by Queen, Nyna
Darken’s eyes narrowed. “The long-distance coach station? Why would she—?”
It hit him like a bullet between the eyes. Left. Alex had left. But not just the house. Him!
The floor dropped from underneath his feet just to come back up hard, whacking him from below. Unable to keep his footing, Darken sank onto the too tidy bed, shaken to the marrow of his bones.
Why? The question burned through him like chimaeric fire. Why would she leave him? Now that everything was finally over. Now that they could finally be together.
Darken hunched over and buried his head in his hands, fighting the staggering pain ripping at his chest and chewing at his heart.
She had said she loved him. Why say that and then leave? True, he had just saved her from the brink of death when she told him, and she had been half-delirious at the time, but he’d still thought … had still believed… He pressed the heels of his palm to his eye-sockets. After gaining some temporal and physical distance from him and the events, had she come to realize it had merely been gratitude speaking out of her, not love?
No. It simply made no sense. In every kiss, in every single skin-tingling touch they had shared since their night in Duncan’s Teeth, he had felt her burning desire for him. A hot, ardent longing that so much mirrored his own and pulled them together while a thousand of obstacles tried to keep them apart. She loved him, he was absolutely sure of it.
But sometimes love wasn’t enough. His heart contracted painfully. Now that she’d had the time to think everything over, had she come to the decision he’d feared she might make? That, feelings or not, being together with a Forfeit would be too much trouble, especially when he came with a family like his own?
She was free now, cleared from her murder charge. She could go anywhere. Make a fresh start. No ties, no trouble. Why would she stay with him when she had the chance to start over without any burdens weighing her down?
Part of him refused to believe Alex would just choose the easy way out instead of at least taking a chance. There hadn’t yet been a challenge the spider wouldn’t tackle with a fierce smile and a knife hidden in her palm. Then again, she had simply packed her stuff and slipped away without a word, not even giving him the chance to try and change her mind. Wasn’t that message enough?
Hector cleared his throat again. With an effort, Darken lifted his head, gazing at the older man’s face through the haze of his despair.
“If it makes any difference, sir … the lady was crying when she left.”
A tiny frown puckered Darken’s forehead. Alex, crying? That was odd. Alex rarely ever cried. Mostly she just did what he did—hide her emotions behind a spiked, repelling wall of gruffness to quietly chew on them in the privacy of her own heart. So, if she really had cried…
“But if she was sad about leaving, why leave at all?” It just didn’t make any sense.
Hector shifted from one foot to the other, refusing to look at Darken directly. Darken’s instincts sharpened like the blade of a sword drawn along a whetstone. It wasn’t like the old butler to um and err. No, there was something going on here, something slippery that yet eluded his grip.
“What happened?” he asked too softy.
The pattern of the curtain suddenly seemed to hold something of utmost interest to Hector. Heat pumped underneath Darken’s skin. Sweet, delicious heat, brittle and vicious.
“Hector…?”
The butler had come to thoroughly inspect the bedsheets. He studied them a moment longer before his gaze finally slid up to meet Darken’s. He straightened his spine and loosely folded his hands, regaining some of his typical stoic manner. “I was under the impression that the lady believed she was doing what is best for you, sir.”
“For me?” Darken blinked, completely puzzled.
Hector sniffed. “From what I understood, she was of the opinion that—and I cite—accepting a shaper mongrel like her into the family would permanently damage the reputation of the House Dubois and that being with her would ruin all your chances of finally being a part of the royal elite. You might think you love her now, but your infatuation with her—”
“Infatuation?” Darken growled.
“—will fade once you meet all the trueborn ladies who are now eligible matches for you. She doesn’t want to be the biggest mistake of your life, and she wanted to save you the trouble of having to ditch her yourself. All things considered, it would be better for everyone involved if she just vanished from your lives.”
Darken gaped at him. If Hector had whacked him over the head with a sledgehammer, he wouldn’t have been more startled. “Those were her words?”
The older man nodded. “More or less.”
“But … where in the Great Mother’s name would she get the hideous idea that…” He paused. Closed his eyes as the truth filled him with cold, bitter fury. “Mother.”
Hector didn't reply, but his silence was confirmation enough. Darken’s hands curled into tight fists. Leave it to his dear mother to ruin every good thing that ever happened to him. The heat in his veins ignited, turning into a river of molten lava, hungry and eager to destroy. If she had said or done something that had given Alex the impression that she wasn’t welcome … no wonder Hector had been reluctant to speak up. He was in his way a part of the family, but he was still professional to a T and speaking ill about the family matriarch didn’t befit his station.
Hector straightened a button on his vest that didn’t need straightening while peering at Darken from the corner of his eye. “For all her toughness, the lady seems to have suffered a past full of rejections, and it is hardly a secret that she is particularly sensitive about her … special … nature.”
Darken dragged a hand through his raven hair. “As if I or anyone else in the family—except Mother—would care that she is a shaper! There’s nothing I could care less about!”
“Frankly, milord, the lady seems to be the only person who hasn’t quite understood that yet,” Hector said drily.
Darken rose to his feet. “Thank you for telling me, Hector.”
Hope flared inside his chest like a lighthouse appearing at the horizon before a shipwrecked man. Darken knew it was fragile. There was still the possibility that she truly wanted to leave and had just used these arguments as a pretex. But if there was the tiniest chance that she wanted to stay with him, he had to find out, or he would regret it for the rest of his life.
Hector harrumphed. “If you are planning to stop her, I respectfully suggest you get going, sir.”
Darken was already out of the door and heading toward the stairs, with Hector keeping up surprisingly well. “Did she mention her final destination?”
“No, sir, but the next speed coach is leaving at four p.m., destined for the Province of Calgary, and she didn’t seem particularly picky.”
Darken glanced down at his horanium iactari and swore viciously. Half past three. It would be the beginning of rush hour in the city. Even if he called another cab coach, he would never make it in time to the Tillwick Grove Coach Station. Fear slashed at his throat, making it hard to breathe. If she boarded that long-distance coach he might never find her again. He was a damn good hunter, but she was also damn good at hiding, and if she decided she didn’t want to be found… Sweet Jester, he couldn’t lose her now.
Taking a firm hold of his arm, Hector steered him toward the front door. “I suggest you take your brother’s old hover-cycle.” A key landed in Darken’s hand. “I took the liberty of unwrapping and priming it for you and already parked it at the top of the driveway. It’s not exactly in the best condition but it should make the trip.”
Darken stared at the old butler, momentarily at a loss for words. So many years spent together, and he was still able to surprise him in the best possible ways. Gratitude squeezed his heart.
“Hector, you’re the best.” He grabbed the old man’s gnarled hand. “My brother should really give you a pay raise.”
“My salary is already quite generous, sir,” Hect
or said with a small smile. “But if you truly want to do me a favor, bring the lady back. As a matter of fact, you wouldn’t be the only one who would sorely miss her.”
Hector stepped back and held the front door open for Darken. “And now, do hurry up, milord.”
With another heartfelt smile, Darken rushed outside, cleared the doorstep in one jump, and sprinted up the driveway. Just as promised, the hover-cycle waited at its top, ready for departure. It had clearly seen better days and not just because of the rust peeling from its dented, metal frame. Darken didn’t know how many times Edalyne had urged his brother to finally get rid of that ‘old pile of junk’. Today, he was glad his brother had stubbornly dug in his heels about it. Ah, his hotheaded, ornery brother.
Pushing the activator key into its slot, Darken sent a spark of magic through it and fueled the hover-cycle. The moment it left the ground, he tore forward. Bending low over the handle-bars, he used everything the old machine could give, praying for the second time in a matter of days, but for very different reasons, that he wouldn’t be too late.
SHIFTING her backpack on her shoulder, Alex stepped onto the open-air station platform of the Tillwick Grove Coach Station.
The slim platform was crowded with finely dressed trueborn people loaded with designer suitcases and expensive leather bags, all waiting for the next long-distance coach to roll in: schoolchildren in dapper school uniforms coming from some kind of excursion; a group of elderly ladies in ridiculous brimmed hats with oversized bows and flowers; a young couple with a girl baby sleeping in a buggy…
At least on the outside, Alex didn’t stick out in her soft, black pants and formfitting blazer over a thin, creamy silk shirt. Just another trueborn lady about to go on a journey.
Except that hers was a single journey without a return ticket.
Tears welled in Alex’s eyes, blurring her vision. You’d think she would have no more tears left, but no, every time she thought about what she was going to do, fresh tears would flood her eyes and run down her cheeks, leaving a salty, bitter taste on her lips. The taste of broken dreams.
Around her, tiny flower petals lazily hovered on the warm summer air, perfuming it with a delicate sweetness. Laughter bubbled over the platform, along with excited chatter, babies’ crying, and the yipping of a poodle loudly complaining about a teacup dog being allowed to ride in Mommy’s purse.
Alex squished her lower lip between her teeth. In all her time as a homeless shaper, living by herself in the halfborn nether, she’d never felt so utterly alone in the world. As if everybody around her was moving in quick motion, while she was the only one put on hold, a frozen island in a raging sea of movement, able to see the rest yet forever unable to reach out to them.
Once again, she was on the wrong side of the window gazing into the candy shop, but that door had closed for good and would never open again.
More tears streamed down Alex’s cheeks. She exhaled.
It is better like this, she told herself for the zillionth time. The words had become her silent mantra on the way here. It was the right thing to do. So why did it feel like her heart was breaking over and over again? As though she were breathing glass shards and they were cutting her open from within. Wounds that were invisible from the outside yet bound to slowly but surely bleed her dry. Was this how dying felt?
She had suffered so much in her life, the events of the last few weeks holding a top spot in that regard, but nothing—nothing—had ever hurt as much as leaving Darken.
A tinny voice buzzed out of the loudspeakers, echoing over the platform, “Speed coach to Calgary incoming in six minutes.”
Alex straightened her spine and swallowed back the persisting tears. Six more minutes, and she would be gone, molten into the shadows like a spider in the night.
Crumpling her ticket between her fingers, she drifted left toward the marker pole flagging the area where her compartment would be.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Alex’s heart did a double flip inside her chest. No—impossible! She wheeled around, eyes wide.
Just short of the platform, Darken leaned against an old, battered hover-cycle that appeared to be stemming right from the scrap heap. The sun played on his windswept dark hair, painting golden accents onto his aristocratic features. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up to expose the golden and black lines of his tattoos, which wound from the backs of his hands over his muscle-corded lower arms and seemed to move in the play of light and shadows. He looked unearthly handsome and irresistibly hot—and utterly pissed!
How did he even find her?
A few people were slowing around them, throwing them inquisitive glances that dripped off Darken’s unconcealed Forfeit tattoos like water drops from a bubble of oil, but Alex barely noticed their stares. All she saw was Darken.
He had come to stop her. He had ridden that … thing … to prevent her from leaving. Everything in her yearned to cross the short distance between them, throw herself into his arms and never let go again. Except there was a reason why she was here, and she couldn’t break down now.
Fighting hard to keep her voice neutral and steady, Alex raised her chin in the air. “I’m going back where I belong.”
Darken’s eyes flared, a deadly, blood-red sea under a stormy night sky. He pushed away from the hover-cycle and stepped onto the platform, stalking closer, slowly, furiously, like a predator cornering his prey.
“Funny. I thought you belonged with me.”
Alex’s heart skipped a beat just to pick up faster than before. There was no place in the world she’d rather be. But that was the point, wasn’t it? For once, this wasn’t about what she wanted. She had to be strong—for him.
When she remained mute, bitterness flooded Darken’s eyes. “You said you loved me. But I guess that wasn’t enough.”
“You stupid man, I’m leaving because I love you!” The words just blurted out of Alex before she could stop them.
Darken bared his teeth. “How does that even make any sense?”
Alex snarled and flung her hands in the air, all her pain and fury about the unfairness of the world blending into an explosive mixture that snapped her resolve like brittle chopsticks.
“Don’t you get it? I’m doing this for you! So that you can finally live the life you always wanted. A real life, as part of the elite. As long as I’m around, you will never have that!” The truth was like a poisoned knife twisting in her gut. Tears were freely streaming down her face now, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. “I am n-no longer your only option out there, and I d-don’t want to be your b-biggest regret.”
“You’re the one who’s not getting it, Alex,” Darken growled, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. “When I said I wanted to be free of the Order, I was speaking of the killing assignments, the forced sex, the punishments. I always wanted more time to spend with my family, yes. But the rest? I never cared about any of it.” He furiously started to pace up and down in front of her. “I don’t give a damn about balls and social gatherings or my public image.” He paused to glare at her. “You want to know what I want, Alex? I want you. Human skin, shaper skin, the whole deal.”
Alex stared at him, too stunned to make even the slightest sound.
“Attention,” the voice of the station master announced through the loudspeakers. “Speed coach to Calgary approaching.”
All around them, the platform erupted into busy movement as people swept toward the platform edge. Darken used the moment to bridge the gap between them and stopped right in front of Alex. He was so close she felt the scorching heat rolling off him in waves, licking at her skin.
He tugged a finger under her chin and lifted her head so that she was looking up into his swirling, fire-lit eyes.
“I will have many regrets in my life, sweetheart, but choosing you will not be one of them.” His gaze captured her, burned into her, holding her so she couldn’t possibly look away. “When I said I loved you, I didn
’t say it because you were my only option. I said it because it is the truth.”
Alex’s thoughts fractured into a thousand pieces, scattering every which way like a litter of rabbit kittens before a wolf. She desperately grabbed onto one of them, digging her teeth into it.
“What—what if your brother loses the election because of me?”
“If he loses the election because of one little spider then he’s not a really good politician.” Darken’s warm hand slid up her jaw, coming to rest at the nape of her neck. His eyes were dead serious. “There are more important things in the world than political achievements, Alex. My bother has his priorities straight. He knows that.”
Alex opened her mouth to protest, but Darken’s stern gaze silenced her.
“You’re afraid to trust, I get it,” he said softly. “You keep pushing people away, never even giving them a chance to get close to you. But if you don’t let them close, you’ll never find out if they can accept you. Most of my family does and others will too, if only you give them a chance.” His voice slipped into a low, ragged snarl. “And the rest of the world can go to hell for all I care.”
He meant it. He’d actually thought about it. A life with her. He was absolutely serious about it. The thought made Alex dizzy.
The stream of people boarding the speed coach waiting beside the platform was thinning.
Darken leaned forward until mere inches separated their faces, his eyes bright with burning intensity. “Listen to me Alex, so that this finally penetrates that stubborn head of yours. I love you. If I could choose from all the women in the world, I would choose you, again and again and again. You will always be my choice, just like you’ve always been.”
He drew back a little and a shadow crossed his features, a hint of pain darkening the skin around his eyes. “But if you don’t want to spend your life with a Forfeit, I would understand. I might be free of the Order, but I still am what I am. Life with someone like me will never be easy.”
He was actually worried that she might turn him down! Fool. Idiot.