandman’s hand came up to cup my f
ace, his thumb skimming my bottom lip. “Maybe we should take the day off from training and do something together.”

  “Skip training?” I jerked my head back. Sometimes I wondered who pushed harder for training, me or him. He knew the true situation in the Nightmare Realm. Not only knew. He saw it while I’d only heard second-hand. New ruler or not, the nightmares would eat me alive over there. Probably literally. “I don’t understand,” I continued. “Did something happen?”

  His eyes flickered with concern, and he pulled me closer, leaning down. Our lips met. The kiss was soft, though anything but careful. It was a kiss of reverence and passion. Sweet. Desperate. I lost myself in the taste of him for the briefest of moments. In the feel of him, of being far away from all life’s problems. Right then, it was just me and the Sandman. Like it used to be. But it was a lie—things would never again be like before.

  I sighed, easing away so our lips were an inch apart, and tugged at one of his soft brown curls. “You’re not telling me something.”

  “I’m just glad to see you.” He nudged my nose with his. “And we’ve been working so hard.”

  “Mhm.” I didn’t believe that for a minute. Our training had turned into make-out sessions more than once, but we’d never skipped one in favor of the other. I really wanted to take him up on it, but time was short, and I wasn’t where I needed to be as a fighter yet. “I have to be home for dinner, so we should probably get going.”

  He winced, and I instantly wished I’d agreed instead. Maybe he really did want to spend time together without all… this. I glanced at the black staining my arms, the gold veins throbbing beneath the skin, and heat crept over my face. Deep down, I wanted a day of normalcy too.

  But before I could say so, the Sandman walked around my car and opened the door for me.

  The hour-long drive out of downtown Cedarbrook was a silent one. The Sandman chewed the inside of his cheek instead of briefing me on the Nightmare Realm, which only made me more curious. I knew whatever was on his mind would come out when he was ready, but that didn’t make the wait any easier. Especially when I had a sinking feeling it involved nightmares.

  We’d already agreed to let the Dreamers back in despite the risks of me not being there to keep the peace. If it wasn’t enough, what else could we do, short of my going back early? Not that three weeks was going to do much good. I scowled out the windshield and cranked the radio to fill the booming silence as we followed the now-familiar roads far away from my mother’s network of spies.

  Nora skipped therapy today.

  Nora jaywalked.

  Nora did this. Nora did that.

  I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Leaving my family on a good note was easier said than done, but spending time with the Sandman helped. Going on a date with Ben gave my mother the impression I was trying to move forward, which cut her constant complaints about not having my GED in half. Sure, I promised I would get it, but only to earn her forgiveness for dropping out of high school. That and the therapy. I had read through a study guide, which apparently didn’t count, but I doubted nightmares cared about their Lady’s formal education. All they cared about was fear. Theirs. Mine. Dreamers’. Who had the most and who had the least.

  I eased the car into the small dirt parking lot near a walking trail and cut the engine. The Sandman stared, unseeing, out the window.

  “We can go back,” I offered. “Maybe see a movie?”

  He pressed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No. You were right. We only have a few more weeks.”

  “Let’s make a deal.” I grinned. “If I knock you off your feet first, we leave and do something fun.”

  Amusement glimmered in his starlit eyes, though not quite as brightly as I’d hoped. “And if I knock you down first?”

  I leaned across the car to whisper in his ear. “Winner’s choice.”

  I stole a quick peck on his mouth and darted from the car. The swell of his laughter brushed through my mind, but quickly disappeared. Still, that his emotional control slipped even for a second widened my smile. I raced up the trail, jumping over branches, stones, and mud. I didn’t have to look to know he was behind me. That’s where he stayed until we reached our usual training spot.

  At least one good thing came from our training: I could now run and run without getting breathless. I was fast too. Everything else, on the other hand… I slowed to a stop in the middle of our clearing. Thick pines circled the oblong patch of overgrown grass, shielding us from the eyes of anyone hiking nearby. Our own little oasis, where I got my butt kicked over and over and over. The Sandman might’ve taught me how to throw a knife and dodge a punch, but I would never be good enough to beat nightmares like Rowan and Kail if I didn’t learn how to use the magic foisted onto me. Magic the Sandman admittedly had no idea how to harness.

  “Do you want to warm up first?” the Sandman asked.

  It was doubtful any nightmare would give me the chance to stretch, so instead of answering, I bent and swung my leg out to knock the backs of his knees. Despite the lack of warning, he was ready for me and jumped aside. I leapt toward him. He swung out. The moves felt mechanical, rehearsed. Because they were. The same drill on repeat for five months, and I still couldn’t figure out how to change it. To be better. To spot an opening and know how to take it in the blink of an eye.

  I ducked beneath the Sandman’s arm, pivoted, and shoved my palms against his chest. He flew to the ground, his head smacking against the dirt. I blinked down at him in shock. When I suggested knocking him down first, I hadn’t believed I would win. I never won. It was an unspoken rule that he never went easy on me, no matter how much it hurt—the nightmares certainly wouldn’t. And that was most definitely not him letting me get one over on him.

  “What’s going on with you?” I asked.

  He sat up and rubbed the back of his head. “I suppose I’m feeling a little guilty today.”

  Uh-oh. “Guilty about what?”

  The Sandman leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Baku and I destroyed a nightmare that could’ve been useful to you.”

  “So?” This again? I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “They aren’t exactly in short supply, and I’m sure you had a good reason. I can make more in a few weeks, anyway.”

  “I think—” He winced.

  I tensed at the realization of where this was all headed. “If you’re going to say a few weeks isn’t long enough, the answer is no. We aren’t delaying anything.”

  “It’s chaos there, Nora. Anarchy. And Rowan—”

  “I don’t care,” I shouted, then reigned my anger in. “The only thing keeping me together right now is that this is almost over. The physical pain, dealing with my family, all of it. I’m tired of standing at the edge of goodbye. The bandage needs to be ripped off so I can learn to be whatever it is I need to be.”

  He raked a hand through his hair, and a spark of dread flickered inside me. His dread. I hated him for it. For letting me know exactly how afraid he was when I was already terrified enough. And I hated that I couldn’t hide my feelings. No matter how much I practiced, it was never enough to keep him from knowing everything through our emotional connection as Night World rulers.

  “I know,” he said quietly. “Don’t be angry. I’m just worried about you.”

  “Then get up and fight me,” I growled. Before he had the chance, pain flared in my back, and I let out a soft cry. It felt as if two daggers scraped against my spine. Hateful eyes, hungry and dangerous, tore into me like I was nothing more than fog.

  “What is it?” The Sandman was on his feet, his hands on my arms. I couldn’t answer. “Nora? What happened?”

  “You don’t feel it?” I asked, the words barely a breath.

  His brow furrowed. “I feel you.”

  “I think someone’s watching us.”

  He removed the pouch of sand from beneath his shirt and turned it upside down while his eyes narrowed, glancing at the edges of the clearing. The sand spread all a
round us and shot straight out at the trees. A moment later, he let out a breath. “There’s nothing here that shouldn’t be.”

  I rolled my shoulders, and the pain lessened. “The stress must be getting to me,” I lied. I felt it. Something was out there.

  “Hang on a little longer, okay?” He kissed my forehead. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  “But—”

  “You won,” he said with an encouraging smile.

  My phone rang, and I jumped straight into the air. “Sorry. One second.” I skipped to my bag, hanging from a low branch, and dug the cell out with shaking hands. Mom. My nose wrinkled in disgust. What did she want?

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Nora, where are you?” Someone laughed in the background. “Are you on your way home?”

  “Not yet.” I put my free hand on my hip and stretched my side.

  “Well, you need to be.”

  “Why?”

  “I expect you back in half an hour,” she said, and hung up before I could argue.

  I squeezed the phone hard to keep myself from chucking it into the woods. A half hour. It was impossible. Now I would have to hear about being late all night. The sinister grin lurking inside me surfaced, a darkness clouding my mind, as it had nearly every day since I woke up in the hospital. Every time, my reactions were a little less Nora and a little more angry and irrational—a little more… something else. It lured me toward an edge that I wasn’t sure was possible to come back from. I pushed back at it, clawing desperately for my normal. It was like standing on ice, hearing it crack, watching the pieces around me splinter, and knowing that one wrong breath was all it would take to plunge me to my death. So I held my breath and waited for the grin to go away, for winter to refreeze the ground beneath my feet. I closed my eyes and searched for bright white snow, but inside my head, it all seemed dark. So, so dark.

  The Sandman brushed the hair from the back of my neck and placed a soft kiss on the skin there. “You’re okay, Nora.”

  “Okay?” The word came out strained, and the ice gave out. I shoved the phone back in my purse and wrapped the strap around my hand. “Sure. I’m okay. I only have to learn how to keep myself alive in three weeks when the last five months have proved I’m incapable. It’ll be fine. I’ll just be the Lady of Nightmares who relies on the Lord of Dreams for the rest of eternity. The nightmares will love that.”

 

‹ Prev