The Dark World

by Cara Lynn Shultz

  Then Travis’s blue eyes popped open wide, spinning around the hallway in panic. “Is she here? Blaise?”

  “She’s dead. She can’t hurt you anymore. I—I killed her,” I admitted in a shaky voice.

  “Good. Because I would have messed her up,” Travis said with false bravado, cracking his neck from side to side. I steeled myself for what I had to say, my fingers clutching the fabric of my plaid uniform skirt so tightly, I thought it might tear.

  “She was there for me, Travis. It’s my fault.” I braced for some kind of verbal assault, since a physical one was out of the question. But instead, Travis gave me a rueful smile.

  “Like I said, it’s not your fault. We’re cool. She’s the one who kill—who put me here,” he said, unable to utter the words. Dottie gently squeezed his shoulder, earning a grateful look from him and an audible gasp from me.

  “What?” Dottie asked, then followed my eyes to where her hand was and gave me a knowing smile. Of course Dottie can touch him. They’re on the same side now.

  “Dottie, I have so much to tell you. I even wrote it all down in a note so you could read it over my shoulder in class.”

  “I was with Travis all morning, trying to convince him to come over to your side.” Dottie gave Travis another sympathetic shoulder squeeze, but he just continued to stare at the floor, his shoe tracing patterns in the cracked checkered floor.

  “Wait until you hear what I found out about your side. Blaise, and others like her, came from the Dark World,” I revealed in a hushed voice. Dottie’s pink-painted mouth dropped open in surprise. Travis looked paler—if such a thing were possible.

  “What else did you find out?” Dottie asked, eagerly reaching for my arm, then pulling back before her fingers could pass through my skin and give us both chills.

  I had only begun telling Dottie about the Dark World and demonslayers when Travis lifted his head with a low, pained moan. He wasn’t just pale—he was transparent, the marked-up beige walls of the hallway visible through his form. Dottie began to waver, too. She flashed me a panicked look, her brown eyes glistening with terror before she vanished.

  The last time Dottie had disappeared, it was because a demon was near. So I screamed, feeling my voice painfully rip through my throat as I unleashed my loudest, shrillest wail—the kind of screech that would be heard at the end of the hallway, and on another floor. In my panic, I thought I could even see it leave my mouth, wispy white curls of smoke that spun through the air, twisting with the ferocity of my shriek even though it wasn’t even cold in the hallway.

  But no sound came out. My scream should have echoed down the empty corridor, bouncing off the dull metal lockers and sending teachers and students streaming into the hallway. Instead, the hallway remained empty—so I screamed a second time, so forcefully I could taste blood on my tongue, but again the scream floated through the air, until it swirled in a tight spiral, coiling in the outstretched hand held in front of me. Aiden’s hand.

  “Neat party trick, isn’t it?” Aiden asked, closing his fist around the smoke and shoving it in the pocket of his navy pants. “A particular talent of mine. I have to say, it comes in so handy sometimes!” he added with a conspiratorial wink, as if we were old friends.

  If I couldn’t scream, I could run. Which I did. I made it about ten feet before I collided with Della, who grabbed my arm.

  “We don’t have much time. I tried to slow him down, but he’s coming,” Della growled, taking her hand off her slashed-open face and scowling at the powderlike blood staining her palm—an injury I had no doubt Logan had given her.

  I reached over my shoulder for my sword, but Aiden grabbed me from behind, pulling me back into the stairway at the end of the hall. I tried to scream, tried to yell—but even my grunts were silent.

  “She’s feisty for a little brat,” Della sniffed, watching me struggle against Aiden, who wrapped his arms around my torso. I clawed at his skin, my nails breaking off in his forearm as he dragged me up the stairs, the loud banging of my heels against concrete echoing in the stairwell. I flailed in his arms, hoping to make enough noise to get someone’s attention. Once they got me alone, I’d be gone.

  Reaching over my shoulder, I grabbed the handle of the sword, which materialized instantly. I yanked it down over my shoulder as hard as I could, sending the broad side of the long sword flying upward into Aiden’s chin with a forceful smack.

  He cried in pain, releasing me as he reached up to cradle his face. I stumbled forward, tumbling down the few steps Aiden had hauled me up. I landed hard on my right side, ignoring the agony in my shoulder as I scrambled to my feet, lurching for the staircase door.

  “Della, stop her,” Aiden grunted, clutching his sore chin. Della caught up with me as I flung the door open. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me back, shoving me against the wall as the door slammed closed. I swung for her face, but Aiden caught my hand and grabbed my other wrist. He held both of my hands tightly behind my back as Della gripped my chin and stared into my eyes.

  “Listen to me,” Della began in a low, commanding voice, wrapping my hair around her fist and pulling down, so I was forced to look into her eyes. “You want to come with Aiden and me. It’s so much better with us. So peaceful.

  “Look at me!” she ordered, and something in my brain yelled—screamed—at me to keep my eyes shut. I felt her thumbs pressing on my eyes, pulling my eyelids up as I thrashed against Aiden’s grip, my throat raw from my silent screams. I struggled to turn away, to tune her out—but those hypnotic eyes that seemed so cold earlier now looked warm. Inviting. Safe.

  “Stop fighting it, Paige. You don’t remember anything—just us. We are what you want.” The words swirled around me like a soft blanket, like fleece and down wrapping me in warmth on a cold day. I felt like I was falling—but when I saw the depths of her deep black eyes, I felt stable again. She was right. Della was always right.

  “Give Paige her voice back. She needs to speak her assent.”

  Suddenly, I could talk again. Della made Aiden give me my voice back. And there was only one word I wanted to say.

  “Yes.” Agreeing to go with her was almost nourishing.

  The pain in my wrists disappeared as whatever was holding them immobile released me, and I happily followed Aiden and Della up the staircase.

  Chapter 7

  “HURRY UP,” DELLA ordered, pacing the floor of a classroom that faintly smelled of sweet smoke. I sat on the tall stool where Della had told me to sit, swinging my legs as I studied the large beige room. It seemed familiar to me. Foamy, black noise-proofing strips were bolted to the walls, and the chalkboard was dotted with the simple three-note scale of “Hot Cross Buns” and other childhood rhymes. The melody echoed weakly in my head as I peered out the door window at the classroom across the hall. It was blocked off with yellow tape, the walls outlining the door blackened with soot. Something had happened there. I couldn’t really recall what, but I knew it was important. Significant. I vaguely remembered someone screaming....

  Della nervously stared at the door of the classroom, jumping at every imagined noise.

  “Can’t you go any faster?” she hissed, impatiently tapping her stiletto on the floor.

  “It’s not like I’m hot-wiring a car here, Dellica. Opening portals into other worlds is a bit complicated,” Aiden shot back, raking his hands through his black hair as he studied the tattered scraps of parchment on the desk in the front of the room.

  “He’s going to come for her. He interrupted me in the basement. I was in the middle of feeding, too,” Della said, anxiously prodding the jagged, still-bloody wound that marred her left cheek and wincing at the pain. “I made Matt attack him to keep him busy, but it’s not like he’s going to be hard to get past. He’s just a stupid human.”

  “Well, if you would shut the hell up and let me do my job,�
� Aiden yelled, his hands clenched into fists, “we’ll be long gone before Logan shows up.”

  That name...that name stirred something in me. Something I needed to hold on to.

  Aiden collected the bits of paper and shoved them into the canvas bag slung across his chest, then strode across the room to where I was sitting.

  “Get up,” he ordered, taking my hand to roughly pull me into a standing position, and I stumbled forward.

  “Repeat after me, do you understand?” he demanded, and I nodded. Aiden extended his other hand, whispering clashing, foreign sounds that my tongue stumbled through pronouncing. But the cadence of the words sounded familiar. I could picture someone holding his hand in front of a door to unlock it. The image of flame-tipped fingers reaching out to me flashed across my mind before disappearing into vapor.

  “We’re losing her.” The low, whispered statement came from Della, who stared at me with contempt as I tried to grab these fleeting images that danced across my consciousness.

  “She’s fine,” Aiden said, taking my hand to pull me closer to him. I snatched my hand back and shook his touch off. It felt foreign—unnatural. I didn’t understand why, though. Wasn’t I supposed to stay with him and Della?

  “I thought your particular set of skills was supposed to make her more docile, Dellica,” Aiden snapped, staring at me in confusion as I instinctively recoiled from him.

  “I hate my real name.” She wrinkled her perfect nose in distaste as she flopped onto a stool, swinging her legs. “Why do you insist on using it?”

  “Because you hate it. And it amuses me to annoy you.” Aiden smirked, grabbing for my hand again. I pulled it back and stepped away, and his smile faded. “Now tell me why this one isn’t being so agreeable anymore when your little pet Matt is so devoted he’d eat kibble out of your hand.”

  “Who cares? Can’t we just kill her and leave before he kills us?” Della begged, stomping her heel on the floor. “Look, we don’t even need to go back! Just kill her and we’ll stay on this side. We could rule over here. Listen to me!” she screeched, but Aiden dismissed her with a curt wave of his hand as he stared ahead, enthralled, a greedy smile slowly spreading on his face.

  “What a prize she is for me to bring back,” Aiden whispered in awe. I squinted at the scene. Thin cracks spiraled out of a small, pulsating dark oval that hovered a few feet above the floor.

  “She can do it. She really is a Traveler,” Aiden murmured, staring at me in reverence as I slumped against the desk, exhausted. Every impulse to stand up straight faded away as I watched the fragmented scene expand. The larger the portal grew, the more drained I became, overwhelming fatigue settling into every pore. I looked to Della for her approval, but she wasn’t watching me. Her panicked gaze was directed beyond the portal—to the doorway of the classroom, where a shadowed form stood.

  Suddenly, I was pressed against Aiden’s chest as he held me close, roughly stroking my hair as this new person ran into the classroom, diving underneath the portal. He hit the floor with his shoulder and rolled forward—coming to crouch before the portal with a sword drawn.

  “Sorry, proditori, she’s got a new boyfriend. One that will snap her neck if you come any closer—and she’ll accept it with a smile,” Aiden said with a laugh, running his nose along my jaw as he placed his palm against my throat. I flinched at the sensation—the revulsion I felt when he touched me contradicting the unexplainable loyalty I felt I owed him and Della. I tried to untangle myself from Aiden’s arms, but he only held on to me more tightly, planting a loud, wet kiss on my cheek and announcing in a singsong voice, “He wants to kill you.”

  The boy’s eyes narrowed, his face settling into a hard mask—which softened when he met my confused gaze.

  “Paige, don’t be scared. You know me. You know I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice, and the familiar, but gentle way he said my name, assaulted my mind with murky images of rooftops and swords and warm eyes and sad smiles.

  Logan.

  The pictures floated through my mind, anchored by that name.... That name that echoed in my head almost painfully, tearing down the dark filter that had been obscuring my memories. And I began to remember.

  “No!” I screamed, pushing Aiden away—but he grabbed my wrist and twisted it painfully, bringing me to my knees. Logan’s face contorted in rage as he raised his sword and rushed closer, poised to attack as the dark portal continued to grow behind him. It was spreading, then retracting, a pulsating vortex that opened a doorway to another dimension. Every time it expanded, I felt weaker, all my strength leaving my body to feed the growing hole in our reality.

  “I’ll break her arm off and beat her with it,” Aiden said savagely, pointing at Logan, as he bent my wrist back even farther. I cried out, my body twisting at an unnatural angle as my wrist strained against Aiden’s grip. Logan stopped in his tracks, his sword frozen in its offensive position.

  “Aiden, let’s go,” Della urged, her hands balled into fists. “Just leave her here.”

  “Hey, Dummica, the portal isn’t completely open yet. But feel free to try to make it out of this room without the proditori slicing you in half,” Aiden snapped at her. I weakly tried to punch him in the back of the knees with my free hand, hoping to knock him off balance while he was distracted, but all I did was cause Aiden to swiftly kick me in the side. Groaning, I clutched at my ribs as a wave of agony washed over me, and I heard Logan shout my name.

  “Dellica, watch her, will you?” Aiden said, shaking my wrist and sending spears of pain shooting down my arm. “She’s almost as irritating to me as you are.”

  He hauled me to my feet and shoved me at Della, who grabbed me around the waist and quickly held a blade to my throat. I wrapped my fingers around her forearm, pulling at her arm with ineffective, feeble tugs. But I was sapped of strength and couldn’t get a strong grip on Della, my fingers merely slipping from her skin as I tried to wrench the knife from my throat.

  “No!” Logan shouted, his eyes wide with fear as Della pressed the blade into my skin.

  “Oh, calm down, you big drama queen,” Aiden sighed dramatically. “Della’s not going to hurt her—much. But if you touch a teensy-weensy hair on my head, Paige will lose hers.”

  Aiden grinned innocently, batting his eyelashes. The room was bathed in a quick flash of light as the portal shuddered and expanded, and black spots whirled across my vision as I tried to remain conscious. Logan’s eyes—panicked and yet full of rage—met mine, and I focused on him as he stood before Aiden, tall and powerful.

  “Oh, let’s have some fun, shall we?” Aiden purred, throwing his arms open and locking them straight at the elbow. The air around his clenched hands crackled, with fiery sparks exploding in a straight line from the center of his knuckles. The sparks fused together, forming a solid, shimmering gold spike rising from curled golden gloves that shielded his fists.

  “Here’s the story, proditori—ooh, that rhymed,” Aiden said, giggling, bouncing up and down like a kid about to go on the Ferris wheel—a kid brandishing deadly spikes, which he clapped together excitedly, making a waterfall of bright sparks rain down onto the floor.

  “You surrender to me—and we don’t kill the little Traveler over there. Because right now, I’d love to see what her insides look like.” As he spoke, Della traced the tip of the knife along my cheek.

  “We could maim her, though,” Della cooed, a hard edge under her babyish voice. “I don’t see why she shouldn’t have a scar like the one you gave me.” She pressed the tip of the blade into my cheekbone, and I felt the sharp sting of the metal as it pierced my skin, sending a warm, sticky stream of blood trailing down my face.

  “Don’t you want to show the proditori how loud you can scream?” she wheedled, and I bit my lip against the cry building in my throat. Don’t give her the satisfaction, Paige. Don’t distract Logan. Do not scream.
>
  “I said, don’t you want to scream?” Della taunted, dragging the knife lower, tearing at my skin, and a low cry forced its way from my lips at the searing pain in my cheek.

  “Stop!” Logan shouted, his eyes darting between me and Aiden. They locked on mine—and were filled with anguish.

  “No,” I mouthed—but Logan merely shook his head, his expression grave.

  “Stop hurting her,” he demanded, glaring at Aiden. “She goes free, and we’ll have a deal.”

  “Logan—isn’t that what you go by? Logan? Well, Logan, she won’t go free,” Aiden said. “Do you think I’m stupid, Logan? She can open gateways between the worlds! She’s valuable currency for me. I’m not letting this prize stay in warlock hands. But I’ll agree not to cause her further injury if you come with me.”

  Della tapped the tip of the blade against the corner of my eye, using just enough pressure to cause pain without breaking the skin. My eyelashes fluttered against the bloodstained metal, which glinted in my peripheral vision.

  “Aww, but hurting her is so much fun,” Della sulked, twirling the tip of the blade slowly as she held it against my skin. I winced, squeezing my eyes shut as I braced myself for the inevitable agony. “I’ve heard warlocks have healing medications. Can you replace an eyeball? Because I bet she’d look hilarious with an eye patch.”

  “Stop it! You have a deal! I’ll—I’ll go with you,” Logan cried, his voice frantic over Aiden’s merry giggle.

  “The Queen is going to be so impressed with me when I bring you two to the castle! About time that bitch acknowledged my worth,” Aiden spat, his words saturated with bitterness and resentment, before switching to a gleeful tone.

  “I bet she’s got all sorts of torture planned for you, demonslayer. You’ve been getting in the way for far too long. She’ll probably flay you and wear your skin like a cape. Or maybe she’ll burn you alive. Imagine that—the little warlock warrior, his flesh melting away on the floor of the throne room. Such a pretty sight.”